Book One: Paraíso

Fandom: Losers

Pairing: J/C

Rating: M

Warnings: guy on guy

Archive: Ask

Author: Lily Zen

Notes: Remember My Enemy, My Friend? Well, this is the story that little ditty got chopped from. Now it's an all-out AU instead of an Army-AU. It will be posted in multiple parts.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


When Cougar was a child and all anybody had ever called him was Carlos or Carlito, he would sit on his mama's lap late at night before bed and she would tell him stories about anything and everything under the sun. It was their ritual. Being the only boy in a family of five and the oldest to boot, Carlos had learned to be quiet and unassuming and rather independent early on. It was better than trying to compete with his boisterous sisters for attention. His reward for that was the time he spent listening to his mother's tales before bed. Sometimes she would brush his dark, thick hair as she spoke and he would fall asleep right there listening to fantastic tales of spirits and demons and the afterlife. His mama had learned from her mama to have a healthy respect and yes, even fear, for things you could not see, and she had passed it down to Cougar in the form of his religious upbringing and those unforgettable bedtime stories.

There was one particular story that Carlos recalled asking to hear again and again. It was the tale of the íncubo, the love demon. Now, one would think that would be a highly inappropriate tale for a seven year old, and it would have been had his mama been completely accurate. After all, incubi were sex demons, not love demons. However, she toned it down for a child in the way parents often do ("…and when a man and a woman love each other, they make a baby,"). The tale of how the íncubo took over a man's body and fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the village, even going so far as to fight her intended and make off with the girl, was his favorite. He loved hearing his mama describe the battle between the men and how the girl gradually began to love the demon back. She would always finish the story by pressing her lips to Carlos' forehead and whispering, "Mi Carlos, tu eres especial. Nunca olvide eso. Ahora va a dormir, mi hijo." My Carlos, you are special. Never forget that. Now go to sleep, my son.

It had never occurred to Carlos that perhaps the story was more than entertainment; that maybe it was a warning, that maybe it was true. He didn't understand until he hit puberty that maybe he really was special. Puberty, of course, brought with it the usual hormonal shifts and physical growth spurts. Carlos began to change a little later than the rest of his friends, staying relatively small and child-like until fourteen. That was a rough year. Carlos was tired all the time, ravenously hungry, and his temper was waspish.

Then at fifteen, he lost his virginity and all of those problems started to go away. He liked sex and apparently he was good at it, so Carlos made a point of engaging in the activity often and with as many different partners as possible. His sisters were appalled when they started hearing rumors about their brother's promiscuity, but his mama never said a word about it, reprimand or otherwise. His father merely handed him a box of condoms and ordered him to be safe.

Things proceeded to run smoothly for the next two years, and Carlos was still none the wiser about his dubious parentage. He had no idea that his sexual appetite was anything but normal, even when his friends admitted that they could hardly keep up with the way Carlos went through women, or rather girls at that time, and he never told them that in a pinch men would do as well. Then he became ill enough that he could do nothing but lie in bed for two whole weeks, and it seemed the longer he lay there, the weaker he got, but he persisted in waiting to get better, ignoring the warning signals his body was sending to him until late one night his mama came to his bedside.

She sat next to him and stroked his sweat-damp hair away from his forehead and told him the story of the íncubo all over again. It had been years since she had last sat with Carlos and told him bedtime stories. He had grown out of such habits around eleven or twelve, and he had almost forgotten about them altogether. Her quiet voice seemed to penetrate his fever-haze as she told him of the incubus who possessed a man and then decided he wanted a particular young woman, the most beautiful girl in the village, as his next meal. However, this girl was already promised to another, and so to eliminate the possible threat to his claim, the demon killed her betrothed and absconded with the young woman.

They traveled for many miles until the demon's hunger finally overcame his need to protect his food source, and he raped the virgin girl out in the open under the stars, over and over 'til she prayed she would die. This was not the romanticized tale he had heard in his childhood, but in his delirium Carlos was more fascinated with this version of events than he had ever been by the other. When the incubus had fed enough, he forced the girl to begin moving again and they headed towards the city where it would be easy to get lost in the crush of bodies. About a mile or so outside of the city limits, the incubus' driving need to feast took over again and the girl begged with tears running down her dirty face for it to end.

Then a miracle happened and the demon was forced out of the man's body, leaving him filled with terror and sorrow. He collapsed next to the girl when he realized what he had done under the influence of the incubus and he cried and prayed to god for forgiveness. The girl touched his hunched shoulders and he flinched away, but she persisted until he turned to look at her.

