Everything Happens to Jensen

A/N: WARNING! If you don't have a strong stomach, DON'T READ THIS. In keeping with my other stories, it's funny and yes, Jensen and Cougar have a thing. BUT this is also the most disgusting story I ever posted for public consumption. And not disgusting in a sexy way, which might have redeemed it a little. Why, then, did I post it? My friend Makia triple-dog-dared me, that's why. At this time of year, you can't back out of a triple-dog-dare.

P.S. For those of you who are wondering when I'm going to get off the pot and REALLY get Cougar and Jensen together, I am waiting for Makia to get through with NaNoWrimo. She will be making the "lemonade", since I have not seen nearly enough m/m porn to write anything believable.


"Why are you sitting like that, Jensen?" Pooch asked one morning while the Losers were at breakfast. "Someone working you too hard?"

"Shut up, Pooch! I have a fucking boil! It's huge." Jensen listed to starboard on his chair and winced. "It's half my ass!"

"I love this conversation already" Clay groaned. "Do we have to do this at chow time, boys?"

"I'm not doing anything!" Jensen protested. "Except trying to avoid inflicting more agony on myself! Ooww!"

"How big is it for real?" Pooch asked.

"Shut the fuck up. Now." Roque growled from the end of the table.

"I told you!" Jensen looked pitiful. "It's half my ass! One whole cheek."

"We don't want to spend our meal talking about your ass, soldier." Clay said sternly.

"Seriously" Roque agreed.

"But it huuurrts!" the tech pouted. "I probably have butt cancer or something."

"I wish."

"Roque" Clay held up a hand. To Jensen he said, "We'll deal with it later. Until then, no more discussion. That's an order."

"Why don't you just go in the bathroom and pop it?" Pooch asked.

"Goddamn it, Pooch! What part of order don't you understand?"

"I tried. It won't."

Roque cursed and whipped out one of his giant knives. Slamming it down on the table, he hissed, "Jensen, two words: SHUT…UP."

The hacker wisely fell silent and so did Pooch. Cougar was the only one undisturbed; he hadn't looked up from his Cheerios once during the entire exchange.

When breakfast was over Jensen, still wincing, got up to clear the table. He collected the bowls and utensils and limped over the kitchen sink to get a garbage bag.

"Is this going to impair your ability to work, Jensen?" Clay asked.

"Well" Jensen made a face as he leaned carefully against the sink. "I usually hack sitting down. In my underwear. For hours and hours."

"Right. Then let's get you taken care of. Drop trou, kid, and let's see what we're working with."

"Uh…in front of everyone, Clay? I dunno…I kind of feel a little shy…"

"Now, Corporal."

Jensen turned around and lowered his pants and boxers. Cougar, for once, was the first to speak. "Holy shit!"

"I know!" Jensen whimpered. "It's the fucking Matterhorn!"

"Cougar, get the first aid kit. And a lot of extra gloves. Roque, we may need to borrow one of your knives."

"Forget it! Ain't no way one of my blades is going anywhere near his ass."

"Aw, c'mon Roque! You know you want me!" Jensen grinned over his shoulder at the older man.

"Yeah. Wanna KILL you. Nice and slow. First, cut out your tongue so you shut up for once in your miserable life, then break your legs, then—"

"I always get him excited" Jensen grinned and then yowled, "OWW! Fuck, Cougs! What the hell was that for!"

The dark-eyed sniper only glared at the tech as he handed the medical kit to Clay. Everyone else tried not to notice that Jensen's un-blemished cheek was now sporting a bright red handprint. As for the blemished one, even Clay had to admit that Jensen had been right. It was a boil to end all boils: fully four inches in diameter and so livid red it was almost purple. Clay wondered how Jensen could even walk with it, let alone sit down. "Okay" he said as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "This is gonna be ugly. We need alcohol, swabs, ointment, and a whole lot of gauze. And a scalpel…which we don't seem to have in the kit. Does anyone have a knife with a small blade? Preferably NOT one you eat with?"

The Losers looked at Roque, who only crossed his arms and glowered right back. After a moment, Cougar produced a Swiss Army knife from his pocket.

"This will also require strength" Clay sized up his team and nodded to Roque. "Squeeze his ass."


"Squeeze it. If the infection isn't too deep, we may not have to cut him."

"This is so kinky!" Jensen mumbled.

"Shut up, Jensen!" said three voices at once.

"Hell no, I ain't squeezing his skinny cracker ass!"

"That's kind of racist, Roque."

"Shut up, pus bucket!"

"All of you need to grow the hell up" Clay shook his head in exasperation. "Cougs, you're the medic. I need you to help me."

Cougar cleared his throat and glanced at Pooch, who had turned a strange, ashen color, and then at Clay. Clay gazed unflinchingly back at him until Cougar reluctantly pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Roque, Pooch, hold his arms and try and stand clear. There may be some spatter."

Pooch swallowed hard, trying not to gag. "You sound like you've had experience with this stuff before, boss."

"I have. Only one thing causes a sore this bad—a spider bite."

"It was in the toilet!" moaned Jensen. "I didn't look before I sat down. I just thought I sat on something sharp!"

The Losers did not reply. All of them knew it was the sort of thing that would only happen to Jensen, because everything happened to Jensen. Roque and Pooch gripped the young tech by the arms while Clay handed the medical kit to Cougar and gently felt the wound as Jensen hissed in pain. There was a lot of heat in it; not a good sign.

"Okay, soldier, on three. One…two…three!" Clay pressed hard on the edges of the swelling. Jensen gave a muffled yelp. "Oh SHIT! That hurts!"

