The Night The Incubus Came For A Spell
Fandom: The Losers
Warnings: graphic gay sex
Author: Lily Zen
Notes: I was originally going to suggest this as my Halloween prompt on the livejournal comm losers_fic, but then I got greedy and decided to write it myself. I hope you like it. Jensen gets possessed by an incubus. There's a lot of debate on incubus lore across the world, but the general idea is that incubi feed off of mortals' energy through sex. Kind of like a vampire. Except sexier because you don't have to bleed, but you can if you want to. My version of the incubus doesn't have its own physical form though, so it's like a ghost-demon. If you're into listening to music or having a soundtrack while you read, I would recommend "You can leave your hat on" by Joe Cocker, or "This is hardcore" by Pulp.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Spanish translations provided by Babel Fish, what little I remember from high school, and SpanishDict.
All Soul's Day.
Dia de los Muertos.
Whatever you call it, everyone seems to agree on one point: on that day, the veil between this world and the next, the realm of the dead, is at its thinnest. Sometimes things slip from their realm into ours and vice versa. It's rare, but not impossible.
So why is everybody so surprised when Jensen gets possessed?
It's October 31st and instead of taking his niece out trick-or-treating—like he promised; man, was Beth pissed—Jensen was running like a gazelle across the rooftop of a four-story office building in good ol' Mexico. Okay, so his gazelle impersonation was a little lack-luster, that's no reason for the powers that be to give him a dose of instant-karma. He was sneaking down to the server room via rope, pulley, and skylight, listening to the rest of the team's staccato voices over his earpiece. "I'm in," he whispered as he touched ground and looked around for a team of guys ready and waiting to take him out.
Jake Jensen was nothing if not a fast learner.
However, unlike the Port, there isn't anyone lying in wait. This wasn't a trap. Some part of Jensen relaxed as he unclipped himself and dove into the rows of metal lockers that held computer upon computer. The room was dark so what little light there was seemed to be made up of dim greens and blues from various little slots on the towers. It was appropriately eerie, Jensen thought to himself as he pulled out his laptop from the bag he had strapped to his back and plugged into the server.
It was like it always was when Jensen touched a computer, beginning with him sweet-talking the system into spreading her legs for his hella good hacker skills and ending with him completely absorbed in the task. Not so much though that he didn't feel the room's sudden drop in temperature or wonder what that creaking noise might have been. It didn't sound like a person—probably just the wind or maybe there was a fan in here. He disregarded it as unimportant and went back to his technological seduction.
Over the comms he heard Pooch groaning, "not again," as Jensen got increasingly lewd like a drunkard at a Halloween party trying to pick up chicks, which was where he should have been, thank you very much, hitting on slutty, drunk girls. Fucking Clay and his goddamn vendetta. Most of the time, Jensen was behind him one hundred percent, but it pissed him off that he couldn't get off for the one holiday he really wanted to celebrate.
Jensen stiffened as he got that weird feeling that said he was being watched, but when he looked around surreptitiously, there was nothing there. His back wedged up against one of the metal lockers, Jensen set aside his laptop and started going for his gun. A light flickered around the corner from his row, and the hacker began creeping toward it, moving slowly and silently. He was ready to round the corner and yell 'boo,' but several things happened before he could.
One, the light flickered and grew brighter. Two, the room got even colder and Jensen felt goosebumps break out on his skin. Three, he started jerking and flapping about, dropping his gun and falling to the ground bonelessly like he was having a seizure. His first thought was that he was being electrocuted. Jensen might have even cried out, but if he did, he can't remember because the next thing that occurred was that unconsciousness grabbed him and pulled him under.
"Mi amigo, despierte," Cougar stated once again as he laid eyes on Jensen's unnaturally still form. The tech was so animated all of the time that it seemed wrong to him that Jensen should lay there looking not unlike a corpse.
When they had heard the scream over the comms—a gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, imminent-death kind of wail—the team had scrambled to go in after Jensen. Well, except Cougar, who'd had to remain in position to provide back-up, cursing himself the whole fucking time and promising retribution against whomever had touched his blonde friend. Pooch had also remained in position with the get-away vehicle. So really it was Clay and Aisha who went in after Jensen, running across the rooftop, guns blazing, ready to kill somebody, anybody.