She told him it wasn't his fault, and he bit out a sharp laugh. After some time, the pair walked the rest of the way to the city where the man paid for a room at a motel. They both had hot showers and a meal and tried not to think about what had happened to them. No one would believe such a fantastic tale. It wasn't until late into the next morning that the man said she could be with child. When she agreed that it was entirely possible, the man offered to marry her. She accepted, and they both agreed that they could not return to the village they had been born and raised in. The man's reputation was ruined, as was hers, and if he returned, he would be prosecuted for a murder which he did not really commit.

So they crossed the border together and began their lives in New Mexico, and nine months after the incubus attack, a little boy was born, a boy they named Carlos.

"We did not know that you would be so very incubus. We thought 'maybe,' but we hoped that you would not have to bear such a burden. However, the reason I tell you this, Carlos, is because the longer you languish in your sickbed, the closer you will come to death. Incubo, even half-incubo, I suspect, require regular feedings for energy. I think that it will also help you to heal. We have been trying to treat you like a human, with chicken soup and cold medicine, but you are not fully human. Now get up and go find someone to feed on. You must be careful though—I think you know this instinctively, but with repeated feedings too close together, you could kill your partner. I was very weak for awhile after the attack. It's better to continue on as you have. People may think you are promiscuous, but this is preferable to dead bodies appearing."

So Carlos, at a mere seventeen years old, followed his mother's advice and crawled out of his bed to go have sex. It was strange advice, but it worked. After that, he spent much of his free time learning about incubi and discovering more about himself in the process and while it aggravated him that his father was only his father in the most technical of senses, he couldn't bring himself to view the man with anything but love. For better or worse, despite the lies and the secrets, those were his parents, incubus heritage be damned.

"Do you love Father?" he recalled asking out of the blue approximately two months after the illness.

His mother had smiled out the kitchen window where she was kneading dough on the counter, her eyes seeking and immediately finding her husband out in the garden. "Yes," she responded, "Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. I think it was when I saw him with you." Her hands pinched and pulled the dough into rough asymmetrical shapes. "You were starting to smile then and he was holding you, and you put your hands on his cheeks with the sweetest grin. You have the same smile, you know. Anyway, your father laughed and you started laughing and it was the nicest thing I had seen in a long time. My heart felt like it had grown wings, and I knew we would be fine."

Part One

It was warm in the nightclub, not only from the tightly packed throng of writhing, eager bodies and the smoke and lights, nor the gargantuan amount of electronic equipment. The moist heat drifted in from the club doors, forcing the air conditioning to fight an uphill battle to cool the building. Mazatlan itself pulsed with heat and hormones, driving Spring Breakers to be indiscreet and unruly.

It was a good night to be an incubus.

Carlos, or rather the man they called Cougar those days, slinked from one end of the bar to the other, filling drink orders and flirting, taking minute sips of energy from hot, horny co-eds through casual touches that had their hearts leaping into their throats and lit a flame between their toned thighs like a lover had just given them a tentative first lick over their slippery quims. He fed from their half-lidded eyes, laden with glitter and eyeliner, and their drunken thoughts, and wondered to himself if it would ever be enough; if it could ever be enough. To date, he had never quite managed to fill the gaping chasm in himself that cried out for more—more touches, more kisses, more love—and to be frank, he was afraid to try. He wanted his lovers to wake with memories of passion and pleasure, tired and sated from an evening with him; he wanted them to wake, not die in his hands.

Mazatlan was proving to be a good place for his insatiable appetite. It was a popular vacation destination, especially for college students, and with an ever-changing rotation of people, Cougar had a variety of choices for whom to while away an evening with. He enjoyed his job tending bar and laying on the beach in the sunshine. Liked the food (both kinds) and the people (even those he didn't sleep with, like his neighbor Senora Miguela, an eccentric who was fond of making picture frames from collected materials and regularly stopped by with home-cooked dishes she had made too much of) and the aura of happiness that seemed to come from the land itself. Even though he was far from home, he felt at home.

So, more than in his element that night, Cougar attended to the needs of college students and began his process of selecting one who appeared to have an over-abundance of energy to zero in on for the night. First he examined the ones that obviously appreciated his appearance. He knew he looked good that night, even for him. His skin was golden from having spent yesterday on the beach, sitting in a chair on the pier, catching fish and drinking beer; his long, dark hair was pulled back from his face, secured in a low ponytail with a battered leather cowboy hat perched atop his head. Why the hat? He didn't know. Maybe as some reminder of his roots in the southwest. His t-shirt was a little tighter than it ought to have been, showing off lithe, ropy muscles, and his jeans clung in all the right places, accented with the masculine pieces of jewelry he preferred. He looked swarthy and mysterious and very male, despite what features some might call androgynous.

