kaitlia777 (kaitlia777) wrote,
kaitlia777
kaitlia777

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Title: Maldita Toalla

Title: Maldita Toalla
Characters: Clay, Pooch, Cougar, Jensen, Aisha
Fandom: Losers
Summary: Fic based on a smoking’ hot pic of our beloved hacker
Rating: M
Warnings: Spoilers for the Losers movie possible
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, Just taking them out to play
Author's Note: Okay, so any Losers fan knows that maratonista writes awesome, awesome Losers fic, and, while looking for any fic tagged Losers on her LJ, I came across an entry that was not a fic, but a couple of pictures and a question. “ Okay Losers, someone please explain why there is no fic based on (hot, debauched pic of Chris Evans) or, you know...this one (second hot pic)?”

So, this is for Maratonista!







Between the five of them, the Losers possessed an incredibly impressive array of skills. There was very little they couldn’t accomplish. Planning, brains, brawn, weapons, linguistics, computer genius, mechanical know-how… they had it all in spades.

The ability to blend in with the yuppie, white collar work force of a particularly modern office building in order to access the Intel kept on one of their servers…yeah, they weren’t much for wholesome, all Americana.

There wasn’t even a doubt that Jensen would have to do that grift and grab. He was the only one with the faintest chance in hell of passing himself off as one of the white bread, clean-cut, Ivy League types.

And, if things went south, Aisha had a small, controlled explosion set up as plan B..

Of course, Jensen was confident in his abilities. After they’d gone over the plan a half dozen times, he disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower. Aisha and Clay poured over the blueprints and plans again, while Pooch e-mailed Jolene and Cougar went to work cleaning his guns.

Just a typical night for them.

A half hour after the bathroom door had been shut, it swung open, allowing a cloud of steam to roll out into the main room.

“What the hell, man?” Pooch laughed. “You trying to turn the tub into a sauna?”

“No,” the tech replied, muffled by the towel he was vigorously scrubbing over his head as he emerged. Another towel was wrapped around his hips, several inches south of his bellybutton. His lightly tanned skin glistened with moisture and a few droplets escaped from where they had hidden amidst the thatch of hair on his chest to slowly drip down washboard abs, racing to be absorbed by the cotton towel. Dewy moisture made his many tattoos shine under the room’s fluorescent lighting.

While in the bathroom, he’d clearly done something to his hair. It was still blond, but a darker, richer shade and he might have trimmed it as well.

But what was most shocking was the fact that he had shaved his goatee. Without the facial fuzz, he looked, younger, softer, more innocent. The look was only enhanced by his missing glasses.

When he noticed the fact that the rest of his team mates was staring, Jensen asked, “What?”

It was Pooch who burst out laughing. “You look like you just stepped out of a soft core porn flick!”

Aisha tilted her head to the side contemplatively, then nodded, indicating that she agreed with Pooch. Clay simply said, “I’m just wondering where all the food you eat goes.”

The hacker scowled. “I exercise and have a naturally high metabolism.”

“You live on hot pockets, Pop tarts and red bull,” the former colonel snickered. “No one’s metabolism is that good.”

“Ha ha,” Jensen mumbled and proceeded to root around in his bag for clothes, his every movement causing his muscles to bunch and jump. “Anyone else feel the need to mock me? You done, Pooch? Aisha? Cougs, any input?”

The sniper hadn’t said a word. This was not entirely uncommon for him. What was uncommon, was the fact that he was staring at his teammate and had a stranglehold on the barrel of his rifle. It was actually vaguely naughty image in itself, and that combined with Jensen’s current ‘softcore’ look…well, let’s just say Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had never applied to the losers.

Their policy was more like Don’t Give A Fuck Who Ya Fuck As Long As You Do Your Fucking Job. Not as catchy an acronym as DADT, but it worked for them.

Out of the whole team, Pooch was the only one in a steady, stable, long-term relationship. Clay in the habit of chasing individuals whose most common character traits could be described using the words unstable, dangerous, bat shit crazy and just generally bad for him. Cougar had game and could pull any time he desired to do so. Jensen attempted to flirt with pretty much everyone, but only actually succeeded when he wasn’t actively attempting to pick someone up.

No one really discussed the whole Clay/Roque, respect/hatefuck relationship, and they certainly didn’t talk about the odd dance Cougar and Jensen had been doing for…a long time now.

Actually, Aisha occasionally did make a comment or two, comparing them to an old married couple or telling them to get a room when they were being particularly… them.

Pooch always suspected that Jensen was half oblivious to the whole situation, but then he occasionally thought the younger man was simply trying to push the sniper to the edge of his endurance. Hell, Pooch was a happily married man, but the sounds Jensen made while eating a Snickers bar we’re downright erotic.

At the moment, it looked like Cougar was about to snap the shaft of his rifle in half with his bare hands. Clearly Aisha saw this as well and snagged Clay by the arm. “We’ll see you guys in the morning,” she said with a devilish grin. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Jensen shot her vaguely puzzled look and Pooch gathered his things and headed for the door as well. Turning to look back over his shoulder, he added, “Try not to destroy the place, huh?”

****************************************************************

“What was that about?”

Honestly, sometimes Cougar thought Jensen was less self aware than your average Yorkshire Terrier. And he had seen Button (the four pound terror that belonged to Jamie, Jensen’s niece) try to take on a nasty German Sheppard as though the little fluff ball thought they were the same size.