It was also the two of them who carried Jensen out of the building. Aisha had his backpack slung over her shoulders, guns out to provide cover, while Clay had his hands busy holding Jensen over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Cougar had seen it all very clearly through the scope on his rifle.
Thus had begun the longest night of Cougar's life.
There were no visible injuries on his friend, no signs of trauma except for that scream and his stubborn unconsciousness. The only thing they could do was wait for him to wake up and find out what the hell happened. So Cougar kept watch, stubbornly refusing to share the duty, and sending the others away with curt words and forceful glares. He thought Jensen would laugh if he could see how worried they were, how much they cared; he would laugh himself stupid, crack a joke, and promptly put them all back in their places by doing something wonderfully Jensen-like.
Except he couldn't because that híbrido refused to wake up.
Like he heard Cougar's disparaging thoughts, Jensen began to twitch in the first signs of wakefulness and reached up to rub his eyes. Then they popped open very wide, seemingly startled. "Your glasses are on the table," Cougar stated quietly, relief making his tone gentler than he had intended it to be. Jensen ignored him in favor of looking at his own arm in something like awe. Then he looked around the room with a curious frown on his face, squinting slightly.
It was three in the morning, the witching hour, though neither man knew or believed in such superstitions.
Cougar just grabbed the wire-rimmed oculars himself then and held them out to Jensen. "Here," he said and smiled when the hacker grabbed them hesitantly and slid them on his head with deliberate slowness. That time when he looked around, his lips curled upward in a grin of satisfaction. Then those cool, blue eyes looked up at him, and Cougar felt his breath freeze in his lungs because the emotion in them was so alien to him.
He shook his head to clear it of such superstitious thoughts and asked, "What happened?" Jensen's head tilted to the side like a curious little bird and he calmly repeated Cougar's words. Then he shrugged. The sniper wondered at Jensen's odd silence and cursed, getting up to find a penlight. Shining the beam into the hacker's eyes, Cougar was relieved to see that the pupils contracted and expanded normally. However, there was still something extremely off about Jensen's behavior. He decided to get Clay. Maybe the other man would have a better idea of what was going on.
As he rose to a standing position and turned to head towards the door, Jensen's arm shot out and lightly touched his wrist. Cougar froze and turned back, using his infamous poker face to keep the fact that his pulse had just sped up at the innocuous touch hidden. Jensen looked up at him and smiled a slow, knowing grin anyway, which further convinced Cougar that there was something wrong here. Jensen had never, ever shown any hint that he knew what was going on in Cougar's traitorous thoughts. It was strange, really. In most ways, Jensen was the person in the world who knew Cougar the best, could read his silences and glances like a whole other language he was fluent in, all of them except for the ones that related to himself. It was a curious blind spot in an otherwise too smart man.
Cougar found himself swallowing convulsively as he watched raptly while Jensen trailed the fingers down his bare chest, lightly stirring the scant hair there. They'd cut Jensen's clothes off when he was unconscious to check for injuries and left him in nothing but his boxers. To say that it was distracting would be an understatement. The blonde nodded to himself as though he'd confirmed something after. "You want this body," he stated aloud, blue eyes rapidly darkening, "Ha sido un rato largo puesto que he tenido un vaquero." It's been a long time since I've had a cowboy.
The words were a quiet murmur almost as though Jensen meant to say them to himself, but the fact that he'd used Spanish was enough to clue Cougar in that he wanted the sniper to understand so that he could track his reaction through his lashes. The fact that they'd made him stiffen a little in his pants was proof enough that Cougar wasn't going to exactly beat Jensen off with a stick for hitting on him. Sadly, because of that Cougar failed to note that Jensen, whose Spanish was pretty awful at best, had just spoken the most complex sentence Cougar had ever heard from him. That and his accent, which was quite eloquent with an inflection that Cougar had never heard before, should have been a dead give-away that he wasn't dealing with Jensen anymore.