"Hola," he heard as he identified movement on his periphery. A young man had muscled his way to the bar, inserting himself in a six inch gap that widened as the people on either side moved to make room for him. "Dos tequilas, por favor." He was good looking in the way that some white men were with defined cheekbones and a strong jaw, the fullness of his lips adding a touch of softness to an otherwise angular face, and his glasses distracted from his muscular frame. His shockingly blonde hair was cut short and arced in messy spikes. Cougar grabbed two shot glasses and poured quickly, placing two lime slices on a napkin as well, and just as he was setting them down a young woman appeared next to him.

"Jake!" she cried and threaded an arm through the young man's. Cougar's eyes flicked to her, taking in her short, burgundy hair and tan skin. Long limbs, decent rack, scandalously low-cut top; those were all things he catalogued in a quick, singular breath. "You got me a shot! Jesus, you're a saint!"

"Nicki," the blonde man, Jake, almost sighed, "That's for Faye. She asked first, and she gave me money, you cheap-skate." The girl with the burgundy hair rolled her eyes, and Cougar tried not to look like he was eavesdropping, except he totally was. One of the perks of being a bartender was listening to other people's conversations, and the interaction between Jake and Nicki was proving humorous. "Aw, come on, Jakey," the girl attempted to cajole him with dulcet tones and fluttering lashes, but Jake remained unswayed.

"Buy your own," he told her decisively, and asked Cougar, "How much?"


"U.S.?" the kid asked, and Cougar nodded. The place he worked at in Mazatlan was in the heart of the tourist party scene. Most places around there accepted both USD and Mexican currency. It was just easier for the owners to bring in more business, rather than turning people away for not having enough money converted. So the menu behind the bar showed prices in both currencies.

He handed over a ten that looked like it had gone through the wash a few times and as Cougar was retrieving his change he saw another woman sidle up to the kid. Her hair was dark blonde and wavy, and she was significantly less tan than Nicki. She wore white and looked a bit more elegant than her friend, who appeared to be trying to convince her to buy her a shot. Faye?

Returning with the young man's change, Cougar was forestalled from leaving by the blonde haired girl. "Can we get another tequila shot, please?" Her smile was lovingly exasperated as Nicki squealed and bounced in place.

"Si," he nodded and provided the trio with a third shot, which the blonde woman paid for with money she retrieved from inside her white, scoop-necked shirt. Liking the look of her, he favored her with a slow, flirtatious smile, which the blonde girl returned with a sudden slight flush on her cheeks. "Thank you," she added, her voice a little higher than before.

The three friends took their shots together and then disappeared, leaving a fair tip on the bar top. Work continued on relentlessly, but that was good. More customers meant more tips. He saw the blonde several more times. The girl would make it a point to sidle up to whichever end of the bar Cougar currently occupied. She would smile sweetly and waggle her fingers to catch his eye, leaning over the bar a bit in order to be heard as she placed her drink orders. On one of her return trips, she stopped him and said, "Hi, I'm Faye," with her fingertips just barely touching his on her glass. "Cougar," he responded, and gave her another smile like pulled taffy. She blushed lightly once again and murmured, "It's nice to meet you, Cougar."

"You too," he told her as her friend Nicki walked up, slanted an unreadable look at him, and then turned to her friend, all bubbly smiles and laughter, pulling Faye back towards their party.

Later on in the night, while everyone was well on their way to being inebriated, and Cougar was getting antsy, Faye showed up at the bar again and asked him when he got off of work. "Four," he replied, as he skillfully maneuvered her towards the less crowded part of the bar where he could flirt in earnest, his long, dark fingers dancing over the skin of her wrist, feeling her pulse thrum faster when he looked at her from under the brim of his cowboy hat.

"Wow, that's early. You guys sure do party hard down here," she laughed, the sound a little breathier than normal. "You want to do something after? My friends and I, we rented this beach house down here fairly close by."

"Sure," Cougar purred and refrained from letting his smugness creep onto his face. With gentle yet insistent hands, he rotated Faye's wrist in his grasp and pressed his lips into her open palm, dark eyes locked on her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her free hand grip the bar, knuckles turning white. The tip of his tongue touched her skin, tasting salt, and sipping something more as well, something indescribable. It was like feeling the first faint rays of sunshine on your face in the morning, happy and sensual. "I'll see you at four," he said as he released her. Her breath came out shaky, and she nodded. "Yep," she turned and meandered off, looking dazed, yet pleased.

