Losers Fic: Walk a While With Me, 5/6
Jun. 24th, 2012 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyjanellyTitle: Walk a While With Me 5/6
Author: LadyJanelly
Fandom: The Losers
Rating: Mature
Characters/Pairing: Jake Jensen/Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez
Warnings: Bullying, hazing, homophobia, racism, internalized homophobia, violence, language, mentions of previous assault and sexual assault, Jeff Foxworthy paraphrase, Leverage cameo
Notes: Thanks to Peaceful_sands for her hand-holding, cheer-leading and beta-reading
Title from the Led Zeppelin song “Over the Hills and Far Away”
Summary: AU—Jake Jensen left the Army before he ever had a chance to be a Loser. Cougar meets him anyway.
Sometimes what a man needs to be happy is losing the battle he’s been fighting his whole life.
Feedback: will be adored in any form, from squee to concrit to thinky-thinky thoughts.
==========================
Cougar buys a second bike and has it shipped to Fort Hood, but the next time he’s free for more than a day it’s winter in Texas and not riding weather and he doesn’t have time to wait for a transport to happen to be going his way. He flies commercial out of Fayetteville instead, his dress greens getting him a same-day ticket at a price that doesn’t bankrupt his checking account; he knows from experience that the ticket counter is a lot kinder to active military with a surprise few days of leave than a spic wanting to travel cross-country at the last minute.
He leaves the beret in his locker on base, though. Damn thing always catches too much attention—guys who want to ask questions, who want to be him without even the work of becoming regular Army, or women who want to see if he excels in other areas as well. The greens alone get him as much unwelcome conversation as he can stand, old men reminiscing about their glory days and young kids asking if he’s ever killed anyone.
He stops in a bathroom before the TSA checkpoint, and goes through his bag again, making sure he left all his weapons behind, that he didn’t casually drop a blade in his bag without thinking of it. It’s been years since he’s flown out of a civilian airport, since he’s had somewhere to get to in a hurry that the Army wasn’t sending him, back before 9/11 and flying got so crazy. The last time he visited his family.
Security goes smooth and he’s standing at the gate waiting for his flight when he realizes that in his rush to take advantage of the unexpected leave, he hasn’t called Jake yet. He takes out his phone and flips through the call history. Even though his last call to Jake is only the third back, it was almost a month ago. He’s not sure how often men call each other, men who have kissed and may kiss again, but he’s pretty sure it is more often than this.
He wonders again if he can do this. If he can be something permanent in Jake’s life. If Jake even wants that from him. He has walked through minefields and felt more sure of his steps.
Still, he knows he’s getting on the plane. Knows he’ll be in Dallas in a few hours. He can sit at the airport for three days or he can call Jake, and the sooner the better so he presses ‘talk’ and listens to the phone dial.
“Cougs?” Jake sounds glad to hear from him and something in Cougar’s chest loosens.
“Si. Hola.”
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Wheels, in twenty minutes.”
“Mission?”
Cougar only feels a little sadistic drawing it out. “Three days leave. I land at DFW in three hours.”
“Yeah?” And if Cougar has doubts that Jake wants to be with him, he at least knows Jake is pleased with the thought of seeing him again. “You need a ride?”
“Si. If you’re free. Gate A-19 at…” his brain stumbles as he translates the ticket to military time and then back again because Jake has been using a civilian clock for two years or more. “Six PM.”
“Gotcha,” Jake says, and then the intercom is calling Cougar’s flight to board and he has to go.
“Adios,” Cougar says, and Jake answers, “See you soon.”
=========
The flight is short. Cougar’s seat-mate is a teen girl attached to her I-phone, and she doesn’t say three words to him. He couldn’t have wished for better, despite the overflow of tinny pop music coming from her earphones.
He picks up his bag from baggage claim, the only Army duffel on the conveyor belt. He heads outside, looking for the light blue of Jake’s old truck and there it is, pulling to the curb. Sophie’s little hands press against the side window and her face lights up when she sees Cougar. Jake leans over and pops the door for her and she scrambles out to meet him. She runs over but stops short of him, uncertainty taking over at the last second.
Cougar smiles at her and drops to one knee, arms open but not reaching out for her, letting her greet him how she will. She takes the last few steps and wraps her arms quick around his neck and then lets him go. It’s a bright spark of wonder, of life and joy, a tiny sample of things he thought he could never have.
“You came back!” she says. “Jake said you would try to.”
“I did,” he agrees and that seems to be all she was looking for. She grabs his free hand and he shoulders his bag and lets her lead him to the truck. He tosses his bag in the back and opens the door to lift her into the seat, and he sees Jake for the first time in months, grinning and holding a squirming armload of half-grown puppy. The dog is short-haired, floppy-eared, honey-colored with white markings, with the distinctive musculature and pit bull face.
“Easy, Sugar,” Jake laughs, “Down, girl.” He grins at Cougar. “I didn’t know you’d be all dressed up or I’d have left her home.”
“Dog hair brushes off,” Cougar says with a shrug. Sophie slides across the bench seat and buckles in and then takes Sugar into her lap.
“Teresa’s making dinner,” Jake says as Cougar gets in the truck and they pull out into traffic. “Chicken and rice, if you want.” And even if he doesn’t, he’s not going to insult Jake’s sister or turn down the chance of a family meal around the table.
“Sounds good,” he says and lets the puppy sniff at his fingers.
===========
Teresa pushes seconds on him and tries for thirds before he smiles and shakes his head. “If I eat more I will burst,” he says and Sophie uses the distraction to slip Sugar a sliver of her chicken.
“You ready to get out of here?” Jake asks and Cougar nods.
“It has been a pleasure, señora, señorita.” They smile at his Spanish and call their goodbyes, and Jake’s hand is warm through his jacket where it rests on his lower back as he hurries Cougar out of the door.
They climb in the truck and Jake gets the heat running. He’s quiet suddenly, in their first moments alone.
“How long are you in town for?” he asks as he backs out of the driveway.
“Three days, two nights.”
Jake nods. “I’ve still got Sophie after school tomorrow, but I’ll call in at the salon.”
“Si, good,” Cougar answers, and then there’s silence in the truck.
“You didn’t call,” Jake says at last. It doesn’t sound like an accusation, more uncertainty than anything.
Cougar looks down at his hands, at the permanent residue of carbon dust worn into the creases of his skin.
“It is like a different world,” he says at last. “Being there. Thinking of you, here.”
He has killed six men since he saw Jake last. He wonders if that matters at all.
“Okay,” says Jake. “I can live with that.” He’s silent for another mile and then he admits “I checked. About every week. To make sure your file was still active and not deceased.”
“Jake.” Worry cuts through him. Not that Jake will use classified information in the wrong way, but that he’ll get caught for this, go to jail. “Don’t. The risk.”
Jake shrugs. “I cover my tracks and I don’t look too deep.”
“Don’t,” Cougar repeats. “I’ll put a letter in my locker. To go to you if…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, afraid of cursing his luck.
