There's so many different worlds

So many different suns

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Fic: His
Blind Man's Bluff
maratonista
His
R
Cougar/Jensen
Cougar might hate everything about Jensen, but make no mistake, the kid is his.
Violence, disturbing imagery, attempted sexual assault.



Jensen had zero sense of self-preservation.

That was the first thing Cougar learned about him.

The talking, that was just a part of it. He could take care of his team when he needed to, but when it came to himself he was absolutely fucking hopeless. His brain was so preoccupied with gizmos and gadgets that it didn’t see the need to waste effort on something so trivial as his own safety.

He talked when he should shut the fuck up. He was quiet when he actually needed to speak out and say ‘what the fuck, no!’. He flirted as if everyone had the same outlook and expectations in life, and he genuinely, honestly didn’t understand that someone could ever want to hurt him, Jake, and not The Loser’s techie Jensen.

It drove Cougar insane.

There had always been something unspoken in the team. Cougar watched their backs – it was what he did, and no one was better. It made sense then, that Cougar watched Jensen’s back.

He resented the fuck out of it.

Jensen was a pain in the ass kid who had no idea how the world worked. He played with his computer and real horrors, real people didn’t seem to even blip his radar.

Why then should Cougar, who couldn’t sleep at night for the Hell he replayed in his head, be charged with protecting Jake motherfucking Jensen from every fly, gnat or asshole who might hurt his precious feelings?

Exactly.




He was surprised how easy it came.




Cougar justified it by thinking he would do the same for Pooch, or Roque, or Clay. The fact that they could take care of themselves didn’t preclude them from being caught out in the field, and that was where Cougar came in. He might not have liked Jensen, but he wasn’t about to let anyone get shot on his watch.

It worked well.

As far as Jensen was concerned, Cougar was the coolest thing since the Echo Bot – and Cougar had no fucking clue what that was. He didn’t seem phased by the fact that when Cougar wasn’t ignoring him completely, he was glaring.

Cougar hated him, and Jensen hadn’t got a fucking clue.




Jensen got himself stabbed in Azerbaijan and ruined Cougar’s motherfucking record. Once they’d stitched him back together and Clay was done yelling, Roque dragged him to one side and gave him a black eye to go with the tramlines on his chest.

That was how they did things.

Jensen shrugged his shoulders and they moved on.

For some reason, Cougar couldn’t look at him until the bruises faded.




In Chile they got caught up with an uprising against a local drug dealer.

When they weren’t fighting for their lives, they were hiding in ditches with the locals. Jensen struck up a friendship with two little girls who, under the watchful eyes of their parents, tried to teach him how to make the braided bracelets they liked to wear.

Jensen had looked sad to leave them behind when they’d made their final assault on the drug dealer’s stronghold.

He’d looked even sadder when they’d returned to find the village in flames and two little bodies sat up by the fence, their throats ripped open.

Cougar thought that maybe, just maybe, that would kill the last of Jensen’s happy-go-lucky bullshit. The kid would grow up and start realizing that actions had consequences, and that sometimes, they were fucking horrific.

He could have told Jensen it wasn’t his fault. Pooch, Clay, even Roque did. When Jensen looked at Cougar as if he valued his word more than any other, Cougar turned and walked off.

He’d never felt like more of an asshole in his life.




Clay called him on it in they way only Clay could. Gruff, stern, but oddly compassionate. “You want him to end up like us?” Cougar followed Clay’s gaze towards Jensen who sat quiet and morose by the fire.

He shook his head.




After that, Cougar made a conscious effort to not be so obvious in his hatred, but it seemed Jensen had gotten the message. He stuck by Pooch and Clay, didn’t look at Cougar, didn’t tease him or gush about that awesome fucking shot.

Roque, who self-righteously clung to his title as Unit Asshole, shot Cougar the odd dark glare when no one was looking. Cougar didn’t know if it was because he’d fallen under the kid’s spell, or he resented the fact that Cougar had usurped his throne.




In Nicaragua, he was left alone with Jensen while the others reccied the terrain. Jensen, with only a shitty little laptop, sat in the middle of the forrest and hacked two satellites.

Apparently that was hard. Cougar didn’t know.

Jensen bounced around gleefully, proud of himself and chattering away like he hadn’t since Chile. When he caught himself, caught Cougar staring, he flushed and fell silent.

The colonel’s words ran through Cougar’s head. Fuck no, he didn’t want Jensen to end up like him.

He was just at a loss how to go about fixing things.

If he were Jensen, it would be easy. He’d talk his way out of someone’s bad books.

Only Cougar didn’t really talk. Not about himself.

