Losers in the West 3/?
Title: Losers in the West
Rating: R
Pairings: Cougar/Jensen
Disclaimer: I don't own the Losers, but I did make up the story, just not most of the characters.
Warning: AU, contains slash, sex, and cursing
Summary: The year is 1878, a rogue ghost agent for the government known as ‘Max’ is stirring up trouble in the recently occupied west. Jensen and a rag-tag team assembled by Clay are assigned the mission to investigate and stop Max. After recent complications on the journey a new member has joined the team, but the question is, can he be trusted?
Chapter 3: Getting Acquainted
The evening after the bandit attack Jensen wandered into the dining car for a late night supper. The car was empty, except for Clay and Pooch sitting in the corner playing poker. He planted himself next to Pooch eyeing his cards, “He’s got a bad hand,” he whispered to Clay.
“Damn it Jensen!” Pooch cursed and threw his cards on the table. It had been a losing hand.
“Come on deal me in,” Jensen tried to snatch the cards from Clay only to have them pulled out of reach.
“I think I’ll keep this hand,” Clay said and the other two looked at one another before leaning across the table in an attempt to snatch the cards away. Once they got the colonel to show his hand they found that he had an even worse hand than Pooch.
“You were bluffing. The whole time… oh you’re good Colonel,” Pooch laughed and gathered all the cards together.
“What do you expect from a Union War Hero?” Jensen pointed out as the waiter came over to take his order. Once the man walked away the blonde looked back at his companions, taking up his hand before he shifted the cards around.
“Is it true what they said about you at Fort Stedman?”
“Which part?” Clays said as he sipped some whiskey from the flask he kept tucked in his jacket pocket.
“How you helped bring about the cross fire that cut off the rebels. Oh or the part where you took out a guy on a horse with a canon,” Jensen chimed in and Pooch nodded as if those same enquiries were on his mind.
“That whole canon thing is bull,” Clay set some of his cards down and slid them over to Pooch. “I just shot him with a pistol when he was coming at me. I only fired a canon maybe three times in my whole career. Fort Stedman was not one of those times.”
“Did you really convince fifty soldiers to surrender?” Pooch slid him back a few cards.
“Once the breakthrough failed they were ready to turn tail and run. I just helped them run in the right direction,” the colonel explained. “Most of those stories are over exaggerated. I’m no war hero.”
“So humble,” Jensen hummed as his food was brought over. “We ready?”
“Right, read them and weep.” They all revealed their hand and Pooch howled in victory when he showed the higher hand. “Give me some of your chicken.”
“I did not bet my dinner,” Jensen shielded his food.
“Technically we didn’t bet, but the winner has to get something,” Pooch snatched a leg from the chicken so he could nibble on it. Jensen looked to the colonel for some assistance but the older man just sipped on his whiskey to try and hide his laughter. “So Colonel, what do you know about Cougar?” Pooch asked as he tossed the clean bone back onto Jensen’s plate.
“You could ask him yourself.”
“All he’ll do is speak in Spanish.”
“Then I guess you better learn Spanish.”
“Come on. If we’re gonna work with him we should at least know something about him.”
Jensen ate in curious silence, his gaze fixed on Clay who looked a little uncertain about what answer he should give. “He’s not a Mexican assassin.” Jensen felt strangely relieved to hear this. “He’s from California, and by the looks of it he’s a top-notch gunman. You want to know more than that you need to ask him,” was the only response they got before Clay got up to leave.
Pooch gathered all the cards together and stuffed them in his pocket, “Clay really seems to trust him,” Pooch whispered as he watched the colonel’s retreating back.
“He probably knows something that we don’t know,” Jensen said as he finished the last of his meal. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you meet Clay?”
“I was a supply teamster for the Union front. When the Confederates tried to cut off supplies, Clay was leading a team to try and protect the routes. At one point things got real tight and he needed an out. I just happened to be around to give him a ride,” Pooch laughed at the memory, “Apparently I’m the best driver he’s ever met. How did you meet Clay?”
“He was my superior at Petersburg.”
“Petersburg. Must have been tough.”
