Fic: Musical Inclinations (The Losers, Cougar/Jensen)
Title: Musical Inclinations
Fandom: The Losers
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Rating: PG13
Word count: 853
Summary: Cougar isn't as long-suffering as everyone seems to think; he actually prefers Jensen this way.
Author's Notes: Written for "Kareoke" for schmoop_bingo!
Jensen is, quite possibly, the worst singer in the world. Ever.
They've all told him this before at one point or another, but it doesn't stop him singing his heart out at every given opportunity. All things considered that he's their comms guy it's appropriate that he never shuts up, but it can be a nightmare when they're cooped up in one dive or another, enjoying the relative quiet, and all of a sudden a tinny version of some country or mullet rock classic starts blaring followed shortly after by Jensen's squawking.
At least, it's a nightmare for most of them. Cougar can't honestly say that he minds - Jensen's constant chatter and noise is comforting once you get used to it, and when it threatens to get irritating Cougar has the advantage of being an expert at tuning out distractions.
Cougar's never really been a talker. Keeping himself to himself is part of the job description, though that said, Jensen's ramblings reveal little more than strangely domestic fantasies about women and a distrust of furry animals. Personally, he'd rather use words for emphasis, finds most of the time hand signals and body language are more than enough, and the others have learned not to talk for him. It suits him fine - he appreciates being thought of as mysterious, and it gives him an excuse not to answer questions he'd rather ignore.
Jensen's more the talking at people type than the talking to them, and it's a relief, really; when lying in bed most people expect Cougar to start telling them all his secrets, all his reasons for silence, but Jensen would rather follow up an orgasm with "Did you know dolphins have prehensile penises? Seriously, like a monkey's tail, but spermy. Can you imagine deep throating a prehensile dick?"
Admittedly it isn't romantic pillow talk, but romance isn't exactly something Cougar craves.
Cougar really rather hopes that Jensen's current slightly drunk and highly off key rendition of "Stand by your Man" is an ode to the Blues Brothers rather than a misguided attempt to reflect on their relationship.
Jensen tips his cap and winks when he returns to their table, Cougar smirking back. "What do you think, am I more of a Dan Akroyd or a John Belushi?"
"Dan," Cougar replies without hesitation.
"Huh. That was easy." Jensen sounds put out. "Why? Is it 'cause I'm a better dancer?" Cougar shakes his head, smiling lazily to himself as Jensen keeps guessing.
Jensen's still guessing when their beers arrive, so Cougar opts to stop him before the rambling can interrupt valuable drinking time, catches Jensen's wrist with his free hand. "You still have a pulse."
"Yeah, that does come in handy sometimes," Jensen replies, and though he looks down at Cougar's hand he doesn't bother to pull his own free.
Cougar saves him the effort of needing to, lets go but leaves his hand resting close to Jensen's. The night's too warm, sweaty and uncomfortable already, and he's not particularly itching for a fight with anyone who might look over and see them touching.
Doesn't mean there won't be touching later provided Jensen doesn't take the beers as an excuse to eat something stupid; Cougar likes the ladies, yes, but he likes Jensen too, and in sweltering weather like this he'd rather take his chances with someone he knows won't try his patience.
Perhaps Jensen's greatest skill is the ability to shut up when asked nicely enough. Sometimes narration through sex is a good thing, but it's better still to have Jensen promise to keep quiet without any physical impediment, then try every last thing possible to make him break that promise; Cougar was getting better with practise, but Jensen still won out more often than not.
It didn't really matter who won, all things considered that as far as participation sports went being a runner-up was rarely sweeter.
"I think I should start taking requests," Jensen says afterwards, probably hoping the conversation will distract Cougar from the way he's stroking his hair.
Cougar normally hates getting his hair touched; it's half the reason he wears his hat, and one of the other reasons he likes girls - they aren't as grabby, and understand when "don't touch" actually means "don't touch".
He makes exceptions when he's lucky enough to find someone he likes and trusts, and Jensen has the rare quality of belonging to both categories.
"Do you sing? We could totally do a duet."
Cougar doesn't respect the query with a worded answer, simply raises an eyebrow.
"Or not, I just, I was throwing it out there, see what you think -" Jensen trails off when Cougar leans in, almost pouts at the threat of interruption. "What?"
"There're worse singers than you," Cougar replies.
He doesn't kiss Jensen to shut him up this time; he'd rather wait the couple of seconds it takes for Jensen to work out he doesn't just mean 'in the world'. The scope is a lot, lot narrower than that.