Esto es un misionero que está en plena selva y se encuentra de bruces con un león que estaba casi muerto de hambre.” Cougar didn’t look up and continued stripping down his rifle. He didn’t need to see Jensen to know he had his attention. “El misionero se asusta y se pone de rodillas. Empezando a rezar dice: Padre, infunde a este pobre león sentimientos cristianos.” He did look up then, and Jensen stared at him, enraptured, “...Se oye un silencio...” He drew out the pause for effect. It had been a long time since he’d told a joke, but he’d not forgotten the flare for the dramatic he needed to pull it off. Jensen hung on his every word. “y de buenas a primeras el león se pone de rodillas, diciendo: Padre, bendice estos alimentos que voy a recibir.

Jensen blinked at him. “You know I don’t speak Spanish, but I don’t think you were saying you want to rip my head off and eat my brains, so I am going to assume you said something deep and meaningful and I should nod and listen. This is me nodding and listening.” He nodded his head enthusiastically. “You don’t want to rip my head off and eat my brains do you? Because I’m kinda attached to both and I’d like to keep them and I know you don’t like me very much but my brain does come in useful from time to time and I think you’d be acting rashly if you decided to eat it. I’m not sure how the human body even digests brain. You could get the runs. Not only will you be minus my brain but you’ll be shitting like it’s going out of fashion.”

He didn’t stop for breath once.

When Clay and the others came back to camp, it was to find Cougar laughing his ass off, and Jensen looking torn between joining in and running the fuck away.




In Honduras it was Jensen saving Cougar’s life.

He got another black eye for being so fucking stupid, but Cougar popped three knuckles doing so.

For some reason Jensen found that really fucking funny.

Cougar went back to scowling at him.




They were actually on leave for once, and like a puppy without an owner, Jensen had followed Cougar down to Mexico.

It occurred to Cougar thirty or forty times between leaving and arriving that he could just turn around and tell Jensen to fuck off.

He never quite managed.

Cougar took him to a bar in his city, and Jensen stood out like every other American tourist who came looking for a good time. Bright blonde hair and loud, obnoxious shirts. He talked too much, laughed too much and drank too much, wasted before midnight.

Cougar took him home and let him curl up behind him in bed.




Jensen hung-over was Hell on fucking Earth.




That didn’t stop Cougar taking him out again.




After the third night, Cougar knew he wasn’t being paranoid.

Jensen attracted a lot of attention, and he thrived under it. Cougar let him, stayed quiet while he charmed the women and played pool with the men. He watched the people who watched Jensen, and he didn’t like what he saw.

The guy was a Roque. Big, mean, and he looked at Jensen like he was prey.

Jensen, being Jensen, didn’t have a fucking clue.




On the forth night, Cougar’s target made his move. He bought Jensen a beer and moved into his space. Jensen just laughed, high on the thrill of living his own rules and genuinely enjoying Cougar’s company. Fuck knew why. When Jensen introduced the guy to Cougar, Cougar didn’t hear his name, only saw the threat.

He waited until Jensen went to the can, dragged the guy out into the street, and broke every bone in his face.

Cougar wasn’t sure if he was vindicated or just plain nauseated when he found the GHB and the condom in his pocket.




By the time he got Jensen home, the kid was as high as a kite and helpless as a fucking kitten.

Cougar stuffed him under the blankets and spent the night staring at the wall.

There was another black mark on his perfect fucking record.




When Cougar called Clay and told him what nearly happened, Clay, like the manipulative asshole that he was, said: “If you can’t handle it, send him to Pooch.”

Like Jensen was the homeless fucking puppy Cougar sometimes thought of him as.

When Jensen stumbled out of the shower, Cougar considered it for about five seconds.

Jensen was a pain in the ass, and Cougar still fucking hated him, but the goddamn kid was his.

When he thought about what could have happened – whether the asshole Cougar had dealt with would have been satisfied with a fuck, or if the unit would have been left one man down – Cougar felt sick.

He wanted to beat some sense into Jensen, though fuck knew that didn’t seem to work.

He wanted Jensen in his bed, curled up against his back where he could keep a fucking eye on him.

He wanted to kill everyone who came within three feet of the kid.

How stupid would it have been? How much of a fucking waste; a special forces soldier with a genius IQ raped and murdered in a motherfucking alley, because despite every horrible thing Jensen had done and seen, he still looked for the good before he noticed the bad.




Jensen hung-over was Hell on fucking Earth.

Jensen hung-over from drugs was this giant, soft fucking kitten who was content to practically sit on Cougar’s lap and watch cartoons all day.

