Of scales and wings and things that go Bump (in the night)
Title: Of scales and wings and things that go Bump (in the night)
Chapter 4. B / (?)
Fandom: Losers
Genre: AU
Rating: PG (13?)
Word Count: roughly 2160 / 5289
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie or Comics The Losers or characters within. I do not make money from writing or posting this fic.
emocezi , love her i do, cause she pretty much helped set up some of the conversations for me. I WUV HER!!!
Note. Chapter 4, part 2. original post too large
Twenty minutes later Jake Jensen was strapping a box onto the back of the ATV and studying the sky. Flakes were starting to come down, and the temperature had dropped, plummeting to the point his skin was crawling with the sensations that preceded the rush of scales. By the time he made it back to the cabin he’d have a body full of decorative, protective scales that would do little to keep out the cold. His mother patted his shoulder before slipping back inside, soft words about not doing anything stupid ringing in his head.
Halfway to the cabin the storm did about what he was expecting it to do- dump the snow in a wash that left mere feet of visibility. If he hadn’t known the trail so well, he’d have gotten lost, but this wasn’t his first run here. He managed to make it back to the cabin in one piece, fine scales thick along his skin as he parked the vehicle and hauled the box to the door. His shoulder thumped the wood, and suddenly the door was open and he was getting nearly dragged inside. Hands took the box, letting him have a chance to stomp an inch of snow off his boots and shake himself free of the layers wrapped around his body. He looked up at Cougar staring at him blankly. “The storm..?”
“It’s getting bad.” Jensen conceded. “There’s no way we’re going anywhere until probably tomorrow midday, and that’s only if the storm stops by dawn. Now come on, help me out.” There were candles stashed around the cabin, he knew, and the box held extra matches. “Go digging into the drawers by the sink, there should be a few candles.” He studied the fireplace- nice and roaring, though the wood pile could use refilling before things got any worse outside. “And grab the blankets off your bed. We’re sleeping out here tonight.”
“Why?” There was a look in Cougar’s eyes he couldn’t define or understand, and Jake realized that he’d never had scales around Cougar before. Fairly sure of that. He simply shrugged and went to grab his own pile of blankets. “The power has a bad habit of going out in storms like this. Sleeping by the fire will keep us from freezing.”
“It will be that bad..?” It wasn’t worried, only casual, and very interested. Jensen dropped his pile of blankets- including spares from the closet- onto one stretch of the sectional couch. “Weatherman says three or four feet of snow. Possible mixed ice. Better safe than sorry, ‘cause it’s going to get frigid outside.” He waited until Cougar paced down the hallway to the rooms, then slung his coat on again and ran around the building to the shed. Wood stacked near to the ceiling waited, dry. He grabbed several bundles by their twine handles and scuttled back, wanting the wood to stay as dry as possible. He dropped them right as Cougar finished spreading his blankets out- right in from of the fireplace. There was barely enough distance to keep stray bits from catching the material on fire, but he’d spread them all over.
And there was a challenge in Cougar’s eyes when they met him. Dare me. Do it. Jensen grinned, lip curling over one incisor. “You’re not stealing all the damned heat.” He settled the wood in the box by the fireplace before stepping over to the candle-lined shelves and mantle. A flick, and suddenly the lit match in his hands was the only light as the electricity flickered.
There was a rumbling growl filling the room, and as the lights surged back on, There was green and gold edging into Cougar’s eyes. “You didn’t want to come see family. You wanted to get my ass alone.” Jensen narrowed his eyes, glaring at Cougar as the man stretched, arching backwards in a way that showed a soft, open line of stomach. Jensen shuddered as his instinct to strike, and strike now, filled him; and he shook himself violently, scales sliding against each other in a dry, raw sound. He blinked, Cougar grinning at him now, a forked tongue flicking from between the sniper’s lips. “Cougar…don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“You started it.” The words were a hiss, and accented, but English. For now. Jensen studied the way Cougar stalked forward, turning slightly to put the wall behind his back. “I didn’t start anything. I swear. You wanted to come along; I just needed a family chat. C’mon Cougs, you don’t want to fight.” He didn’t feel his fingers curl into fists, but something at the back of his mind registered little pressures of too-long nails against his palm. Shit. “Cougar…”
Cougar’s body lowered, but not kneeling… preparing, like a cat waiting to pounce. A deep growl reverberated through the cabin, and Jensen narrowed his eyes, a snarl escaping his own lips. Fine. If he wanted to fight, he would fight. Appease the creature within and prove he wasn’t some punk pushover that’d flash his belly at whim.