Jake glances at him at a red light. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll stop snooping.” He sounds distressed enough that Cougar believes him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Cougar says, and Jake nods.
“Apology accepted. But I know you’re not a phone guy, and that’s cool. I know I can’t call you without risking catching you with the guys. Just promise me that if something happens and you’re never coming back to Dallas that you’ll let me know, and I’ll stop being such a whiny bitch, okay?”
Jake deserves so much better than that. Deserves a man he can see every day, who can be there for him on the phone, at the very least. Cougar is just selfish enough that he wants to be the man Jake has anyway. He doesn’t know what he has done that Jake will accept his behavior, but he vows again to be a better man. To not fuck this up. He may be a sinner and a maricón, but he’s no idiot.
“Jake,” he says, low and serious, “If this…if I can’t, I’ll tell you. Lo promito.”
Jake nods and forces a grin. “Okay then. Hey, want to stop for ice cream?”
The corner of Cougar’s mouth twitches. Jake is stalling. Jake is just as nervous as he is. That makes it easier.
“I want to be home,” he says, “With you.”
Jake nods and turns onto the side-street, fingers tapping at the wheel, humming some song that Cougar doesn’t know, or just doesn’t recognize Jake’s off-tune version of. They park and get out and Jake’s still jittery and Cougar just has no frame of reference for what the hell he should say, so he doesn’t.
Jake doesn’t look at him as he unlocks the back door, but he talks. “So, I just need to know. Are we starting over with a ‘maybe,’ or is it back to just friends, or picking up where we left off when you kissed me and ran away?”
Cougar catches him just inside the door, spins Jake’s back against the wall just like last time and locks his fingers behind Jake’s neck, the heels of his hands cupping Jake’s jaw. He leans up and kisses Jake, all hunger and need and no finesse at all.
“Oh,” Jake breathes when they break away, his lips flushed and eyes wide. “Oh. I can work with that.” He grabs Cougar by the lapels of his dress greens and pulls him back close. There’s more style to the kiss this time, teasing nuzzles and nips, Jake’s hands dancing over Cougar’s shoulders and arms and hips like he’s not sure if he’s allowed.
They rock against each other, hard through wool and denim and standing against the wall is familiar enough to what Cougar has known before that it’s easy to reach down and unfasten Jake’s jeans.
“Cougs, you don’t…”
Cougar shuts him up with a grazing bite and Jake shudders at the feel of teeth. His fingers muss up the combed-back straightness of Cougar’s hair, pull the hair-band from his ponytail and let his hair fall loose around his ears. The brush of it makes Cougar feel more free, less in-uniform.
He goes to his knees and Jake swears. “Been a long time, Cougar,” and it feels like forever since he’s done this, too. Almost a year since he got fucked last, since he had a dick in his mouth. He nuzzles Jake’s cock through the white cotton of his briefs. “Please,” Jake begs, but his hand is gentle in Cougar’s hair. “Not gonna last.”
Cougar doesn’t waste any time then, pulling Jake free of his underwear, taking just a second to appreciate the smooth, thick curve of him before taking it into his mouth, loving how it feels, how it tastes, cheeks burning at the wickedness of his own pleasure.
“Seriously,” Jake warns, his hips moving in tiny stuttering twitches. Cougar looks up at him, Jake’s dick in his mouth, and Dios, he’s sure he’s never seen such open adoration in any man’s eyes. He bobs his head and takes Jake deeper, not for the pain and the burn but because Jake deserves his best.
“Fuck,” Jake moans, his voice tight as he tries to hold himself back, bites at the heel of his hand to make it last but it’s no use and he’s coming, thick and bitter and salty in Cougar’s mouth. Jake’s hand rests on his head like a priest giving benediction and Cougar’s never had it so gentle, so good. He swallows, because this isn’t some back alley and he’s not spitting on Jake’s floor. This is Jake, and if Cougar’s eyes prickle it’s from trying to get it all down, and from Jake’s dick at the back of his throat.
Jake takes a shaky breath and sags against the wall, “Cougar, Jesus,” he pants and Cougar feels a swell of pride, that he did this, that he was good enough. He tucks Jake back into his briefs with a crooked smirk and ignores his own throbbing need.
Jake reaches down and pulls Cougar up, smiling and blissed out. He leans in and Cougar dodges the kiss, presses his lips just under Jake’s ear to show he’s not upset, he just can’t imagine wanting to taste that without the benefit of someone actively orgasming. He half-expects a fight, because Jake is contrary like that, but he seems to accept it, wrapping his arms around Cougar and nuzzling in against his hair. “Want you in a bed,” he murmurs, and Cougar has had his longest, roughest fucks in beds, but he trusts Jake and he nods.
Jake takes his hand and smiles like a stupid teenager, like Cougar is beautiful and precious as he leads him down the hall to the bedroom, their two narrow mattresses on the floor just like last time. Cougar’s hands go to the buttons of his jacket but Jake’s cover them.
“Please,” Jake asks, so soft, like this is a fantasy he’s had forever. Cougar lowers his hands and Jake runs his fingers through Cougar’s hair and leans in to kiss him, so fucking tender that Cougar doesn’t even know what to do. He lets Jake undress him, jacket and shirt unbuttoned and neatly laid out on one bed. He slides the chain of Cougar’s dog-tags through his hand but doesn’t take them off.
Jake goes to his knees and Cougar is so hard it aches as Jake lifts his feet one at a time to take off his dress shoes and socks, as he unfastens his pants and slides them off of his hips, steadying him as he steps out of them. He wants to beg, wants to swear at Jake for being so damn slow.
“You too,” he says, and Jake wriggles out of his jacket and jeans and t-shirt, tangles himself in the pants legs and nearly falls but for Cougar grabbing his elbow to steady him.
He lets Jake lay him down on the bed, his underwear still on, and they kiss, and Cougar doesn’t remember until they’re already into it that he still has Jake’s taste in his mouth but by then it doesn’t matter. Jake’s thigh rubs at his dick, driving him crazy with the friction that’s too much and not-quite enough at the same time. Jake’s fingers tease under the elastic against his waist and Cougar growls at him. “Enough, fuck, that’s enough,” and Jake laughs an apology and sits up to strip the underwear off of him. He freezes, staring at Cougar’s dick, and if this is the deal-breaker, Cougar is going to be seriously pissed.
Then a slow smile breaks across Jake’s face and he’s reaching out to grip Cougar’s cock, his thumb against the underside of the foreskin, rubbing the thin skin between his thumb and the underside of Cougar’s dick and it makes him hiss with pleasure.
“God, that’s beautiful,” Jake murmurs and bends down to put his lips to it, tongue snaking out to trace the line where the very edge of foreskin has pulled back and the tender skin of the head of his dick is exposed. Cougar twitches with the sensation, squirms on the bed. Jake blows a stream of cool air over him and then nuzzles in, brushing the prickly hair of his goatee against the shaft.