The other blonde, the man named Jake, showed up at the bar around three-thirty. He had his short-sleeved, collared shirt hanging from his belt loops, leaving him in just a light gray tee shirt that had a pi sign that said 'get real' on it and a rational number responding 'be rational' and a pair of khaki shorts. Sweat darkened his hair at his temples and as he waited at the bar, he shoved his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Can I get a beer and um…" he flipped over his hand, which Cougar could see had something written on it in purple sparkle pen, "A saba colada and a cosmopolitan. Jesus, I didn't know girls actually drank that crap. I thought it was like an urban legend or something." Jake shook his head and looked up to discover Cougar laughing quietly, a genuine laugh, nothing contrived about it. Cougar shrugged. "Girls like alcohol that does not taste like alcohol. That way when they're drunk, they can pretend to be surprised about it."

Jake cackled and slapped his hand on the bar. "Gonna have to remember that one. Oh, and it's so true, man."

Cougar set the beer in front of Jake first, then went about mixing the cosmopolitan. The most challenging drink would be the saba colada, because it was blended not mixed. So that took a little while longer and by the time he returned, Jake had an empty beer bottle in front of him. Dark eyebrows shot up, and the blonde haired man grinned sheepishly. "I was bored," he offered up as an excuse, and Cougar reached into the fridge and fetched him another bottle. The college student paid up, glanced over his shoulder as though looking for someone, and then cursed. "Dammit, I've only got two hands."

The bartender was chuckling again as he watched Jake precariously grab and balance two large drinks and his beer, using his shoulders to muscle his way through the crowd. Half an hour later, Faye flounced up as last call went out and the lights came on full force with Nicki and Jake trailing behind her. "Hey!" she called, waving enthusiastically, "Are you ready to go?" The girl with the burgundy hair tottered in her high heels and Jake caught her up around the waist as he rolled his eyes. The expression made Cougar grin unexpectedly as he tossed down his dish towel.

"Yes," he replied, offering a perfunctory farewell to his coworkers, who knew enough about Cougar and his romantic history to laugh and call out crude jokes in Spanish as he clocked out. For his part, the half-incubus ignored them, even though it sometimes bothered him. It wasn't like Cougar did what he did out of some misguided need to be a playboy. He needed food, as simple as that. Hell, part of him wished he could find someone and settle down more and more as he grew older. Watching his sisters grow up and find love, marry and have children, had made him realize that, admit it to himself. Then he immediately shelved it as a pipe dream and kept on with his life the way it was. His mother had said it herself, he could kill with his love, and not all the wishing in the world would change that. Still, he didn't appreciate his coworkers jeering at his bed-partners. That was just bad manners.

He came out of the back room behind Faye and her friends, and he slithered up behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back. She jumped with a sound like a squeak, turning. Upon seeing him, she laughed aloud. "You scared me!" she accused.

"Lo siento," he grinned, unapologetic despite his words, "Shall we go?"

"Definitely," Faye said and took his hand to lead the way. As the four of them walked—well, Nicki mostly stumbled and leaned on Jake—he was officially introduced.

"Nice to meet you both," he nodded, walking backward briefly.

"You too," Jake smiled in a charmingly boyish way, his face not showing the effort it must be taking to wrangle the hilariously drunk girl in his arms. "Yeeeaaaah," Nicki drawled and made some sort of flailing movement, maybe to shake his head. Whatever it was intended to do, it dislodged her from Jake's grip for a moment, and she wheeled forwards dangerously. Alarmed, Cougar stepped up and wrapped his arms around the girl as Jake's arms closed on the redhead once more.

With their arms tangled together around the girl, both men looked up at each other over the girl's head. There was a moment of silence as Cougar took in the feel of Jake's skin on his and the strong, sudden pulse of lust that flared over him, like a hunger pang that twisted in his lower stomach. Then Jake cracked a grin and started laughing, and Cougar was laughing too. He could even hear Faye giggling over his shoulder as she said, "Jeez, Nicki, how drunk are you?" The redhead, who had her face pillowed in Cougar's shirt, mumbled, "Pretty fucking wasted," and gave her friend a thumbs-up.

Holding the girl upright, Cougar pushed himself away and went to wrap an arm around her from the other side of Jake. "Perhaps between you and I, we can get her to the house unscathed, eh?" A little half-smile graced the curve of his thin lips, and the blonde haired man smiled back. "Sounds good, dude. She's an unruly beast, this one." So with the two of them holding Nicki up and prodding her along, and Faye leading the way, they made it to the rented beach house as night was starting to fade into the early morning shades of sunrise.