“Scary shit, trust me. I was just a kid really. I had no idea how to hold gun much less how to kill a man. Clay looked out for me, and to be honest if it wasn’t for him I’d probably be dead,” Jensen frowned in an almost painful manner, his gaze fixed on the bones scattered on his plate. Pooch shook him back into reality and he laughed breathlessly. “Petersburg, was a nightmare.”
“I’m gonna head to bed, you going to be alright?”
“Sure. I’ll just have a drink then I’ll head back to the cabin,” Jensen removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. The coffee colored blur that he knew was Pooch slowly walked away, pausing at the door to look back at him. He waved as he replaced his glasses and let the waiter take away his plates, “Bourbon, please.”
His drink was brought over to him and the blonde sulked into his glass in a familiar silence. Ever since the war had ended he had lived at home alone. His inventions and experiments served as pleasant distractions to him occupy his time. Though once in a while he received visits from his sister, a less common occurrence in recent months. His family was not well off, but he had been willed enough money to survive off of his tinkering and soldier pay.
He took a sip of the liquor and looked up when he heard Cougar enter the dining car. Jensen smiled at the sight of the sharpshooter, “Came for a midnight snack?”
Cougar arched brow at this statement as if confused.
“Never mind,” Jensen went back to his drink, not even watching the other man when he sat down across from him.
“You’re quiet,” Cougar said in his only slightly accented English.
“For all you know this is normal for me.”
“You chatter. Right now you’re quiet,” he insisted and Jensen pondered being insulted.
“What do you want me to talk about?” Cougar shrugged. “I can’t just talk about anything. I mean that’s a waste of words, and in some cultures words are things that should be used sparingly. One time while I was in New York I was talking with these people from China, and they were talking to me about their customs and stuff. Can you believe that they wear dresses all the time? I guess they like to think of them as robes, but really they remind me of these silky pajamas. It actually feels kind of nice, all smooth and…” Jensen blinked when he realized that he was rambling. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You got me to ramble. On command.”
“You wanted to talk,” Cougar stated as if it were obvious.
“You’re dangerous,” Jensen took a last swig of his drink. “Where’d you learn to be so dangerous?”
“Armada.”
“But if you’re in the army why were you being taken to Yuma to be executed?”
“I killed people.”
“Soldiers kill people.”
“I killed innocent people.”
“Oh,” Jensen trailed off when he realized that he was poking a sore spot. “Can you teach me to shoot like that?”
“Si.”
“Not the Spanish…”
“¿No Te gusta?” You don’t like?
“No speako Spanish.”
“No habla Espanol,” Cougar corrected and Jensen rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should teach you Spanish.”
“I’d rather you speak English,” the blonde rested his chin on the palm of his hand. His gaze wandered over to the window though there was really nothing to see except for the darkness. “They say that there are billions of stars in the sky, but we can only see a small percentage of those stars with the naked eyes. Could you imagine what it would be like to go into space? I heard there’s no air, and I bet you that it’s real cold…” for a long while he ranted about space and Cougar listened. Not just pretended to listen, the man actually nodded on occasion and listened. Eventually a new train of throat seized his tongue and before he could filter the statement he asked, “Why do they call you Cougar?”
The sharpshooter shrugged his shoulders but offered no answer. This left Jensen to rake his own brain for an explanation.
“I’ve read somewhere that the cougar is seen as a powerful protector. Maybe that’s why you’re Cougar…” he trailed off when he saw the same sore look he had seen only moments before. “Do you need to talk?”
“No. You can’t talk away ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
Cougar remained silent, which told Jensen that it was for the best to leave that conversation for another time. When the waiter came over he requested another glass of Bourbon, and Cougar ordered a glass of whiskey. For a few hours Jensen just rambled, while Cougar listened until the pair stumbled back towards their cabin. Jensen had his arm wrapped around Cougar’s shoulders his mouth still going off even if he wasn’t saying anything.
“I don’t mind it when you speak Spanish,” Jensen whispered as he swayed to the rocking of the train. He received no words in return but somehow he just knew what the other man was thinking. “You hardly say anything unless you speak in Spanish. It’s actually real exotic,” the blonde laughed, “Maybe even arousing. Can you believe that word? Arousing,” he repeated it a few times not even realizing that they weren’t walking anymore, “Cougar, you are arousing.”