“Tell me what you need,” Jake says, and Cougar growls. “What do you like, Cougs?”
Jake kisses the very tip of Cougar’s dick, a soft peck that would be chaste on any other part of his body.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Anything. Jake, anything. Your mouth, your hand, Dios, don’t stop.” He tries to lift his hips, tries to press up against Jake’s lips that are so damn close, but Jake pulls back by the same distance.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, and Cougar spreads his legs, hooks a heel around Jake’s shoulders to try to pull him in. Jake slides those beautiful lips over his dick, drawing his foreskin back with a gentle hand, flicks his tongue against the sweet sheltered parts of Cougar even as his other hand is reaching lower, his thumb rubbing at Cougar’s hole, dry but not trying to push in, just teasing the muscle.
He tries to hold back. Tries not to lose it so quick. He throws a forearm over his eyes, cutting off the wicked sight of Jake going down on him and hiding his shame as Jake’s mouth and Jake’s touch makes him come undone. Jake chokes as he swallows, the angle bad for it, pulls off and wipes his mouth, still smiling as he crashes to the bed against Cougar’s body.
“Wow,” Jake laughs and stares up at the ceiling. “So, that was a nice surprise.”
Their sweat cools and the room isn’t cold, but it’s not exactly warm either and Jake pulls the sheets out from under them and haphazardly covers most of their bodies. It’s another thing Cougar isn’t used to, touching after the sex is done, Jake’s fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm, his breath tickling Cougar’s hair.
“Any idea what we’re doing, here?” Jake asks, but he sounds amused.
“None,” Cougar answers and they lounge together until Cougar starts to drift off.
He wakes sometime in the night, alone in the bed. The heater is humming and the room half-lit by the light of the computer monitors glowing off of the wall. He turns his head and Jake is there in the other bed, sprawled out on his back asleep. Cougar gets up to piss before returning to sleep but on the way back he sees the 9mm loose on top of the sheets, inches from Jake’s hand. The sight of it always chills him and there’s no way he’ll go back to sleep with it loose like that. A lifetime of responsible gun-handling makes him reach for the weapon, wary in case he wakes Jake and Jake comes up swinging. He lifts the gun, flicks on the thumb safety and stows it away on top of the nearby mini-fridge, close enough that Jake can find it, far enough to not be fired accidentally.
==========
“So what do you like? Sex-wise, I mean,” Jake asks and Cougar’s face heats with the embarrassment of it. It is not a question to ask over migas and refried beans in the bright light of day. He looks around but nobody seems to have heard. He tries to glare Jake into silence but the man grins it off.
“Hey, it’s not prying if I have a vested interest.” Then he really looks and sees how uncomfortable Cougar is. He sighs and relents. “Fine. Not here. But I want to know, Cougs. I want to give you what you need.”
“You do,” he says, voice low and not meeting Jake’s eyes. He’d take anything Jake has to offer and be glad of it. It seems so different than what he’s tried to get before, he’s not even sure that his previous experiences matter at all.
Jake shifts the topic to his work on the house, almost done, and a bid already out on his next purchase. “I’ll start dressing it next week, pull the furniture out of storage to make it look lived in,” and Cougar thinks what it would be like, to be here next week, and the week after and the next, to be at Jake’s side every day, all the time. He wonders if they’d be at each other’s throats with the constant exposure, or if they’d always be like this, easy, Jake’s chatter and Cougar’s silences.
On the drive back to the house, Jake rests his hand on Cougar’s thigh and Cougar flinches each time a taller vehicle passes by, imagining them seen like this.
========
“Is this okay?” Jake asks and his hand rests on Cougar’s back, thumb rubbing idly. “I just—I can’t believe I can touch you now.”
“Here,” Cougar says, “It’s okay here.”
They end up in the bedroom, fully clothed and kissing.
“Tell me what you like,” Jake practically begs, their lips less than an inch apart. “I don’t want to fuck this up. What have you done, what do you want to do? What turns you on?”
Cougar kisses him again, stalling, avoiding the questions he has no answers to.
“What do you do, Jake?” he asks instead, “You suck dick? Fuck men?” The words are filthy and the images to go with them even more-so, and yet fire licks through Cougar’s blood at the thought, jealousy stirring at the thought of another man touching Jake and arousal too. “Do you let them fuck you?” he hisses.
Jake goes still, and Cougar realizes what he’s said, and to whom. Fuck. “Lo siento,” he starts to apologize. Jake’s hands on his arms let him know he doesn’t have to pull away.
“Is this you trying to shut me up, Cougs, or are you asking because you’re thinking about it?” Jake isn’t angry, and Cougar thanks a god he rarely talks to anymore for that. He sounds calm, and curious, only the slightest bit guarded.
Cougar shakes his head, unable to articulate his thoughts. How he can’t even think about being the one pushing inside; it is somehow more sin, more desviado, to be the one fucking instead of fucked. To take it is less macho, yes, but with the illusion that he’s a passive participant. That he doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it.
“You could,” Jake murmurs, “It’s been a while so we’d have to ease into it, but I have, since. It’s doable, as long as I could see you.”
Cougar shakes his head and keeps his eyes down. “No. I don’t want that.”
“I’ve got a day and a half,” Jake says and Cougar can hear the stress in his voice. “Just over twenty four hours, to make this so good for you that you come back and I don’t want to waste any time on trial and error. It’s inefficient.”
Cougar smirks at that, raises his eyes to take in Jake’s frustration. “Idiota." He slides his hand around the back of Jake’s neck and draws him into another kiss, trying to show without words that he’s coming back, that this means something to him.
They stumble to the bedroom, feet tangled as they try to walk without letting go. The morning is spent in slow touches and gentle explorations, sweetness like Cougar has never allowed himself to have before. Jake lets Cougar touch wherever he wants, jokes about his robo-ball and Cougar watches his face as he rolls them in his hands, lavishing attention on both of them. He decides he likes Jake in his mouth, the mellow flavor of the man’s skin against his tongue.
=============
He wakes on his last morning in Dallas with Jake in bed with him, sitting up against the wall, long legs stretched out and Cougar’s arms thrown over his knees. He licks and nips at Jake’s thigh and gets the yelp and squirm he was expecting, but Jake quiets again too quick and Cougar looks up into serious blue eyes.
“Cougar. Is this going to change things? For you back there?”
Cougar shrugs. “Who can know? I don’t see how.” He is the same person. Should be. He doesn’t have to share this with his team, his friends who are like brothers. That hurts, but having Jake is more than enough compensation.
Jake runs his fingers through Cougar’s hair, and Cougar lays there and lets himself be petted for a while.
“I wish you could stay,” Jake whispers, wistful, and Cougar closes his eyes against the power of that dream. Dios, he can imagine what it would be like, waking up to this life every morning, to good honest work and Jake’s kisses and playing in the park with Sophie and Sugar. But giving up his rifle, the one thing in all the world that he does the best? Having no orders, no CO? That is less certain and he tries to picture walking away from the Army, gambling his entire future on his romance with Jake.