It's nice to see a smile on those lips that isn't just there by default.
The End
Fandom: The Losers
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Rating: PG13
Word count: 853
Summary: Cougar isn't as long-suffering as everyone seems to think; he actually prefers Jensen this way.
Author's Notes: Written for "Kareoke" for schmoop_bingo!
Jensen is, quite possibly, the worst singer in the world. Ever.
They've all told him this before at one point or another, but it doesn't stop him singing his heart out at every given opportunity. All things considered that he's their comms guy it's appropriate that he never shuts up, but it can be a nightmare when they're cooped up in one dive or another, enjoying the relative quiet, and all of a sudden a tinny version of some country or mullet rock classic starts blaring followed shortly after by Jensen's squawking.
At least, it's a nightmare for most of them. Cougar can't honestly say that he minds - Jensen's constant chatter and noise is comforting once you get used to it, and when it threatens to get irritating Cougar has the advantage of being an expert at tuning out distractions.
Cougar's never really been a talker. Keeping himself to himself is part of the job description, though that said, Jensen's ramblings reveal little more than strangely domestic fantasies about women and a distrust of furry animals. Personally, he'd rather use words for emphasis, finds most of the time hand signals and body language are more than enough, and the others have learned not to talk for him. It suits him fine - he appreciates being thought of as mysterious, and it gives him an excuse not to answer questions he'd rather ignore.
Jensen's more the talking at people type than the talking to them, and it's a relief, really; when lying in bed most people expect Cougar to start telling them all his secrets, all his reasons for silence, but Jensen would rather follow up an orgasm with "Did you know dolphins have prehensile penises? Seriously, like a monkey's tail, but spermy. Can you imagine deep throating a prehensile dick?"
Admittedly it isn't romantic pillow talk, but romance isn't exactly something Cougar craves.
Cougar really rather hopes that Jensen's current slightly drunk and highly off key rendition of "Stand by your Man" is an ode to the Blues Brothers rather than a misguided attempt to reflect on their relationship.
Jensen tips his cap and winks when he returns to their table, Cougar smirking back. "What do you think, am I more of a Dan Akroyd or a John Belushi?"
"Dan," Cougar replies without hesitation.
"Huh. That was easy." Jensen sounds put out. "Why? Is it 'cause I'm a better dancer?" Cougar shakes his head, smiling lazily to himself as Jensen keeps guessing.
Jensen's still guessing when their beers arrive, so Cougar opts to stop him before the rambling can interrupt valuable drinking time, catches Jensen's wrist with his free hand. "You still have a pulse."
"Yeah, that does come in handy sometimes," Jensen replies, and though he looks down at Cougar's hand he doesn't bother to pull his own free.
Cougar saves him the effort of needing to, lets go but leaves his hand resting close to Jensen's. The night's too warm, sweaty and uncomfortable already, and he's not particularly itching for a fight with anyone who might look over and see them touching.
Doesn't mean there won't be touching later provided Jensen doesn't take the beers as an excuse to eat something stupid; Cougar likes the ladies, yes, but he likes Jensen too, and in sweltering weather like this he'd rather take his chances with someone he knows won't try his patience.
Perhaps Jensen's greatest skill is the ability to shut up when asked nicely enough. Sometimes narration through sex is a good thing, but it's better still to have Jensen promise to keep quiet without any physical impediment, then try every last thing possible to make him break that promise; Cougar was getting better with practise, but Jensen still won out more often than not.
It didn't really matter who won, all things considered that as far as participation sports went being a runner-up was rarely sweeter.
"I think I should start taking requests," Jensen says afterwards, probably hoping the conversation will distract Cougar from the way he's stroking his hair.
Cougar normally hates getting his hair touched; it's half the reason he wears his hat, and one of the other reasons he likes girls - they aren't as grabby, and understand when "don't touch" actually means "don't touch".
He makes exceptions when he's lucky enough to find someone he likes and trusts, and Jensen has the rare quality of belonging to both categories.
"Do you sing? We could totally do a duet."
Cougar doesn't respect the query with a worded answer, simply raises an eyebrow.
"Or not, I just, I was throwing it out there, see what you think -" Jensen trails off when Cougar leans in, almost pouts at the threat of interruption. "What?"
"There're worse singers than you," Cougar replies.
He doesn't kiss Jensen to shut him up this time; he'd rather wait the couple of seconds it takes for Jensen to work out he doesn't just mean 'in the world'. The scope is a lot, lot narrower than that.
It's nice to see a smile on those lips that isn't just there by default.
The End