The blonde distracted him before he could even begin to think those things by rising up on his knees on the mattress and shuffling forward. Those darkened blue eyes flicked down to Cougar's mouth, and he licked his lips in response. "Tengo gusto de montar," Jensen admitted with a smirk. I like to ride. A flash of lust suffocated Cougar for an instant until he was nothing but the rush of his own blood in his ears, and then Jensen captured his lips with his own fuller ones. They were surprisingly soft and pillowy, and the hacker wielded them like a weapon, knocking down every one of Cougar's wary defenses with the simple caress of mouth on mouth.
"Usted tiene gusto de eso?" Jensen breathed between one kiss and the next. Would you like that?
The only response Cougar could make was a helpless groan suffused with lust and longing that had been ruthlessly suppressed. The hacker seemed to like that if the way his arm wrapped around the sniper's lean waist and tugged him closer was any indication. Jensen tucked his head against the other man's shoulder, hot, moist breath fanning over Cougar's skin and making him shiver. Firm, open-mouthed kisses were delivered unto the flesh there, interspersed with flicks of tongue and gentle suction. Cougar clutched Jensen's bare shoulder with one hand, little noises of animal pleasure escaping him despite his own resolve to say nothing, and the other cradled the back of the man's head, keeping him from pulling away.
Clever fingers were unbuttoning his shirt, bearing tanned, golden skin that soon found itself having its sensitive spots hunted down and mapped out with a skill and precision that normally required a computer be present in the room. Jensen chuckled. "I thought so," he purred absentmindedly and shoved Cougar's shirt down his arms. The fabric bunched and stuttered to a halt at his elbows, which Jensen didn't seem to notice or care about. He was too busy exploring all that new territory with his mouth, feeding off the sounds of want that fell unbidden from the sniper's lips.
Fingers curled into his waistband as the blonde pulled back. "Come here," Jensen's voice was husky and deeper than usual, "Drop your shirt. Take off your boots. Get on the bed. You can leave your hat on…for now." Cougar had never heard Jensen sound that direct and serious before. What a fucking turn-on. His lust made him obey without question, without comment.
As he slid onto the bed in nothing but his threadbare jeans and his old leather hat, Cougar found himself wondering at his own non-resistance. He had elected to keep his more inappropriate feelings for the team's technical analyst to himself for a few different reasons, one being that they worked together. Then it was because he didn't want to risk their friendship. Don't Ask Don't Tell. The fact that he was fucked up hijo de puta. Sexual orientation, meaning that he wasn't sure where Jensen landed on the Kinsey spectrum, pink Petunias t-shirt aside.
One would think that Bolivia would have changed at least some of that, but it hadn't. Instead it had just given Cougar more reasons, more excuses for keeping his desire to himself. Better to just be the friend, the reliable protector. Perhaps he'd simply become too comfortable looking through the scope of a rifle, keeping his distance from living; another cop-out on the long list of excuses.
However, it was like his desire, his need had grown into a sentient thing of its own; a beast that roared and purred at every caress, and clawed him up from the inside out if Cougar even thought of denying its release. It wanted and so it would have. Jensen's mouth recaptured his and the sniper parted his lips without a second of hesitation. The dueling tango of tongues in his mouth and then in Jensen's, the strike, parry, retreat of the kiss, made him pull the younger man closer, hands mapping out all of the places his eyes had always lingered.
Jensen released a pleased sound into Cougar's mouth and rubbed his cloth-covered erection against the other man's thigh, fingers practically tripping over each other to undo Cougar's belt—the gun in its holster was eyed with veiled curiosity, then Jensen made a move to throw it. Cougar stopped him, that niggling unease breaking through the haze of lust. The tech would know better than to throw away a weapon, especially a gun. It could discharge on its own, someone could get hurt. The sniper carefully set the holstered fire arm on the bedside table and was about to give Jensen a good old what-for tongue lashing when the blonde, with a nonchalant shrug and a smile of apology, palmed the bulge in Cougar's jeans.
Just like that, he forgot everything he'd wanted to say and even his entire train of thought. The beast that was lust took over every one of his senses again, skin hot and tingly with it, lungs short of breath, heart pounding…
The sniper shuddered as he felt the button on his jeans pop open and the slow drag of the zipper followed right after. A tongue traced a warm, wet path down his chest, made a slight detour to play with his nipples (which Cougar was quite fond of and made a cross noise when Jensen moved on too soon from), and ended with a thick circle around his navel. Blue eyes stared up at him as the blonde carefully eased down the open jeans and boxers as a single movement, which Cougar assisted by coming up on his knees for. His cock sprang free, jutting proudly upwards towards his belly, flushed red underneath the skin. He wasn't the hugest guy on the planet, but he was thick and when Jensen circled his girth and gave him a wicked smile, he knew that the other man thought that was just fine too.