“I’m sorry,” Jake hurries to say. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said…I just want you safe where I can look out for you.”
Cougar rolls over, sits up and pulls Jake against him. “I will be as safe as any soldier can be. I will do all that I can to come back to you. I am well trained, I am smart and strong.”
“So are they,” Jake mutters, shrugging out of Cougar’s arms, and Cougar’s stomach twists as he realizes Jake isn’t worried about the enemy, but his team, and that he has no reply to that. He wants to think it wouldn’t matter if they found out somehow. That they wouldn’t hurt him like Jake’s team had hurt Jake, but he doesn’t know, not for sure.
“I’m sorry,” Jake says again, trying to shrug it off and smile. “You’ve passed for straight up until now, there’s no reason for that to change.”
Jake kisses him, light and quick, and then walks away to the shower, hiding and Cougar doesn’t know what to do but let him. Cougar showers after, and puts on a cotton shirt and jeans instead of his dress greens and Jake drives him to the airport.
“Adios,” he says as he steps down from Jake’s truck, without a kiss, without a touch. He meets Jake’s eyes and he hopes Jake knows it doesn’t mean he cares any less, only that there are things that he cannot do.
“See ya, Cougs,” Jake says, and Cougar thinks that he does.
Clay picks him up at the Fayetteville airport, in the car he once gambled against Cougar’s transfer. “How was Dallas?” he asks and Cougar shrugs. Clay drives, and doesn’t ask again.
They spend the next three days getting briefed and prepped for a major mission, all of them looking over the maps and intel, Cougar calculating distances and angles, Pooch the roads and air approaches, Roque estimating what will make the biggest boom.
They spend the last night in the States in the living room of their rented house, American football on the television, beer and pizza cluttering the coffee table. The house phone rings, a rare enough occurrence. Cougar does a quick calculation and comes up with late-afternoon in California, the kids his madre babysits for the day gone and dinner eaten, the perfect time for her to call and try to catch him.
He gets up and stretches and wanders down the hall, studiously ignoring the dirty look Pooch gives him as Pooch goes to get the phone. He heads to his bedroom, to the sliding glass doors and small balcony overlooking a narrow snow-dusted valley, a trickle of stream at the bottom still flowing. Pooch has given up on chasing him across the house but he likes having the nearby exit in case of sudden persistence. He can hear Pooch’s voice, indistinct, just enough to catch the tone of it, casual and then sharper. He should go take the phone. See what has happened. See if there’s something more than his paycheck that they need from him.
“Cougar!” Roque’s bark turns him away from the window. “Phone for you, some woman. Pooch says she’s pretty upset.” When Cougar still hesitates, Roque adds, “It’s not your mom, she said something about Dallas. That’s where your girl is, right?”
“Mierda!” Cougar swears and pushes past Roque. Fuck, there’s only one woman in Dallas who knows his name and if she’s crying, it means Cougar is going to kill someone.
“Si,” he says into the phone as he snatches it from Pooch’s hands. The guys are staring at him and he turns his back, can’t face them right now.
“Carlos! Oh thank god.” And yes, it’s Teresa, her voice thick with tears. “It’s Jake. He’s in the hospital. He was attacked last night. He’s asking for you and I don’t know what…”
“Que?” The words don’t make sense. It’s like he’s forgotten English.
“His house,” she says, slowing down, starting over. “They threw burning bottles of gasoline through his windows and when he came out they were waiting for him. They beat him.” Her voice catches in a muffled sob. “He got out of surgery a few hours ago and when he woke up he kept asking for you. Kept repeating your cell number and this number.”
“Is he…” and he doesn’t even know what he wants to ask.
“Concussion,” she says, and maybe that’s what he was asking. “Broken arm and ribs, smashed hand, smoke inhalation.”
“Who?”
“He said he didn’t get a good look.” She doesn’t sound convinced and god-damn the man, not sharing his enemies.
He tries to imagine it, the guys who could get the drop on Jake like that.
“His gun. Where was his gun?”
“It was there when the firefighters found him. The cops. They said he never got a shot off. Never even took off the safety.”
Cougar clenches the hand not holding the phone into a fist so hard his knuckles creak. He can imagine the whole thing in Technicolor, Jake coming out of his front door, smoke and flames behind him, glasses askew and the 9mm in his hand. Faceless men with bats and crowbars and Jake pulling the trigger and nothing happens, nothing at all because Cougar kept fucking with his weapon, kept changing it from how he expected it to be and now it matters, now Jake is hurt because of him.
“Carlos,” her voice is softer, more under control. “He keeps asking for you. He says he needs you. He sent Sophie and I to a hotel. I think he’s scared. I think something is really wrong.”
“I’ll come,” he says and hears the guys muttering behind him.
She thanks him, and he hears Sophie asking something in the background, her little-girl voice full of tears and he hangs up while he still has some control over himself.
“What the hell?” Roque asks, but Cougar turns and looks at Clay.
“I need to go,” he says and Clay frowns.
“What’s happened? Your girl okay?”
He clenches his teeth. “She’s not my girl. Her brother--my friend Jake. He’s been attacked. He’s in the hospital.”
Clay shakes his head. “I’m sorry as hell to hear that, Cougar, but we’ve got a mission tomorrow and a lot of time and money already invested. If it was a family member, I might be able to—”
“Clay!” Cougar cuts him off. Pooch is staring at him. Roque glaring. “I have to go.” His jaw works, trying to spit out the words that would make this happen.
“He’s not only my friend,” he says at last, and then through gritted teeth: “He’s my hairdresser.”
Pooch chokes. Roque lets out a long “What the fuuuuck?” and Clay blinks at him.
“Are you—” Clay starts but Cougar cuts him off.
“Don’t ask.”
Clay stares at him for long seconds and Cougar is not backing down, won’t back down over this.
“You’re serious,” Clay asks.
“Si.”
“And you care about this—Jake. Enough to risk disciplinary action.”
He’ll risk a damn court-martial for this, although he’s sane enough not to want to.
“Si.”
Clay reaches out, slow, and takes Cougar’s right hand in both of his. “You’re sure about this. That this guy is worth it.” He wraps his right hand around Cougar’s index finger, left around Cougar’s hand and Cougar has to fight himself not to flinch back, to not pull his hand away.
“Shit, Clay, no,” Pooch says, but Cougar nods, his eyes locked with Clay’s. He can’t help the shout of pain as Clay’s hands pull down and push back, as his finger breaks as clean as he could hope for, but he’s grateful, for the way out.
“Well you sure as shit can’t shoot like that,” Clay announces, “I’ll drive you to the infirmary and then you’ve got a week to recover.”
Cougar cradles his hand and nods. “I’ll need your car,” he says and Clay doesn’t argue.