The lights flickered, then the electricity cut out, washing the room in the soft glow of candles and firelight. The dim light meant nothing to the occupants, their eyes adjusting with ease to night vision that was above any human’s best. Jensen refused to take his eyes off Cougar, his ears tuning into the other dragon’s calm heartbeat, the rasping of scales. He could see as the dragon features took over the other’s body the way they had that other morning, and Jensen felt a brief pang of envy at Cougar’s ability to truly change. His own scale-work was meager, and he had never been able to do what Cougar was doing. Watching the way those calloused hands turned to talons and hard bony bits, the way his eyes slit and locked into something far different than human, the snaking, tufted tail that gradually appeared- it struck something deep within Jensen.
That something was pissed, volatile, and oh-so jealous. Unable to shed the human body, only modify it, the dragon buried within the hacker wanted, needed to be free. Talons and eyes were not enough, and the feeble, fake scales were a distant echo of the true thing. It wanted out. It needed to get out, to punish and charge and command.
It wanted the little twelve foot dragon- from nose to tail-tip - to submit before the mighty form that would be his if released.
If Jensen the human was coherent enough, he wouldn’t have risen to the bait made of Cougar’s posturing lithe body. But Jensen the dragon was rising, grasping and heaving control in miles a second. An unearthly, inhuman sound filled the cabin, a roaring, screeching tone contained by the walls and wind. It was answered in kind, and the fire flickered with the blurring movements. Cougar launched himself, claws reaching to batter at Jensen's human throat, barely protected, only to be knocked away. The clawed hand tried to hook around the pointed jaw, but Cougar had been in enough fights before to know to duck his head and snap sharp teeth, slicing through the scales that covered the palm. Jensen hissed, pulling back to shake his paw- no, his hand, splattering little crimson drops on the wood floor. They circled each other, Cougar’s trailing tail scuffing along the floor as he turned, actions made slightly slower and awkward by the loose shirt around his torso, trapping his wings along his back. An open attack, charging for Cougar’s flank, and his tail whipped around, striping Jensen’s chest and face and sending him reeling. His claws caught into the tuft of feathers at the tip though, and he watched as Cougar’s lower body buckled slightly. He ripped the tail away, sacrificing feathers to keep the limb. Jensen smirked and lunged straight up.
The living room ceiling was built as an open frame style, so the support beams were visible, and it was into these Jensen let himself disappear. He might not fly, or have the wings, but he could stalk and strike. He wasn’t so trapped by the body to not do those things… and so he escaped. He could watch and feel the dragon below tracking him, by sight and sound, even scent. He knew this, anticipated it. Ripping the shirt off his own back, he grasped it between his hands as he flitted among the rafters, circling behind Cougar’s head. He licked his own lips, scenting the air, eager to taste the rich scent of challenge on the back of his tongue. But the air was empty. Battle-musk was gone, and dragon Jensen peered down in confusion. His opponent was still in dragon form, staring up into the darkness, but… the scent wasn’t one of challenge. Dominance, authority, well matured male, with hints of sand and flowers and meat. But the musk needed to drive him, to rattle his scales and charge heedless into battle, it wasn’t there. It was never there. He growled, demanding.
The return was a rolling, almost purring sound, with little chuffs of amusement. A game, a trick, and he’d fallen for it. He snarled, not caring that it directly gave away his position, and dropped for the dragon’s back. He missed him, barely; Cougar stepping away at the last second and rolling slightly, so Jensen landed on the floor in the exact spot where Cougar’s chest plates had been. A paw slammed into his back, sprawling him against the floor so he had to glare across the grain of the wood to look at the grinning, fanged face. He snarled, rumbling a challenge back at the other dragon, pissed at being so easily taken down. This body was worthless to him!
A clear, calm note cut through the inner turmoil, the rage and aggression pouring through Jensen’s mind. Calm, focus; joy, pleasure, contentment; nuances within the non- song being trilled to him. It invoked the right to balance, demanded focus and summoned a kind of tranquility he knew he’d never really had. There was muted pain as the world around him changed, his body relaxing and hands returning to near normal, body pulsing hot with adrenalin- laced blood. When the music died he opened his eyes, human firmly in control again, it was to see a rather human Cougar sitting a few feet away. He frowned and rubbed a hand along his neck, scales sloughing off in patches as his body decided he didn’t need them anymore.