He was also a sneaky s.o.b.




Jensen had been sleeping on and off all day. His head lolled down to rest on Cougar’s shoulder somewhere between twelve hundred and one. Cougar didn’t shrug him off. Around two, he found himself carding his fingers through Jensen’s hair.

Around three, he realized Jensen had been awake for twenty minutes, and he hadn’t fucking noticed.

“It’s okay.” Jensen said when Cougar snatched his hand away, completely humiliated at being caught out. “I don’t mind. It’s nice.”

Cougar put his hand back on Jensen. He wanted to explore, and hated not knowing every inch of the kid as well as he knew everything else that was important to him.

After a while, he couldn’t help say: “You know what he wanted to do to you.”

That was going to be another horror for Cougar to live through at night.

Jensen leaned his head back against Cougar’s shoulder. “I know you stopped him.”

As if it were that simple.

Couger thought about it.

Maybe it was.




Cougar still hated Jensen, still thought he talked too much and laughed too loud. He still wanted to beat Jensen over the head with a heavy object whenever he did something stupid.

Now though, Jensen let him. Listened to him, if not all of the time. He talked for Cougar instead of at him; laughed with Cougar, though often at Cougar’s expense. And when Cougar found better things to do with Jensen’s mouth, he was cool with that too.

Cougar still hadn’t shot him; still hadn’t smothered him in his sleep.

He would. Someday. Probably.

Until then, Jensen was his.

His to hate. His to love.

Just motherfucking his.

This is a wonderfully written, different take on Cougar and how he and Jensen may have gotten together.
The relationship is different seeing that Cougar is still thinking in forms of hate but focusing on the "ownership"/possession.

"Jensen hung-over from drugs was this giant, soft fucking kitten who was content to practically sit on Cougar’s lap and watch cartoons all day.

He was also a sneaky s.o.b."

I may be smiling for the rest of the day.

Thank you. I've never seen them as a hearts and flowers kind of couple - they love fiercely, but they aren't very accustomed to saying so.

Glad you enjoyed, thank you :)

Just motherfucking his.

And as everyone knows you do not touch what is Cougars.

Love it! Especially Jensen talking to Cougar about eating brains. That sounds like a very Jensen argument to make.

Hell no! Hand's off Cougar's Jensen :D

Thanks so much :)

This was just what the doctor ordered--a delight!

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.

Roque, who self-righteously clung to his title as Unit Asshole, shot Cougar the odd dark glare when no one was looking. Cougar didn’t know if it was because he’d fallen under the kid’s spell, or he resented the fact that Cougar had usurped his throne.

I almost choked on my carrot cake at this part. I can just see Roque being all grumpy and wondering, kinda in reverse of Snow White's stepmother, if he was still the grumpiest in all the land.

All through this I kept thinking of that saying 'it's a thin line between love and hate.'

Great fic that illustrates that not all relationships start out with flowers and chocolate, especially not for these guys.

Rogue has a chart he fills out every night, just to make sure he stays ahead in the rankings. :D

No flowers and chocolates for these guys, not at all.

Thank you :D

this. is. perfect.
(this is me loving every minute of reading this. more things like this one, pretty please?^^ )

Thank you so much.

More will follow :D

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Cougar has always stuck me as a pretty dark guy, by nurture, if not by nature. He's a pessimist, poor guy.

Thrilled you enjoyed it, thank you.

So, I'm not the only one who thinks Jensen is both funny and annoying at the same time.

Jensen IS a puppy. Cute and adorable, but you need so. much. patience. to handle him.

:)

This just cured my headache. Thank you! It's awesome!

Oh wonderful! I am glad it helped! Thanks :D

This was frakking awesome.

Honestly, I think my favorite part was the way they gave Jensen a black eye when he got hurt - this is just one of those details that rings so true to the characters. I also loved Cougar's emotional ambiguity - strong emotions are rarely pure, and I think that would be moreso with someone like Cougar. Hell, after the things he's seen, I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't tell a positive emotion from a hole in the ground.

So all in all, this was awesome, and I want more. :D

They are a violent bunch, and it is pretty much their default setting for everything.

I think you've nailed Cougar right on the head. It's not that he doesn't know how to love, it's just he has NO idea what it looks like, or how to deal with it. Poor boy is conflicted.

Thanks so much :)

awwww.i'd feel sorry for him but Jensen really is just so easy to pick on. thank god Cougar has his back

He is, poor boy, but he does have his Cougar.

Thanks for reading :)

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If he is a kitten, he's a really angry kitten with Wolverine like claws :D

Thanks so much for reading. I am so glad you liked it.

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