===========
Author: LadyJanelly
Fandom: The Losers
Rating: Mature
Characters/Pairing: Jake Jensen/Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez
Warnings: Bullying, hazing, homophobia, racism, internalized homophobia, violence, language, mentions of previous assault and sexual assault, Jeff Foxworthy paraphrase, Leverage cameo
Notes: Thanks to Peaceful_sands for her hand-holding, cheer-leading and beta-reading
Title from the Led Zeppelin song “Over the Hills and Far Away”
Summary: AU—Jake Jensen left the Army before he ever had a chance to be a Loser. Cougar meets him anyway.
Sometimes what a man needs to be happy is losing the battle he’s been fighting his whole life.
Feedback: will be adored in any form, from squee to concrit to thinky-thinky thoughts.
==========================
Cougar buys a second bike and has it shipped to Fort Hood, but the next time he’s free for more than a day it’s winter in Texas and not riding weather and he doesn’t have time to wait for a transport to happen to be going his way. He flies commercial out of Fayetteville instead, his dress greens getting him a same-day ticket at a price that doesn’t bankrupt his checking account; he knows from experience that the ticket counter is a lot kinder to active military with a surprise few days of leave than a spic wanting to travel cross-country at the last minute.
He leaves the beret in his locker on base, though. Damn thing always catches too much attention—guys who want to ask questions, who want to be him without even the work of becoming regular Army, or women who want to see if he excels in other areas as well. The greens alone get him as much unwelcome conversation as he can stand, old men reminiscing about their glory days and young kids asking if he’s ever killed anyone.
He stops in a bathroom before the TSA checkpoint, and goes through his bag again, making sure he left all his weapons behind, that he didn’t casually drop a blade in his bag without thinking of it. It’s been years since he’s flown out of a civilian airport, since he’s had somewhere to get to in a hurry that the Army wasn’t sending him, back before 9/11 and flying got so crazy. The last time he visited his family.
Security goes smooth and he’s standing at the gate waiting for his flight when he realizes that in his rush to take advantage of the unexpected leave, he hasn’t called Jake yet. He takes out his phone and flips through the call history. Even though his last call to Jake is only the third back, it was almost a month ago. He’s not sure how often men call each other, men who have kissed and may kiss again, but he’s pretty sure it is more often than this.
He wonders again if he can do this. If he can be something permanent in Jake’s life. If Jake even wants that from him. He has walked through minefields and felt more sure of his steps.
Still, he knows he’s getting on the plane. Knows he’ll be in Dallas in a few hours. He can sit at the airport for three days or he can call Jake, and the sooner the better so he presses ‘talk’ and listens to the phone dial.
“Cougs?” Jake sounds glad to hear from him and something in Cougar’s chest loosens.
“Si. Hola.”
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Wheels, in twenty minutes.”
“Mission?”
Cougar only feels a little sadistic drawing it out. “Three days leave. I land at DFW in three hours.”
“Yeah?” And if Cougar has doubts that Jake wants to be with him, he at least knows Jake is pleased with the thought of seeing him again. “You need a ride?”
“Si. If you’re free. Gate A-19 at…” his brain stumbles as he translates the ticket to military time and then back again because Jake has been using a civilian clock for two years or more. “Six PM.”
“Gotcha,” Jake says, and then the intercom is calling Cougar’s flight to board and he has to go.
“Adios,” Cougar says, and Jake answers, “See you soon.”
=========
The flight is short. Cougar’s seat-mate is a teen girl attached to her I-phone, and she doesn’t say three words to him. He couldn’t have wished for better, despite the overflow of tinny pop music coming from her earphones.
He picks up his bag from baggage claim, the only Army duffel on the conveyor belt. He heads outside, looking for the light blue of Jake’s old truck and there it is, pulling to the curb. Sophie’s little hands press against the side window and her face lights up when she sees Cougar. Jake leans over and pops the door for her and she scrambles out to meet him. She runs over but stops short of him, uncertainty taking over at the last second.
Cougar smiles at her and drops to one knee, arms open but not reaching out for her, letting her greet him how she will. She takes the last few steps and wraps her arms quick around his neck and then lets him go. It’s a bright spark of wonder, of life and joy, a tiny sample of things he thought he could never have.
“You came back!” she says. “Jake said you would try to.”
“I did,” he agrees and that seems to be all she was looking for. She grabs his free hand and he shoulders his bag and lets her lead him to the truck. He tosses his bag in the back and opens the door to lift her into the seat, and he sees Jake for the first time in months, grinning and holding a squirming armload of half-grown puppy. The dog is short-haired, floppy-eared, honey-colored with white markings, with the distinctive musculature and pit bull face.
“Easy, Sugar,” Jake laughs, “Down, girl.” He grins at Cougar. “I didn’t know you’d be all dressed up or I’d have left her home.”
“Dog hair brushes off,” Cougar says with a shrug. Sophie slides across the bench seat and buckles in and then takes Sugar into her lap.
“Teresa’s making dinner,” Jake says as Cougar gets in the truck and they pull out into traffic. “Chicken and rice, if you want.” And even if he doesn’t, he’s not going to insult Jake’s sister or turn down the chance of a family meal around the table.
“Sounds good,” he says and lets the puppy sniff at his fingers.
===========
Teresa pushes seconds on him and tries for thirds before he smiles and shakes his head. “If I eat more I will burst,” he says and Sophie uses the distraction to slip Sugar a sliver of her chicken.
“You ready to get out of here?” Jake asks and Cougar nods.
“It has been a pleasure, señora, señorita.” They smile at his Spanish and call their goodbyes, and Jake’s hand is warm through his jacket where it rests on his lower back as he hurries Cougar out of the door.
They climb in the truck and Jake gets the heat running. He’s quiet suddenly, in their first moments alone.
“How long are you in town for?” he asks as he backs out of the driveway.
“Three days, two nights.”
Jake nods. “I’ve still got Sophie after school tomorrow, but I’ll call in at the salon.”
“Si, good,” Cougar answers, and then there’s silence in the truck.
“You didn’t call,” Jake says at last. It doesn’t sound like an accusation, more uncertainty than anything.
Cougar looks down at his hands, at the permanent residue of carbon dust worn into the creases of his skin.
“It is like a different world,” he says at last. “Being there. Thinking of you, here.”
He has killed six men since he saw Jake last. He wonders if that matters at all.
“Okay,” says Jake. “I can live with that.” He’s silent for another mile and then he admits “I checked. About every week. To make sure your file was still active and not deceased.”
“Jake.” Worry cuts through him. Not that Jake will use classified information in the wrong way, but that he’ll get caught for this, go to jail. “Don’t. The risk.”
Jake shrugs. “I cover my tracks and I don’t look too deep.”
“Don’t,” Cougar repeats. “I’ll put a letter in my locker. To go to you if…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, afraid of cursing his luck.
Jake glances at him at a red light. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll stop snooping.” He sounds distressed enough that Cougar believes him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Cougar says, and Jake nods.