“Lo siento.” I’m sorry. Jensen scrubbed at the scales on his arms, barely noticing the way they peeled. “I didn’t want to pick a fight with you, Cougs. I really didn’t.”
“Por qué?” Why?
“I can’t fight you. As me, I don’t want to fight you; I think it’s stupid, really. You could break me without even trying. But my instincts, they seem to think you’re a challenge, and I couldn’t ignore that.”
“No. Why didn’t you change?”
Jensen looked up sharply from where he was absently scratching his leg. “I can’t. It’s too diluted for anything more than some scales and sometimes, very rarely, claws. I cannot escape my humanity so easily.” He dangled a strip of scaly skin from two fingers, like a macabre snake molting. “See? It’s so quick to leave me. There’s the things that are always there, but this… it can’t. I can’t.” He dropped the scrap, finally reaching back to scratch at the area between his shoulders. It always sucked to finish shedding there, because he couldn’t properly reach with his nails and often had to resort to scratching his back on the wall to remove the last bits.
A hand brushed his shoulder, and Jensen froze. “Por favor. Let me help you.” Cougar offered his full gaze when Jensen studied him, and finally he conceded, letting Cougar maneuver behind him. Soft scratching around his scales, where bits had flaked off, then over the scales, loosening them. It tickled, and rustled, and somewhat hurt. But it was soothing all the same, familiar in an odd comforting way. Cougar churred softly, and Jensen found himself purring in response. He let himself lapse into the scratch, stroke, peel rhythm Cougar established, until it was calloused fingers stroking smooth skin, massaging the last of the worries away. Then pressure in twin arcs, along his back, and Jensen came to himself as arcs of pain flushed through him. He flung himself away from Cougar, growling as he turned to face him. “What the heck?!”
Cougar shrugged an apology, withdrawing to his nest of blankets. Jensen finally did the same, wrapping himself up on the couch and studying the flame, feeling the throb within his back stay as he fell uneasily into sleep. He missed the concerned gleam in Cougar’s eyes as the older dragon pondered why Jensen’s back had no hint of where he knew the boy’s wings would be, and why a usually extraordinarily pleasurable spot had induced such pain.
---- End chapter 4 -----
Chapter 4. B / (?)
Fandom: Losers
Genre: AU
Rating: PG (13?)
Word Count: roughly 2160 / 5289
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie or Comics The Losers or characters within. I do not make money from writing or posting this fic.
emocezi , love her i do, cause she pretty much helped set up some of the conversations for me. I WUV HER!!!
Note. Chapter 4, part 2. original post too large
Twenty minutes later Jake Jensen was strapping a box onto the back of the ATV and studying the sky. Flakes were starting to come down, and the temperature had dropped, plummeting to the point his skin was crawling with the sensations that preceded the rush of scales. By the time he made it back to the cabin he’d have a body full of decorative, protective scales that would do little to keep out the cold. His mother patted his shoulder before slipping back inside, soft words about not doing anything stupid ringing in his head.
Halfway to the cabin the storm did about what he was expecting it to do- dump the snow in a wash that left mere feet of visibility. If he hadn’t known the trail so well, he’d have gotten lost, but this wasn’t his first run here. He managed to make it back to the cabin in one piece, fine scales thick along his skin as he parked the vehicle and hauled the box to the door. His shoulder thumped the wood, and suddenly the door was open and he was getting nearly dragged inside. Hands took the box, letting him have a chance to stomp an inch of snow off his boots and shake himself free of the layers wrapped around his body. He looked up at Cougar staring at him blankly. “The storm..?”
“It’s getting bad.” Jensen conceded. “There’s no way we’re going anywhere until probably tomorrow midday, and that’s only if the storm stops by dawn. Now come on, help me out.” There were candles stashed around the cabin, he knew, and the box held extra matches. “Go digging into the drawers by the sink, there should be a few candles.” He studied the fireplace- nice and roaring, though the wood pile could use refilling before things got any worse outside. “And grab the blankets off your bed. We’re sleeping out here tonight.”
“Why?” There was a look in Cougar’s eyes he couldn’t define or understand, and Jake realized that he’d never had scales around Cougar before. Fairly sure of that. He simply shrugged and went to grab his own pile of blankets. “The power has a bad habit of going out in storms like this. Sleeping by the fire will keep us from freezing.”