A drawn-out stroke of his length brought a small groan from Cougar and under his breath he muttered, "Dios, acaba de ponerme por favor de mi miseria. Jake, you fucking cock-tease." God, please just put me out of my misery.
Jake just chuckled. He was still chuckling when he popped the head of Cougar's dick in his mouth and began working his way down. The vibrations made the Latino rest the palms of his hands on Jensen's shoulders as his knees developed a sudden case of jelly syndrome. Jensen stopped chuckling, though Cougar could tell from the slight upward curve of his lips around his cock that his amusement hadn't abated in the least. Sweet hot, wet suction enveloped him as Jensen went down, down, down, not stopping until his lips touched the base of his erection. Then he backed off and began the process all over again while Cougar remembered to breathe.
When the sniper was trembling and on the verge of ending far too early, Jensen backed off and indicated with a firm push of his hands that he wanted Cougar to lie down. "Quite su sombrero también. Quiero ver sus ojos." Take off your hat too. I want to see your eyes. There was only one option when faced with such a request in that husky, lust-laden voice, and that was to obey. So Cougar pulled off his hat and dropped it on top of the gun. For an instant he was distracted from the overwhelming fog of lust at the sight of the weapon once more, reminded that something about Jensen was off. Then Jensen's lips were on his and he forgot all about it again.
A slight shove and he ended up with his bare ass on the bed, and Jensen was finishing his work stripping his jeans the rest of the way off his body. As he did so, Carlos traced muscles and skin that he'd wanted to touch for so long, fulfilling years worth of repression, committing every sensation to memory with a focus usually only reserved for making that perfect shot. The paler man released a soft sound of pleasure and chastely kissed his hip bone as he threw the tangled clothing across the room. Then he paused, hovering over Cougar with an expression of utmost consternation on his face.
His eyes flicked back and forth and he appeared almost to be having a conversation with himself. Then in a graceful lunge, Jensen stretched out over the other man and opened the drawer of the nightstand. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant with a saucy smile that Cougar wanted to taste. So he did, reaching up and cupping that pale face in his hands, laying lips over his friend's like he was going to devour him from the mouth down, crawl inside him through the kiss. Jensen purred—he felt the rumble in the chest against his own, and that was the only word he could come up with to describe it—and that kiss seemed to go on forever until they were both short of breath despite the fact that they were breathing through their noses.
The blonde pulled away finally with a sharp grin, pinched Cougar's nipple and sat up before the sniper could do anything besides gasp. Jensen stood and stared at Cougar intently as he lowered his boxers to the ground. The Latino licked his lips subconsciously as he eyed the huge member lying in a nest of darker curls and his balls drawn up tight beneath them. It was a lovely sight, and he ran a hand up Jensen's flank, letting his eyes show exactly what he'd been thinking. The other man smiled, grabbed his hand and kissed his calloused palm.
A long, muscled leg was slung over his hips as Jensen slid back onto the bed. He uncapped the lube and poured some of the thick, clear substance onto his fingers. Cougar wordlessly took the bottle from Jensen as the blonde reached behind himself and started stretching his own hole. His eyelashes fluttered down behind the lenses of his glasses and his hips moved spasmodically in response to the stimulation. The Latino suddenly remembered the lubricant and he slicked his cock up, let himself stroke it slower than he usually liked as he watched Jensen finger-fucking his own ass.
Jensen opened his eyes and watched the man beneath him touch himself. Fuck, that was hot. Cougar was beginning to think that they should have done this a long time ago if the look on Jensen's face was any indication. Gummy fingers stilled the hand on his dick. "Estoy listo, so fuck me." I'm ready. The hacker rose up and the two of them worked together to position Cougar's length at his entrance, then the blonde slid down slowly, a long moan being pulled out of him as he was stretched almost painfully—not quite enough prep—and filled up.