“Apology accepted. But I know you’re not a phone guy, and that’s cool. I know I can’t call you without risking catching you with the guys. Just promise me that if something happens and you’re never coming back to Dallas that you’ll let me know, and I’ll stop being such a whiny bitch, okay?”
Jake deserves so much better than that. Deserves a man he can see every day, who can be there for him on the phone, at the very least. Cougar is just selfish enough that he wants to be the man Jake has anyway. He doesn’t know what he has done that Jake will accept his behavior, but he vows again to be a better man. To not fuck this up. He may be a sinner and a maricón, but he’s no idiot.
“Jake,” he says, low and serious, “If this…if I can’t, I’ll tell you. Lo promito.”
Jake nods and forces a grin. “Okay then. Hey, want to stop for ice cream?”
The corner of Cougar’s mouth twitches. Jake is stalling. Jake is just as nervous as he is. That makes it easier.
“I want to be home,” he says, “With you.”
Jake nods and turns onto the side-street, fingers tapping at the wheel, humming some song that Cougar doesn’t know, or just doesn’t recognize Jake’s off-tune version of. They park and get out and Jake’s still jittery and Cougar just has no frame of reference for what the hell he should say, so he doesn’t.
Jake doesn’t look at him as he unlocks the back door, but he talks. “So, I just need to know. Are we starting over with a ‘maybe,’ or is it back to just friends, or picking up where we left off when you kissed me and ran away?”
Cougar catches him just inside the door, spins Jake’s back against the wall just like last time and locks his fingers behind Jake’s neck, the heels of his hands cupping Jake’s jaw. He leans up and kisses Jake, all hunger and need and no finesse at all.
“Oh,” Jake breathes when they break away, his lips flushed and eyes wide. “Oh. I can work with that.” He grabs Cougar by the lapels of his dress greens and pulls him back close. There’s more style to the kiss this time, teasing nuzzles and nips, Jake’s hands dancing over Cougar’s shoulders and arms and hips like he’s not sure if he’s allowed.
They rock against each other, hard through wool and denim and standing against the wall is familiar enough to what Cougar has known before that it’s easy to reach down and unfasten Jake’s jeans.
“Cougs, you don’t…”
Cougar shuts him up with a grazing bite and Jake shudders at the feel of teeth. His fingers muss up the combed-back straightness of Cougar’s hair, pull the hair-band from his ponytail and let his hair fall loose around his ears. The brush of it makes Cougar feel more free, less in-uniform.
He goes to his knees and Jake swears. “Been a long time, Cougar,” and it feels like forever since he’s done this, too. Almost a year since he got fucked last, since he had a dick in his mouth. He nuzzles Jake’s cock through the white cotton of his briefs. “Please,” Jake begs, but his hand is gentle in Cougar’s hair. “Not gonna last.”
Cougar doesn’t waste any time then, pulling Jake free of his underwear, taking just a second to appreciate the smooth, thick curve of him before taking it into his mouth, loving how it feels, how it tastes, cheeks burning at the wickedness of his own pleasure.
“Seriously,” Jake warns, his hips moving in tiny stuttering twitches. Cougar looks up at him, Jake’s dick in his mouth, and Dios, he’s sure he’s never seen such open adoration in any man’s eyes. He bobs his head and takes Jake deeper, not for the pain and the burn but because Jake deserves his best.
“Fuck,” Jake moans, his voice tight as he tries to hold himself back, bites at the heel of his hand to make it last but it’s no use and he’s coming, thick and bitter and salty in Cougar’s mouth. Jake’s hand rests on his head like a priest giving benediction and Cougar’s never had it so gentle, so good. He swallows, because this isn’t some back alley and he’s not spitting on Jake’s floor. This is Jake, and if Cougar’s eyes prickle it’s from trying to get it all down, and from Jake’s dick at the back of his throat.
Jake takes a shaky breath and sags against the wall, “Cougar, Jesus,” he pants and Cougar feels a swell of pride, that he did this, that he was good enough. He tucks Jake back into his briefs with a crooked smirk and ignores his own throbbing need.
Jake reaches down and pulls Cougar up, smiling and blissed out. He leans in and Cougar dodges the kiss, presses his lips just under Jake’s ear to show he’s not upset, he just can’t imagine wanting to taste that without the benefit of someone actively orgasming. He half-expects a fight, because Jake is contrary like that, but he seems to accept it, wrapping his arms around Cougar and nuzzling in against his hair. “Want you in a bed,” he murmurs, and Cougar has had his longest, roughest fucks in beds, but he trusts Jake and he nods.
Jake takes his hand and smiles like a stupid teenager, like Cougar is beautiful and precious as he leads him down the hall to the bedroom, their two narrow mattresses on the floor just like last time. Cougar’s hands go to the buttons of his jacket but Jake’s cover them.
“Please,” Jake asks, so soft, like this is a fantasy he’s had forever. Cougar lowers his hands and Jake runs his fingers through Cougar’s hair and leans in to kiss him, so fucking tender that Cougar doesn’t even know what to do. He lets Jake undress him, jacket and shirt unbuttoned and neatly laid out on one bed. He slides the chain of Cougar’s dog-tags through his hand but doesn’t take them off.
Jake goes to his knees and Cougar is so hard it aches as Jake lifts his feet one at a time to take off his dress shoes and socks, as he unfastens his pants and slides them off of his hips, steadying him as he steps out of them. He wants to beg, wants to swear at Jake for being so damn slow.
“You too,” he says, and Jake wriggles out of his jacket and jeans and t-shirt, tangles himself in the pants legs and nearly falls but for Cougar grabbing his elbow to steady him.
He lets Jake lay him down on the bed, his underwear still on, and they kiss, and Cougar doesn’t remember until they’re already into it that he still has Jake’s taste in his mouth but by then it doesn’t matter. Jake’s thigh rubs at his dick, driving him crazy with the friction that’s too much and not-quite enough at the same time. Jake’s fingers tease under the elastic against his waist and Cougar growls at him. “Enough, fuck, that’s enough,” and Jake laughs an apology and sits up to strip the underwear off of him. He freezes, staring at Cougar’s dick, and if this is the deal-breaker, Cougar is going to be seriously pissed.
Then a slow smile breaks across Jake’s face and he’s reaching out to grip Cougar’s cock, his thumb against the underside of the foreskin, rubbing the thin skin between his thumb and the underside of Cougar’s dick and it makes him hiss with pleasure.
“God, that’s beautiful,” Jake murmurs and bends down to put his lips to it, tongue snaking out to trace the line where the very edge of foreskin has pulled back and the tender skin of the head of his dick is exposed. Cougar twitches with the sensation, squirms on the bed. Jake blows a stream of cool air over him and then nuzzles in, brushing the prickly hair of his goatee against the shaft.
“Tell me what you need,” Jake says, and Cougar growls. “What do you like, Cougs?”