Clay swore softly. There was no movement of white under the inflamed skin, nor did the bite have a visible head. That meant the infection was deep in Jensen's tissues. They would have to cut. "All right, Cougar. I'm gonna need a small incision here." Clay pointed to the darkest part of the wound. "Can you do it?"

The sniper nodded slowly and took the knife, furiously willing his stomach to settle. Although he had had more than his share of thoughts about the young tech's ass, these were definitely NOT the circumstances he'd envisioned. He was a good medic, possessing a respectable amount of knowledge and gentle, steady hands (most of the time), but Cougar knew he would truly have to discipline himself to deliberately cut into Jensen's flesh. He took a deep breath and made a quick, neat slice in the area Clay had indicated. Blood flowed out immediately, so dark it was almost brown, and the room filled with a putrid stench. Pooch choked. "Oh CHRIST! WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Probably a friggin' recluse" Clay sighed as he pressed on the wound. "The venom rots your tissue." The blood flow increased and grew thicker as Pooch groaned, "It smells like a body that's been lying around in a hot, humid basement!"

Roque said nothing, but he watched the carving process with interest. Pooch found it extremely disturbing. Jensen, for his part, was doing his best to keep from squirming in pain. "Hey, Roque? Remember when you said you were gonna rip me a new one? I think I know what it feels like."

"Well, grit your teeth kid. It's not over yet. Again, on three…"

Jensen howled as a thick gush of dirty yellow-green goo spouted from his ass. Pooch gagged and squeezed his eyes shut. Cougar's lips drew back from his teeth in revulsion. Clay had warned them about spatter; when this was over, he would burn every single thing he was wearing right now. Clay looked at him and raised a brow. "You okay, Alvarez?

Cougar nodded. Clay swabbed the wound with alcohol, bringing a sob from Jensen. "This suuucks!"

"Almost over. We got a few more quarts to go yet."

"Do you have to sound so happy about it, Clay?"

Clay drained as much as he could from the wound, but the hardness of the tissue around the open area told him they would need a second incision. He nodded to Cougar, "Another one. About an inch to the right this time."

Jensen glanced over his shoulder. "Be gentle, Cougs."

Cougar cleaned the knife blade very slowly, until Clay snapped. "What are you waiting for, Cougar? Cut him."

The sniper shook his head to clear it and made the second incision as directed. There was another flood of foul-smelling gunk, but this time Cougar had the presence of mind to stand clear. Pooch, his eyes still closed, muttered, "Tell me there isn't maggots, because that sure as hell smells like maggots."

"No maggots. Just a whole lot of decomposed tissue" Clay cleaned and pressed gauze against the second cut.

"It would be a lot cleaner if there were maggots" Jensen volunteered in a watery voice. "Maggots eat necrotic flesh and pus and crap—"

Pooch dropped Jensen's arm and threw himself over the sink where he proceeded to lose his breakfast. Roque snickered because he was a cruel son of a bitch. Clay sighed. "Get over there and hold him, Cougs. I think we got it now."

Cougar did as he was told with alacrity. As he took Jensen's arm, the blond looked up at him and smiled a shaky smile. "Thanks, Cougs."

"Thank Clay" Cougar replied, giving Jensen's arm a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks, Clay."

"You're welcome, kid. Now, I'm gonna pack this with Neosporin and gauze. You'll need to change the dressing twice a day. Are your shots up to date?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I wish we had anti-venom, but since we don't, you keep the wound clean and tell me if you start running a fever or swell up anywhere else."

"That sounds so wrong."

"Shut up, Jensen."

Clay turned to Pooch, who was still hanging over the sink. He had turned the faucet on and was splashing water on his face. "Have a drink and then go outside and check on our transport. The fresh air will help."

Pooch did as he was told and staggered out. Clay put away the supplies then took the knife from Cougar and cleaned it again. When he tried to hand it back, the sniper shook his head. "Keep it. We might need it again."

Jensen stood up and made a face as he pulled up his boxes. "It feels like I'm wearing a diaper. This is gonna be thrills-a-minute, I can tell. Cougs? Dude, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna—"

Cougar didn't answer. Everything had gone black.

When he came to, he found himself lying on the kitchen floor with his head on Jensen's lap. The first thing he did was look around for his hat. It was on one of the kitchen chairs. Jensen was stroking his hair back from his face and peering worriedly down at him while Clay took his pulse. "There you are!" the CO sat back on his heels. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I don't know."

"It can't be the mess. You've patched us all up plenty of times when we were torn up and bloody, so what is it? Low blood sugar? Do you need to eat something?"

"No. Madre de Dios."

"Then what? I've never seen you faint before, not even in Bolivia" Clay's gaze was concerned as it rested on his sniper. "Is it PTSD?"

"It's my ugly ass, Colonel" Jensen sighed. "It strikes terror into the hearts of all that see it. That's why I have trouble getting dates."

I hate spiders" was all Cougar would say.

Jensen helped him sit up, and then helped him to his feet. "Wow, Cougs! Who woulda thunk it? It's actually kind of endearing to know you have a weakness."

"A weakness, yes" the sniper muttered. The faucet was still running. Cougar swiped some water onto his own face from it.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of" Clay said firmly, giving them a look that spoke volumes. He turned and left the kitchen.

Jensen's brow creased in puzzlement for a moment, then cleared. Grinning, he slung an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "You saved my ass, Cougs. Literally!"

Cougar snorted and leaned against the tech for a moment. "Shut up, amigo."