When he was all the way in, Jensen made a satisfied sound and began immediately backing off, not giving himself any time to pause and adjust. Cougar's concern for his safety was left by the wayside as the blonde set up a quick, deep rhythm. Feet planted on the mattress, Cougar fought to match the pace, at a slight disadvantage due to poor leverage. Jensen did most of the work, staying true to his earlier words and riding him like a goddamn pony. 'Cowboy, my ass,' Cougar thought, 'I'm totally the horse.' And at that moment, he totally didn't mind being ridden hard and put away wet.
The hacker was making noise—who could say they were surprised—deep moans and short grunts at the end of each thrust, working the other man's cock in his ass like it was going out of style. What was surprising was the fact that Cougar was making noise. A lot of it. He was babbling in Spanish about how he loved being inside of Jensen, how tight his hole was, how good he felt, hands clutching Jensen's hips and ass as the other moved over him.
It might have been that which alerted the rest of the team that Jensen was up. Or maybe they were just alarmed by the increasingly voluminous Spanish leaking through the thin walls. Whatever it was, when Pooch came through the door, he was completely unprepared for what he caught sight of.
"Oh god!" the team's designated driver shouted and his hands flew up to cover his eyes. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He yelled, spun, crashed into the door jamb on his way out, and finally slammed the door behind him. "I didn't know—didn't realize—" Pooch was babbling loudly from the other side of the door, voice rapidly fading away.
Neither man noticed, at least not enough to hesitate or become embarrassed. Cougar was too caught up in the rising tide of orgasm, and Jensen was focused intently on something only he could see, the snap of his hips becoming increasingly frantic. Desperate, even.
He shouted Jensen's name as he came, neck taut, back arching, fucking coming and coming in endless loops of rapture that stole all rational thought. It was the best, the most intense feeling he'd ever had in his life, and an unidentifiable feeling came along with it.
It was like someone had pulled the stopper on a drain that had been closed for too long, and all the water—the backed up thoughts and feelings inside him-was rushing down it, out of him, in a wave of release so magical it made Cougar's eyes actually begin to tear up. Jensen had a look on his face that was soft and full of wonder and gratitude. He was practically glowing with it, and when it finally stopped after an indeterminate amount of time, and Cougar slumped onto the mattress bonelessly, the other man kissed a line down his jaw to his lips and underneath his chin.
Jensen sat up and Cougar's flaccid length slipped out of him. The blonde stood and picked up something off the floor—it was Jensen's t-shirt, which they'd cut up to get off of him and then left lying on the ground—and started cleaning himself with efficient movements. Cougar couldn't bring himself to move, watching through half-lidded eyes as exhaustion set in and tried to drag him down to slumber.
He didn't realize he'd closed his eyes until he felt the gentle touch of cotton on his sensitized penis, making him twitch and open his eyes to meet the blue ones. Jensen was smiling, a little half-smile that Cougar had never seen on him before. The other man climbed back up onto the bed, shoving the sniper over until he touched the wall. The bed was really too small for the two of them to lie comfortably together, and so Jensen pressed up close against him on his side, head on his shoulder, every part of him lined up against Cougar's body.
It took him a minute to figure out what he was feeling and when he did, his eyes popped open in shock, lethargy temporarily forgotten.
Jensen was still hard.
"Mi amigo, lo siento. I didn't realize that you hadn't…" Cougar spilled out before he could edit his thoughts into some semblance of order.
Jensen just shrugged and laughed a little. "You didn't think I was done with you yet, did you?"
"I—um…" And there his English failed him. Possibly his brain altogether as he couldn't for the life of him string together a sentence in Spanish either.
Jensen was shaking with laughter next him, trailing one hand over his chest and down his stomach, tracing his muscles. He touched Cougar's limp length and the Latino man arched, too sensitive after such an intense climax. "Jensen," he said, and then when the blonde curled his hand around him, "Jake, I can't. Not so soon."
Blue eyes locked on his and Jake whispered in his ear, "Jake no está a casa ahora." Jake isn't home right now. Before Cougar could figure out what that meant—and he really was going to—Jensen nibbled on his ear lobe and Cougar felt the desire rear up in him again. Jacked up too high too fast, and some part of him knew it wasn't right or natural the way he was suddenly hard again and ready for more, more, more. He hissed as Jensen stroked him and rolled his hips into the movement.