Jake kisses the very tip of Cougar’s dick, a soft peck that would be chaste on any other part of his body.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Anything. Jake, anything. Your mouth, your hand, Dios, don’t stop.” He tries to lift his hips, tries to press up against Jake’s lips that are so damn close, but Jake pulls back by the same distance.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, and Cougar spreads his legs, hooks a heel around Jake’s shoulders to try to pull him in. Jake slides those beautiful lips over his dick, drawing his foreskin back with a gentle hand, flicks his tongue against the sweet sheltered parts of Cougar even as his other hand is reaching lower, his thumb rubbing at Cougar’s hole, dry but not trying to push in, just teasing the muscle.
He tries to hold back. Tries not to lose it so quick. He throws a forearm over his eyes, cutting off the wicked sight of Jake going down on him and hiding his shame as Jake’s mouth and Jake’s touch makes him come undone. Jake chokes as he swallows, the angle bad for it, pulls off and wipes his mouth, still smiling as he crashes to the bed against Cougar’s body.
“Wow,” Jake laughs and stares up at the ceiling. “So, that was a nice surprise.”
Their sweat cools and the room isn’t cold, but it’s not exactly warm either and Jake pulls the sheets out from under them and haphazardly covers most of their bodies. It’s another thing Cougar isn’t used to, touching after the sex is done, Jake’s fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm, his breath tickling Cougar’s hair.
“Any idea what we’re doing, here?” Jake asks, but he sounds amused.
“None,” Cougar answers and they lounge together until Cougar starts to drift off.
He wakes sometime in the night, alone in the bed. The heater is humming and the room half-lit by the light of the computer monitors glowing off of the wall. He turns his head and Jake is there in the other bed, sprawled out on his back asleep. Cougar gets up to piss before returning to sleep but on the way back he sees the 9mm loose on top of the sheets, inches from Jake’s hand. The sight of it always chills him and there’s no way he’ll go back to sleep with it loose like that. A lifetime of responsible gun-handling makes him reach for the weapon, wary in case he wakes Jake and Jake comes up swinging. He lifts the gun, flicks on the thumb safety and stows it away on top of the nearby mini-fridge, close enough that Jake can find it, far enough to not be fired accidentally.
==========
“So what do you like? Sex-wise, I mean,” Jake asks and Cougar’s face heats with the embarrassment of it. It is not a question to ask over migas and refried beans in the bright light of day. He looks around but nobody seems to have heard. He tries to glare Jake into silence but the man grins it off.
“Hey, it’s not prying if I have a vested interest.” Then he really looks and sees how uncomfortable Cougar is. He sighs and relents. “Fine. Not here. But I want to know, Cougs. I want to give you what you need.”
“You do,” he says, voice low and not meeting Jake’s eyes. He’d take anything Jake has to offer and be glad of it. It seems so different than what he’s tried to get before, he’s not even sure that his previous experiences matter at all.
Jake shifts the topic to his work on the house, almost done, and a bid already out on his next purchase. “I’ll start dressing it next week, pull the furniture out of storage to make it look lived in,” and Cougar thinks what it would be like, to be here next week, and the week after and the next, to be at Jake’s side every day, all the time. He wonders if they’d be at each other’s throats with the constant exposure, or if they’d always be like this, easy, Jake’s chatter and Cougar’s silences.
On the drive back to the house, Jake rests his hand on Cougar’s thigh and Cougar flinches each time a taller vehicle passes by, imagining them seen like this.
========
“Is this okay?” Jake asks and his hand rests on Cougar’s back, thumb rubbing idly. “I just—I can’t believe I can touch you now.”
“Here,” Cougar says, “It’s okay here.”
They end up in the bedroom, fully clothed and kissing.
“Tell me what you like,” Jake practically begs, their lips less than an inch apart. “I don’t want to fuck this up. What have you done, what do you want to do? What turns you on?”
Cougar kisses him again, stalling, avoiding the questions he has no answers to.
“What do you do, Jake?” he asks instead, “You suck dick? Fuck men?” The words are filthy and the images to go with them even more-so, and yet fire licks through Cougar’s blood at the thought, jealousy stirring at the thought of another man touching Jake and arousal too. “Do you let them fuck you?” he hisses.
Jake goes still, and Cougar realizes what he’s said, and to whom. Fuck. “Lo siento,” he starts to apologize. Jake’s hands on his arms let him know he doesn’t have to pull away.
“Is this you trying to shut me up, Cougs, or are you asking because you’re thinking about it?” Jake isn’t angry, and Cougar thanks a god he rarely talks to anymore for that. He sounds calm, and curious, only the slightest bit guarded.
Cougar shakes his head, unable to articulate his thoughts. How he can’t even think about being the one pushing inside; it is somehow more sin, more desviado, to be the one fucking instead of fucked. To take it is less macho, yes, but with the illusion that he’s a passive participant. That he doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it.
“You could,” Jake murmurs, “It’s been a while so we’d have to ease into it, but I have, since. It’s doable, as long as I could see you.”
Cougar shakes his head and keeps his eyes down. “No. I don’t want that.”
“I’ve got a day and a half,” Jake says and Cougar can hear the stress in his voice. “Just over twenty four hours, to make this so good for you that you come back and I don’t want to waste any time on trial and error. It’s inefficient.”
Cougar smirks at that, raises his eyes to take in Jake’s frustration. “Idiota." He slides his hand around the back of Jake’s neck and draws him into another kiss, trying to show without words that he’s coming back, that this means something to him.
They stumble to the bedroom, feet tangled as they try to walk without letting go. The morning is spent in slow touches and gentle explorations, sweetness like Cougar has never allowed himself to have before. Jake lets Cougar touch wherever he wants, jokes about his robo-ball and Cougar watches his face as he rolls them in his hands, lavishing attention on both of them. He decides he likes Jake in his mouth, the mellow flavor of the man’s skin against his tongue.
=============
He wakes on his last morning in Dallas with Jake in bed with him, sitting up against the wall, long legs stretched out and Cougar’s arms thrown over his knees. He licks and nips at Jake’s thigh and gets the yelp and squirm he was expecting, but Jake quiets again too quick and Cougar looks up into serious blue eyes.
“Cougar. Is this going to change things? For you back there?”
Cougar shrugs. “Who can know? I don’t see how.” He is the same person. Should be. He doesn’t have to share this with his team, his friends who are like brothers. That hurts, but having Jake is more than enough compensation.
Jake runs his fingers through Cougar’s hair, and Cougar lays there and lets himself be petted for a while.
“I wish you could stay,” Jake whispers, wistful, and Cougar closes his eyes against the power of that dream. Dios, he can imagine what it would be like, waking up to this life every morning, to good honest work and Jake’s kisses and playing in the park with Sophie and Sugar. But giving up his rifle, the one thing in all the world that he does the best? Having no orders, no CO? That is less certain and he tries to picture walking away from the Army, gambling his entire future on his romance with Jake.
“I’m sorry,” Jake hurries to say. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said…I just want you safe where I can look out for you.”