The blonde looked over at the man he was leaning on and laughed at the stunned expression. Absentmindedly Jensen reached out to touch Cougar’s hat only to have his wrist seized in an iron grip. Almost sluggishly he was thrown into the wall, his arm twisted behind his back in a hold that was firm, but not painful.
With his cheek pressed against the cool coarse surface of the train wall Jensen began to sober up. “Cougar?” he looked over his shoulder at the other man and only saw his hat tipped down to conceal his face. The sharpshooter’s other hand rested on his shoulder sliding up the side of his neck to glide over the front of his throat. Jensen tipped his head back and winced when the wall rubbed against the side of his face, skewing his glasses.
Cougar’s body pressed against him from behind causing Jensen to shiver as he curled his fingers. He groaned softly as the tan fingers wandered down his abdomen to roughly rub his arousal through his pants. Jensen twisted his wrist in the hold keeping his arm pinned, testing to see if the other would let him go. When the grip remained firm he arched back against Cougar and felt an impressive hardness against his backside. He panted nervously when he felt the sharpshooter work open his pants, those long fingers gliding along a trail of blonde curls.
“Cougar,” Jensen repeated. His cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink. When the gunman wrapped his fingers around Jensen’s length Cougar gave it a curious stroke, and was pleased by the choked sound that Jensen made when he tried to suppress his voice.
“Hablar…” Cougar growled against the blonde’s shoulder. The member in his hand stiffened suddenly, and the sharpshooter smirked at the flustered look on Jensen’s face. Apparently his words really were arousing.
Jensen lifted his free hand to rest his forehead against his arm only to bite down on his knuckles when he neared release. Suddenly the hand stroking him disappeared and his pants were pulled down to his knees. There was the sound of more clothes rustlings then the feel of a hot length pressed against his ass. “Shit,” the blonde tensed up.
Cougar released Jensen’s arm in favor of stroking down his back, whispering soft words on encouragement before he continued. A calloused thumb parted pale cheeks as Cougar pressed his hardness against the surprisingly tight ring of muscles.
Penetration was uncomfortable for both of them. Jensen gasped for air as he choked on soft curses and pained whimpers. Cougar growled under his breath as he bucked his hips forward until he was completely buried inside the blonde. When he seemed to adjust to the intrusion Cougar began to thrust into his tight passage, setting a slow but powerful pace. Jensen cried out into the back of his hand, his eyes clenched shut as he once again approached his limit. When he went over the edge he sagged against the wall, tensing up after he felt a strange wetness fill him. The hand that had been wrapped around his dick disappeared and returned with a soft handkerchief that was used to clean away his seed.
“Can you stand?” Cougar whispered into the other man’s smooth pale back.
“I’m not so sure,” Jensen replied in an exhausted voice. “It hurts,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Cougar pulled out.
The same hands that had undressed him helped put his clothes back together. His hands dropping to his sides as Cougar flipped him over so he had his back to the wall. After some sense started to return he readjusted his glasses and blinked a few times until he realized that the lenses were smudged.
Cougar plucked them off his face and cleaned them, putting them back on Jensen’s face before he could react. He touched his tan fingers over the flushed face in front of him only to pause when his thumb caressed dry cracked lips. “That was a first for me,” the blonde whispered, causing his mouth to flutter over the exploring fingers.
The sharpshooter pulled away as if he had been burned, and Jensen was left to hold himself up. Lost in his own thoughts Cougar lingered a few inches away with his hat tipped down to hide his face. There was something in his body language that made Jensen want to reach for him. However before he could put thought into action Cougar turned on his heels to march off toward the door at the end of the hall.
“Damn,” Jensen whispered and looked out the window. There was some rustling when the nearby cabins started to come to life which told Jensen that it was time to head back to his own cabin. “The least he could have done was wait for me,” he grunted as his backside throbbed with each step.
A?N: This was surprisingly difficult to write. I hope I did an alright job with the sex scene. -.-;;;