"Fuck," he panted as he felt the overwhelming pull of promised ecstasy once again.
"Yes," Jensen hissed, "Voy a golpear su pequeño asno apretado." I'm going to pound your tight, little ass. The hacker nipped at his collarbone and Cougar's ticklish ribs. "Y usted va a amarlo. Usted me pedirá más." And you're going to love it. You'll beg me for more.
Frankly, Cougar was already loving it. He didn't think it could get much hotter or better. Then Jensen roughly patted down the mussed blankets until he found the lubricant and slid between Cougar's legs in a smooth, oily movement. He flicked open the bottle one-handed and Cougar bit his lip at the small popping sound and the haze of lust such a small thing could induce in him.
A slick finger spread the thick substance around his entrance and tested the hole several times before finding its way in. Cougar made a small noise at the alien presence—it had been a long, long time since he'd done this—and canted his hips up to make things a bit easier on himself. Jensen worked him with that single finger and when the Latino was shifting restlessly, obviously ready for more, he added another. To distract him from the slight oddness of his stretching muscles, the hacker grabbed his cock with his free hand and stroked him in staccato bursts of sensation.
A touch on his prostate and he was arching, panting, crying out. Jensen leaned over him, releasing his cock and propping himself up with that freed hand on the mattress. He caught the cries with his mouth as he added another finger and used three to stretch him and fuck him until he was gasping and breathless with it.
"Jake," Cougar growled when he could summon the wherewithal to speak. He was going to say something, something important…
The blonde tilted his head to the side, indicating that he was listening. Those fingers continued to do wondrously evil things to him though, taking away his focus as they circled his prostate and slid across his inner walls. "Ah!" Cougar yelled, and Jensen grinned again, nibbling on one of the Latino's nipples absently.
Then it stopped and he was able to breathe again, his muscles relaxing against the mattress. Cougar watched Jensen glide more lubricant on his length—you can never have too much lube—feeling lazy and anticipatory all at once. He tensed as the head of the hacker's cock rested against his hole, fighting the invasion instinctively.
Jensen whispered, "Relájese, vaquero," and stroked the soft skin where Cougar's leg met his body until he felt the resistance give way to acceptance. As the tip slowly sank in, Carlos let out a low sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. The two inherently should have contradicted each other, but somehow it worked for him. The younger man moved in him slowly, carefully, perhaps realizing instinctively that he'd need some time to adjust.
In, wait for a moment until Cougar moved restlessly, and out. It began a pattern that was sure to drive him mad. Sometimes the blonde would deliberately alter the angle of penetration, hitting his prostate more directly, making Cougar struggle to keep himself in that exact position to make the most out of it. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. So was Jensen. He leaned up and licked a droplet off of the other man's chest, bit at his neck until he reminded himself that pale skin bruised easily.
Finally, Jensen seemed to break and the slow, torturous pace was lost. Cougar wrapped his legs around Jensen's waist and planted his elbows in the mattress to work himself on the other's cock, matching the need in the movements.
The hacker did something, changed his position ever so slightly, and suddenly the Latino was staring blindly, wide-eyed as thrust after thrust hit that spot inside him unerringly. His dick was bouncing against his stomach, trapped between them, leaking pre-cum like tears of frustration. And it was…so good…so fucking good…
Why hadn't he done this sooner?
Dios mio, Jensen could fuck.
Lightning burst across his mind again, making him shake, making everything white out for a moment. Amazing, a revelation.
Again, and…he was right there…
…good, so good. Almost…
Then the door was flying open again and Clay was yelling. "What the fuck is going on here? It's four in the fucking morning, Pooch is fucking insensible and—" Then he stopped everything and froze in place. Jensen was also frozen, staring at the older man with rage twisting his full lips into an expression that was a lot like hate. This was the second interruption to his feeding and he was more than tempted to rise up off the other man and snap the neck of the loud annoyance. Cougar was horny and embarrassed, but mostly horny and on the verge of coming.
His face was flushed, he was short of breath, and some distant part of his mind thanked god that he was smaller than Jensen because that meant his CO couldn't see his dick and right now that was pretty important to him. What he could see was bad enough.