It was the only way he could reconcile the hacker’s guileless expression with the fact that he was standing there, making Cougar envious of the water droplet on his clavicle. When Jensen shifted under the intensity of the sniper’s gaze the droplet was dislodged. It rolled over his left pectoral muscle, lingering for a moment beside his nipple before continuing down his chest. Cougar couldn't tear his eyes away as it made its way down, an antagonizing slow path over each perfectly defined abdominal muscle before…maldita toalla.

The confusion was still there as Cougar carefully laid down his weapon and rose stalking towards the younger man. Jensen blinked a little, but he trusted his friend enough to hold his ground when most men would have backed away, scrambling for some form of cover, probably thinking they were about to get killed.

“Okay, Cougs, were you all doing drugs while I was in the shower, ‘cause everyone’s acting all…”

Normally, Cougar simply let the younger man babble away. He actually found it rather cute. Tonight however, he reached out, laid his hands on Jensen’s shoulders, feeling the soft, damp skin and a few, scattered scars and dragged him in close and kissed him.

He actually kissed Jensen.

Mierda.

Jensen froze for an instant, then tilted his head slightly and parted his soft lips for under Cougar’s. The flesh under his hands is warm and strong, all strong, strong muscle that jumps and flexes when the pads of his fingers ghost over sensitive spots. On the occasions he picks up a guy at a bar, Cougar opted for tall, well built blond men (glasses were preferred), but they didn’t compare to the real deal.

When he paused for a moment to allow Jensen to collect his thoughts, the Hacker looked at him, a little dazed and said, “That was unexpected, but also extremely appreciated and please tell me you’re going to do that again!”

Cougar chuckled, a low, raspy sound, at the very Jensen outburst and somehow it was the right response because the hacker seemed to melt into him and made a sound in his throat that sent a bolt straight to Cougar's cock and this time it was Jensen who initiated the kiss, hot and open-mouthed, almost painfully intimate.

The sniper was fairly certain that all blood flow to his brain came to a screeching halt.

He pushed Jensen back towards the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that the hacker’s lips, kiss bruised and parted to allow his tongue to make a brief appearance, were flushed pink, almost the same shade as his nipples.

They found the bed, almost by luck, and Cougar gave Jensen’s towel a yank, letting drop to the floor before planting his hands on the furry chest and shoving him onto the bed, falling with him to pin the hacker to the bed.

"Clothes," Jensen mumbled. “Clothes off. Now!”

“Patience,” he whispered against Jensen’s throat and could feel the moan ripple through the younger man as he rolled his clothed hips down against bare skin.

Jensen shifted beneath him, usual, manic energy clearly still present in his frustration. “Cougar….”

There was the tiniest hint of begging and also the promise of creative retribution in Jensen’s strained voice and Cougar fumbled with his shirt buttons. Jensen’s quick, clever fingers joined his and made quick work of the annoying little things. He knelt up, quickly shrugging the shirt from his shoulders and nearly jumped when he felt the button of his jeans pop open and the fly was lowered.

Cougar scrambled to his feet to slide his pants and briefs down, managing to kick them away in a pile with his boots and socks. He felt Jensen’s eyes on him as he fought with his clothes, the younger man in a graceful sprawl before him, all long, lean lines as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Forget what you’re doing?”

Obviously, he was taking too long for Jensen and Cougar shook his head. "No."

Finally free of the fabric, Cougar slowly lowered himself, once again sprawled atop Jensen.

For a moment, the only thing Cougar could think about was the feel of heated skin against heated skin, the shift of lithe muscle and dulce madre de dios Jensen was laying open mouthed kisses against his shoulder. He was fairly certain he wasn’t going to last very long, especially not if Jensen’s clever fingers, creeping slowly down his belly, reached their intended destination.

Moving quickly, Cougar captured Jensen’s wrists in his hands and drew his arms up over the he hackers head, entangling their fingers and trapping them against the bed. If he wanted to, Jensen would have been able to break free, but he seemed content to allow the gentle restraint.

In fact, he seemed to like it.

Jensen rolled his hips up, sliding his cock against Cougar’s, hot, hard and ready. He arched up to kiss him, hot and eager, sucking on Cougar’s lips and tongue, then mumbled, “Fuck…Just fucking do something!”

It was no hardship to obey the strained command and Cougar smoothed a hand over Jensen’s shoulder, thumb brushing the clavicle and fingers giving a gentle tug to the chest hair. That made the hacker growl a little and Cougar chuckled, fingers following the trail of hair below his naval, fanning out to stroke the prominent iliac crest, enjoying the way the younger man gasped and squirmed. He leaned down and bit gently at the curve where Jensen’s neck me his shoulder as he wrapped his fingers around Jensen’s pito.

And Jesus, Jensen’s free hand is on him, moving in firm, expert strokes that have him rushing towards the edge. Desires long held in check were unleashed and he knew they weren’t going to be up for anything more complicated than this…at least, not this time.

Under him, Jensen was making these little gasping noises and thrusting against him and Cougar lost himself completely, barely feeling the hacker arch under him or hear the groan of release as he joined him.

Cougar slumped down atop Jensen, who hugged him for a moment before rolling him onto the bed. They lay there, catching their breath and recuperating until Jensen muttered, “I’m going to have to take another fucking shower.”

The sniper smirked. A shower could be interesting.

Tags: fic, jensen/cougar, losers
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