Cougar rolls over, sits up and pulls Jake against him. “I will be as safe as any soldier can be. I will do all that I can to come back to you. I am well trained, I am smart and strong.”
“So are they,” Jake mutters, shrugging out of Cougar’s arms, and Cougar’s stomach twists as he realizes Jake isn’t worried about the enemy, but his team, and that he has no reply to that. He wants to think it wouldn’t matter if they found out somehow. That they wouldn’t hurt him like Jake’s team had hurt Jake, but he doesn’t know, not for sure.
“I’m sorry,” Jake says again, trying to shrug it off and smile. “You’ve passed for straight up until now, there’s no reason for that to change.”
Jake kisses him, light and quick, and then walks away to the shower, hiding and Cougar doesn’t know what to do but let him. Cougar showers after, and puts on a cotton shirt and jeans instead of his dress greens and Jake drives him to the airport.
“Adios,” he says as he steps down from Jake’s truck, without a kiss, without a touch. He meets Jake’s eyes and he hopes Jake knows it doesn’t mean he cares any less, only that there are things that he cannot do.
“See ya, Cougs,” Jake says, and Cougar thinks that he does.
Clay picks him up at the Fayetteville airport, in the car he once gambled against Cougar’s transfer. “How was Dallas?” he asks and Cougar shrugs. Clay drives, and doesn’t ask again.
They spend the next three days getting briefed and prepped for a major mission, all of them looking over the maps and intel, Cougar calculating distances and angles, Pooch the roads and air approaches, Roque estimating what will make the biggest boom.
They spend the last night in the States in the living room of their rented house, American football on the television, beer and pizza cluttering the coffee table. The house phone rings, a rare enough occurrence. Cougar does a quick calculation and comes up with late-afternoon in California, the kids his madre babysits for the day gone and dinner eaten, the perfect time for her to call and try to catch him.
He gets up and stretches and wanders down the hall, studiously ignoring the dirty look Pooch gives him as Pooch goes to get the phone. He heads to his bedroom, to the sliding glass doors and small balcony overlooking a narrow snow-dusted valley, a trickle of stream at the bottom still flowing. Pooch has given up on chasing him across the house but he likes having the nearby exit in case of sudden persistence. He can hear Pooch’s voice, indistinct, just enough to catch the tone of it, casual and then sharper. He should go take the phone. See what has happened. See if there’s something more than his paycheck that they need from him.
“Cougar!” Roque’s bark turns him away from the window. “Phone for you, some woman. Pooch says she’s pretty upset.” When Cougar still hesitates, Roque adds, “It’s not your mom, she said something about Dallas. That’s where your girl is, right?”
“Mierda!” Cougar swears and pushes past Roque. Fuck, there’s only one woman in Dallas who knows his name and if she’s crying, it means Cougar is going to kill someone.
“Si,” he says into the phone as he snatches it from Pooch’s hands. The guys are staring at him and he turns his back, can’t face them right now.
“Carlos! Oh thank god.” And yes, it’s Teresa, her voice thick with tears. “It’s Jake. He’s in the hospital. He was attacked last night. He’s asking for you and I don’t know what…”
“Que?” The words don’t make sense. It’s like he’s forgotten English.
“His house,” she says, slowing down, starting over. “They threw burning bottles of gasoline through his windows and when he came out they were waiting for him. They beat him.” Her voice catches in a muffled sob. “He got out of surgery a few hours ago and when he woke up he kept asking for you. Kept repeating your cell number and this number.”
“Is he…” and he doesn’t even know what he wants to ask.
“Concussion,” she says, and maybe that’s what he was asking. “Broken arm and ribs, smashed hand, smoke inhalation.”
“Who?”
“He said he didn’t get a good look.” She doesn’t sound convinced and god-damn the man, not sharing his enemies.
He tries to imagine it, the guys who could get the drop on Jake like that.
“His gun. Where was his gun?”
“It was there when the firefighters found him. The cops. They said he never got a shot off. Never even took off the safety.”
Cougar clenches the hand not holding the phone into a fist so hard his knuckles creak. He can imagine the whole thing in Technicolor, Jake coming out of his front door, smoke and flames behind him, glasses askew and the 9mm in his hand. Faceless men with bats and crowbars and Jake pulling the trigger and nothing happens, nothing at all because Cougar kept fucking with his weapon, kept changing it from how he expected it to be and now it matters, now Jake is hurt because of him.
“Carlos,” her voice is softer, more under control. “He keeps asking for you. He says he needs you. He sent Sophie and I to a hotel. I think he’s scared. I think something is really wrong.”
“I’ll come,” he says and hears the guys muttering behind him.
She thanks him, and he hears Sophie asking something in the background, her little-girl voice full of tears and he hangs up while he still has some control over himself.
“What the hell?” Roque asks, but Cougar turns and looks at Clay.
“I need to go,” he says and Clay frowns.
“What’s happened? Your girl okay?”
He clenches his teeth. “She’s not my girl. Her brother--my friend Jake. He’s been attacked. He’s in the hospital.”
Clay shakes his head. “I’m sorry as hell to hear that, Cougar, but we’ve got a mission tomorrow and a lot of time and money already invested. If it was a family member, I might be able to—”
“Clay!” Cougar cuts him off. Pooch is staring at him. Roque glaring. “I have to go.” His jaw works, trying to spit out the words that would make this happen.
“He’s not only my friend,” he says at last, and then through gritted teeth: “He’s my hairdresser.”
Pooch chokes. Roque lets out a long “What the fuuuuck?” and Clay blinks at him.
“Are you—” Clay starts but Cougar cuts him off.
“Don’t ask.”
Clay stares at him for long seconds and Cougar is not backing down, won’t back down over this.
“You’re serious,” Clay asks.
“Si.”
“And you care about this—Jake. Enough to risk disciplinary action.”
He’ll risk a damn court-martial for this, although he’s sane enough not to want to.
“Si.”
Clay reaches out, slow, and takes Cougar’s right hand in both of his. “You’re sure about this. That this guy is worth it.” He wraps his right hand around Cougar’s index finger, left around Cougar’s hand and Cougar has to fight himself not to flinch back, to not pull his hand away.
“Shit, Clay, no,” Pooch says, but Cougar nods, his eyes locked with Clay’s. He can’t help the shout of pain as Clay’s hands pull down and push back, as his finger breaks as clean as he could hope for, but he’s grateful, for the way out.
“Well you sure as shit can’t shoot like that,” Clay announces, “I’ll drive you to the infirmary and then you’ve got a week to recover.”
Cougar cradles his hand and nods. “I’ll need your car,” he says and Clay doesn’t argue.
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Date: 2012-06-24 11:50 pm (UTC)CC
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Date: 2012-06-25 02:32 am (UTC)Glad it moved you. :)
-J
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Date: 2012-06-25 05:06 am (UTC)<3
CC
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Date: 2017-11-20 04:12 am (UTC)COUGAR SAVE JAKE!!!!!!!!11
also yay clay!