But mostly he just wanted Clay to go the fuck away so he could keep going because he felt wonderful and he never wanted to stop fucking Jensen—er, getting fucked by…whatever, semantics.
Jensen twitched, looked down at Cougar with an expression of surprise, and then flicked his eyes over to the cheap plastic alarm clock. Sure enough, he watched the numbers flick from 3:59 to 4:00, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Jensen slumped uselessly against Cougar, and then came to with a jerk of his muscles, like he was being electrocuted.
Head flying up, glasses askew, the blonde hacker took in the fact that Cougar was naked, underneath him, and apparently his dick was currently inside of his friend, if what he could feel was telling him the truth. Then he turned and saw Clay standing there, jaw agape, in the doorway.
"Oh my god!" Jensen shouted, "What are you doing? What is going on? Did you fucking GHB me or something? Please tell me I am hallucinating. What the fuck, Clay? Who just stands there? We're naked! I'm naked! Jesus, I'm fucking naked!"
Cougar pulled the pillow over his head, blocking out everything. The berserker urge to fuck, fuck, fuck left him in a hurry (though his erection and the vestiges of desire remained). Jensen was freaking out, still buried inside him, Clay might be going into cardiac arrest. Pooch was somewhere. Aisha was…who the fuck cared, that bitch would know better than to waltz in there.
"Fuck! Get the fuck out!" Jensen ended his rant by yanking the pillow off of Cougar's face and whipping it at Clay. It hit their former CO in the face and seemed to startle him out of his shock. He shook himself like a dog shaking off water and then retreated through the door, muttering, "I don't want to know." The door was slammed closed, and that left Cougar and Jensen alone, tangled together intimately and Jensen with no memory of how it came to be.
They stared at one another, but Jensen was the first one to break the silence. "Dude, what happened? I—this—the last thing I remember is breaking into that building. I went to go check out a weird noise and then…I was here. What the fuck, man? I'm really confused and, not gonna lie, pretty freaked out. Also, my dick is in your ass, which is something I never thought would happen in a million years, not that I'm complaining but yeah…"
He was a good Christian, had been raised to believe in the power of el Diablo and saints and fucking miracles. Weird shit happened everywhere all the time with no visible explanation for it. People suddenly healed and came out of years-long comas, walked again after being paralyzed. His grandmother had always said she'd seen her mother on her wedding day even though the woman had been dead for fifteen years.
So he shrugged and said, "Possessed by un fantasma? I don't know what to say. You were up and talking and walking. You came onto me. I never would have…no sin su permiso." Not without your permission.
Jensen frowned, his skepticism clear and perfectly understandable. The techie was one who believed in the power of tangible things. Physical proof. But then…he knew that Cougar would never, ever lie to him and the other man wasn't the type to force someone—getting poon with little to no effort was like his super-power or some shit. Plus, there was the obvious point that it was his dick in Cougar's ass and not the other way around. Kind of hard to maneuver someone into this exact position if they're drugged up or unwilling.
And he wasn't!
Unwilling, that is.
Cougs was a hot dude. He had that whole badass Mexican cowboy thing going on, and his brooding silences (girls loved that, and it worked for Jensen too apparently), and he dressed well. Plus, it was nice how Cougar always looked after him in his own way, tried to keep him out of trouble and make sure he ate when he got absorbed in his work. He was a good friend…
"I know you wouldn't…" The rest of the sentence was left off, but Jensen didn't need to say the words. He knew Cougar could figure it out. "I don't get exactly how this…happened, but I…am not opposed." He raised his eyebrows, willing Cougar to get the message where Jensen was suddenly awkward and tongue-tied.
"Then…?" Cougar, hesitant and curious, shifted experimentally underneath him.
Jensen, surprised to find himself aroused still, moved in automatic reflex. "Yeah, 's good." His voice came out choked.
"Oh," another movement from the other man, "Good."
"Yeah," Jensen let himself pull back and thrust harder. "Good," he grunted.
"Hmm," Carlos hummed as, with clear heads, they began the dance all over again. Really, for the first time.
Though Cougar would never forget that strange Halloween, he knew he'd just gotten something much better than one night with an incubus.