“It will be that bad..?” It wasn’t worried, only casual, and very interested. Jensen dropped his pile of blankets- including spares from the closet- onto one stretch of the sectional couch. “Weatherman says three or four feet of snow. Possible mixed ice. Better safe than sorry, ‘cause it’s going to get frigid outside.” He waited until Cougar paced down the hallway to the rooms, then slung his coat on again and ran around the building to the shed. Wood stacked near to the ceiling waited, dry. He grabbed several bundles by their twine handles and scuttled back, wanting the wood to stay as dry as possible. He dropped them right as Cougar finished spreading his blankets out- right in from of the fireplace. There was barely enough distance to keep stray bits from catching the material on fire, but he’d spread them all over.
And there was a challenge in Cougar’s eyes when they met him. Dare me. Do it. Jensen grinned, lip curling over one incisor. “You’re not stealing all the damned heat.” He settled the wood in the box by the fireplace before stepping over to the candle-lined shelves and mantle. A flick, and suddenly the lit match in his hands was the only light as the electricity flickered.
There was a rumbling growl filling the room, and as the lights surged back on, There was green and gold edging into Cougar’s eyes. “You didn’t want to come see family. You wanted to get my ass alone.” Jensen narrowed his eyes, glaring at Cougar as the man stretched, arching backwards in a way that showed a soft, open line of stomach. Jensen shuddered as his instinct to strike, and strike now, filled him; and he shook himself violently, scales sliding against each other in a dry, raw sound. He blinked, Cougar grinning at him now, a forked tongue flicking from between the sniper’s lips. “Cougar…don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“You started it.” The words were a hiss, and accented, but English. For now. Jensen studied the way Cougar stalked forward, turning slightly to put the wall behind his back. “I didn’t start anything. I swear. You wanted to come along; I just needed a family chat. C’mon Cougs, you don’t want to fight.” He didn’t feel his fingers curl into fists, but something at the back of his mind registered little pressures of too-long nails against his palm. Shit. “Cougar…”
Cougar’s body lowered, but not kneeling… preparing, like a cat waiting to pounce. A deep growl reverberated through the cabin, and Jensen narrowed his eyes, a snarl escaping his own lips. Fine. If he wanted to fight, he would fight. Appease the creature within and prove he wasn’t some punk pushover that’d flash his belly at whim.
The lights flickered, then the electricity cut out, washing the room in the soft glow of candles and firelight. The dim light meant nothing to the occupants, their eyes adjusting with ease to night vision that was above any human’s best. Jensen refused to take his eyes off Cougar, his ears tuning into the other dragon’s calm heartbeat, the rasping of scales. He could see as the dragon features took over the other’s body the way they had that other morning, and Jensen felt a brief pang of envy at Cougar’s ability to truly change. His own scale-work was meager, and he had never been able to do what Cougar was doing. Watching the way those calloused hands turned to talons and hard bony bits, the way his eyes slit and locked into something far different than human, the snaking, tufted tail that gradually appeared- it struck something deep within Jensen.
That something was pissed, volatile, and oh-so jealous. Unable to shed the human body, only modify it, the dragon buried within the hacker wanted, needed to be free. Talons and eyes were not enough, and the feeble, fake scales were a distant echo of the true thing. It wanted out. It needed to get out, to punish and charge and command.
It wanted the little twelve foot dragon- from nose to tail-tip - to submit before the mighty form that would be his if released.
If Jensen the human was coherent enough, he wouldn’t have risen to the bait made of Cougar’s posturing lithe body. But Jensen the dragon was rising, grasping and heaving control in miles a second. An unearthly, inhuman sound filled the cabin, a roaring, screeching tone contained by the walls and wind. It was answered in kind, and the fire flickered with the blurring movements. Cougar launched himself, claws reaching to batter at Jensen's human throat, barely protected, only to be knocked away. The clawed hand tried to hook around the pointed jaw, but Cougar had been in enough fights before to know to duck his head and snap sharp teeth, slicing through the scales that covered the palm. Jensen hissed, pulling back to shake his paw- no, his hand, splattering little crimson drops on the wood floor. They circled each other, Cougar’s trailing tail scuffing along the floor as he turned, actions made slightly slower and awkward by the loose shirt around his torso, trapping his wings along his back. An open attack, charging for Cougar’s flank, and his tail whipped around, striping Jensen’s chest and face and sending him reeling. His claws caught into the tuft of feathers at the tip though, and he watched as Cougar’s lower body buckled slightly. He ripped the tail away, sacrificing feathers to keep the limb. Jensen smirked and lunged straight up.
