3. In Which Things Happen
Disclaimer : Non of this is mine, if it was, I'd have made Aisha a slash-fan squeeling after the CougarxJensen romance and Roque would have never betrayed anyone and Clay wouldn't have been so blinded by revenge and boobs that he'd lead his men to slaughter. Oh and COUGAR WOULD HAVE NEVER DIED! DX
Summary : In which Roque is bewildered, Clay is ready to throw the towel, Pooch is not amused, Jensen thinks naughty thoughts and Cougar is... well... cougar-y...
Warnings : PG for safety. random f-bombs here and there. clear slashy thoughts from a certain blonde techie. and yes slashy my dear friends is about the interlocking parts that take place at the back not the front, and with both (or several, I'm not judging) partners sharing similar tastes and parts down THERE :O Oh and beware, I love innuendos, and I'm in an innuendo mood! *evil cackle*
A/N : I hope you'll permit the artistic license for the boys ages, I can't seem to be bothered to remember the right ages |D
Cougar grunted slightly as the strain in his legs started to take its toll. Letting out a slow breath, he continued anyway, the movement of his hips sending distress signal to his brain but he couldn't stop now, it was still too soon, and he needed just a bit more before the slow, languid torture could end. Fuck Jensen, this was all his fault anyway, him and his stupid ideas. ¡Estupido parlanchín!
Roque's eyes went back and forth from his commanding officer to their sniper, feeling slightly awed against his will. An hour and a fucking half, they'd been at it and neither man seem to be ready to stop now. And the growing number of witnesses and gawkers just seem to make them steady on even more.
The Pooch was not happy, not at all. At the rate those two were going, he was going to lose all the money he'd bet with Jensen. And da-yum but those two sure knew how to put on a show! Of course, he'd known that Clay would be like that but most of the time, their sniper was so silent and unassuming, but here he was, baring his teeth at the older man, his face contorting in an expression of pain and determination to see this through. Even the hat had fallen off his head some times ago, leaving his long black tresses free as some stuck to his face from the sweat pouring out of every pore.
Clay was feeling all of his 39 years of life, and it was really painfully old right now, compared to Cougar's 26. His hips and abs were killing him and his legs were trembling under the strain, but he kept on, just a little bit more and his overly abused muscles could rest. If only Cougar could just let it go already.
Jensen was trying. He was trying really hard not to think about how Cougar's hair was sticking to his jaw and neck. Trying not to think about the slow bobbing of the Mexican's adam's apple as the sniper threw his head back with a hiss of discomfort at an aborted movement. Or the way his hips and abs strained to stay in position as Clay's wavered and stuttered to a stop. Yes he'd been the one to give the two bored soldiers an outlet to their boredom in their overly competitive mindset, but it wasn't supposed to be that sexy or that hard to look away from!
Another half hour passed as everyone crowding the two men made bets on who would give in first when suddenly a clamouring noise was heard, half-joyous, victorious even, half-disappointed. Jensen could be heard claiming to any who'd hear that he knew his Cougs would win, it was only normal for the SuperDuperMegaAwesome-Sniper-Of-Doom (no offense, Clay but you know I'm right!). Receiving laughs and incredulous stares. Clay was looking at his men with a slight amused smile, shaking his head fondly at his techie before ordering Roque to help him up, his legs feeling like jelly.
- "¡Oida-me!, estupido parlanchín, ¡es la ultima vez que me haces competir para ti!, ¿entiendes?
" Cougar hissed as the comms expert hoisted him up and dragged him toward their temporary campment, his legs supporting him just enough to leave him some decency.
- "Ah c'mon Cougs, you know you liked beating the Colonel!" Jensen replied with a dashing smile, trying not to think about how the other man's sweat-covered body was positively draped over his, held flushed against his side.
- "Those abs exercises are a killer, Jensen, look at my man Cougs, he can't even stand alone..." The Pooch added his two cents." Although, nearly 3 hours without letting his legs down, the Colonel isn't all that rusty either!"
- "Thanks Pooch, appreciated!" Clay retorted wrily as Roque tried not to laugh at him.
An hour later and many inventive invectives from the CO and the sniper, every Loser was in the barrack, getting once again bored out of their minds.
- "Well, all in all, it was a rather productive afternoon, wasn't it!" Jensen smiled at his teammates, ignoring the obvious glares from Pooch (who had lost 50$ to him) and Clay (whose abs still screamed in pain any time he tried to sit up to quickly).
- "SHUT UP JENSEN!" Both men said in perfect sync.
Jensen fake sighed and sat at the foot of Cougar's bed, where the sniper was currently asleep (or trying to hide behind his cowboy hat, who knew).
- "At least you're not angry with me, right Cougs?" He said with a small pout, before an evil grin flashed on his face and disappeared just as quickly and he poked at the other man's stomach.
Jensen just had time to yelp before the other man threw himself at him and got him in a headlock.
- "ACK! COUGAR! BE GENTLE!"
FIN¡Oida-me!, estupido parlanchín, ¡es la ultima vez que me haces competir para ti!, ¿entiendes?
- Listen to me, you stupid chatterbox, it's the last time you make me compete for you, got it?
A/N : I've been told that the excercise they did is called "The Dying Cockroach" so yeah that was what they did. Why, thought it was something else for a moment? ;D