The living room ceiling was built as an open frame style, so the support beams were visible, and it was into these Jensen let himself disappear. He might not fly, or have the wings, but he could stalk and strike. He wasn’t so trapped by the body to not do those things… and so he escaped. He could watch and feel the dragon below tracking him, by sight and sound, even scent. He knew this, anticipated it. Ripping the shirt off his own back, he grasped it between his hands as he flitted among the rafters, circling behind Cougar’s head. He licked his own lips, scenting the air, eager to taste the rich scent of challenge on the back of his tongue. But the air was empty. Battle-musk was gone, and dragon Jensen peered down in confusion. His opponent was still in dragon form, staring up into the darkness, but… the scent wasn’t one of challenge. Dominance, authority, well matured male, with hints of sand and flowers and meat. But the musk needed to drive him, to rattle his scales and charge heedless into battle, it wasn’t there. It was never there. He growled, demanding.
The return was a rolling, almost purring sound, with little chuffs of amusement. A game, a trick, and he’d fallen for it. He snarled, not caring that it directly gave away his position, and dropped for the dragon’s back. He missed him, barely; Cougar stepping away at the last second and rolling slightly, so Jensen landed on the floor in the exact spot where Cougar’s chest plates had been. A paw slammed into his back, sprawling him against the floor so he had to glare across the grain of the wood to look at the grinning, fanged face. He snarled, rumbling a challenge back at the other dragon, pissed at being so easily taken down. This body was worthless to him!
A clear, calm note cut through the inner turmoil, the rage and aggression pouring through Jensen’s mind. Calm, focus; joy, pleasure, contentment; nuances within the non- song being trilled to him. It invoked the right to balance, demanded focus and summoned a kind of tranquility he knew he’d never really had. There was muted pain as the world around him changed, his body relaxing and hands returning to near normal, body pulsing hot with adrenalin- laced blood. When the music died he opened his eyes, human firmly in control again, it was to see a rather human Cougar sitting a few feet away. He frowned and rubbed a hand along his neck, scales sloughing off in patches as his body decided he didn’t need them anymore.
“Lo siento.” I’m sorry. Jensen scrubbed at the scales on his arms, barely noticing the way they peeled. “I didn’t want to pick a fight with you, Cougs. I really didn’t.”
“Por qué?” Why?
“I can’t fight you. As me, I don’t want to fight you; I think it’s stupid, really. You could break me without even trying. But my instincts, they seem to think you’re a challenge, and I couldn’t ignore that.”
“No. Why didn’t you change?”
Jensen looked up sharply from where he was absently scratching his leg. “I can’t. It’s too diluted for anything more than some scales and sometimes, very rarely, claws. I cannot escape my humanity so easily.” He dangled a strip of scaly skin from two fingers, like a macabre snake molting. “See? It’s so quick to leave me. There’s the things that are always there, but this… it can’t. I can’t.” He dropped the scrap, finally reaching back to scratch at the area between his shoulders. It always sucked to finish shedding there, because he couldn’t properly reach with his nails and often had to resort to scratching his back on the wall to remove the last bits.
A hand brushed his shoulder, and Jensen froze. “Por favor. Let me help you.” Cougar offered his full gaze when Jensen studied him, and finally he conceded, letting Cougar maneuver behind him. Soft scratching around his scales, where bits had flaked off, then over the scales, loosening them. It tickled, and rustled, and somewhat hurt. But it was soothing all the same, familiar in an odd comforting way. Cougar churred softly, and Jensen found himself purring in response. He let himself lapse into the scratch, stroke, peel rhythm Cougar established, until it was calloused fingers stroking smooth skin, massaging the last of the worries away. Then pressure in twin arcs, along his back, and Jensen came to himself as arcs of pain flushed through him. He flung himself away from Cougar, growling as he turned to face him. “What the heck?!”
Cougar shrugged an apology, withdrawing to his nest of blankets. Jensen finally did the same, wrapping himself up on the couch and studying the flame, feeling the throb within his back stay as he fell uneasily into sleep. He missed the concerned gleam in Cougar’s eyes as the older dragon pondered why Jensen’s back had no hint of where he knew the boy’s wings would be, and why a usually extraordinarily pleasurable spot had induced such pain.
---- End chapter 4 -----