The beach house was little more than a glimpse of white-washed wood and tile floors as Cougar and the other man maneuvered Nicki to her bedroom, where the girl became abruptly stubborn and incompliant. She had her hands braced on either side of the doorframe and kept repeating, "No, no, no. You can't come in. I gotta…change into PJ's and stuff, so you can't come in."

Finally, Faye came took Cougar's place next to Nicki. "She doesn't want somebody she doesn't know in her room," Faye explained apologetically, "Because she needs help changing. You understand, right?"

"Oh, oh, si. Of course, I understand," he replied and backed off, "I'll just…have a seat." The blonde haired girl grinned and jerked her chin towards the kitchen, "Help yourself if you want something to drink while you wait."

Then the three of them shifted sideways through the doorway to the bedroom, and Jake just as soon reappeared, shutting the door behind him. "Faye is going to help awkwardly maneuver Nicki into some pajamas. She said I'm supposed to entertain you until she can come fuck your brains out." Cougar laughed. "No, seriously," Jake responded, "I'm under orders. So let's grab some beers." He strode into the galley kitchen area, pulling two glass bottles out of the fridge and handing one to Cougar.

Just then they heard the unmistakable sound of someone hurling. Jake winced, looking at the door the girls had disappeared behind and then to Cougar apologetically, and asked, "So, you play cards? 'Cause I'm pretty sure Faye's going to stay in there for a bit to make sure Nicki doesn't drown in her own puke." Cougar snorted, nodded a yes, and they sat down at the table, dealing out a quick hand of rummy.

"Where are you guys from?" The Latino man asked as he surveyed his seven cards. He swapped the four of spades with the ace of clubs on the top of the discard pile, and laid down a neat run of three. He paused to pull on his beer while Jake contemplated his first move.

"I'm from New Hampshire," Jake replied, "But we go to school at MIT." Cougar looked up and gave Jake a doubtful look. "Nicki?" he asked, clearly having trouble picturing the loud, bouncy drunk girl at such a prestigious university. Jake laughed and nodded as he picked up a card from the pile, surveyed it, and just as quickly discarded it. "I know she acts like a dumbass, but I guess she's some kind of savant when it comes to science. She's a bio-chemical engineering major, whatever that means. Faye's a math major, and I'm in computer science and engineering."



Cougar went through the motions of the game, then resumed his thought. "MIT is in Massachusetts, yes?"

"Cambridge," Jake agreed, and slammed almost a third of his beer at once.

"Cold there?"

"Hell yeah," the other man replied.

"I don't like the cold," Cougar admitted as Jake dropped the queen of spades into the discard pile.

"No? Too bad. It's pretty when it snows up there."

"I prefer my Christmases dry as a bone," Cougar replied with a smirk, "I'm from New Mexico."

"No shit. What are you doing all the way down here?"

"My mother asks me that all the time." Both men laughed, another round of cards were drawn, and Jake placed a four of a kind down and flicked another card down to rummy off of Carlos' run. "I don't know, truthfully. Why not Mazatlan?" he asked rhetorically, "It's nice y interesante, and I guess mostly I just got tired of the States. I may move back someday to be closer to mi familia, but for now I am enjoying the sunshine and the food too much."

"I can't imagine," Jake shot back, "It must be like being on vacation all the time, even if you have to work."

"It is," Cougar agreed and grinned laconically, scooping up the queen of spades and laying down a run of four, jack to ace.

"Shit," his opponent cursed as he observed the move, "I'm fucked."

At that, the incubus almost laughed outright, but he settled for just shaking his head and saying, "There is always a chance, mi amigo." It wasn't until they finished the game (Cougar stomped Jake with one-hundred and thirty points to Jake's seventy-five) that they realized the sounds of furious vomiting had ceased some time ago, and yet Faye hadn't emerged from the bedroom. "Huh," Jake mused, "I'll go check on her," he said and downed the last of his third beer. The younger man rose from the table and stretched as he did so, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin between his t-shirt and shorts that Cougar took a moment to appreciate, and flip-flopped his way to the door.

He peeked in and then came back out, shrugging. "Sorry, man, they're both passed out." Sadly, the bartender had figured as much when the blonde haired Faye hadn't returned, and he fluidly switched to Option B: Make Do With What You Have.

When he'd touched Jake earlier, he'd felt that zing of desire from the younger man, and it's not like he was bad-looking or that his personality was unappealing. Cougar just preferred women as a default setting. Perhaps it was something to do with being raised in the ways of Mexican machismo that made it so, but still…desire was desire, and he had been known to go with men if nothing else was available. The gnawing hunger inside him demanded to be fed. Sure, he could push it off for another day if he wanted, sometimes a few if he'd fed very well, but it would begin to affect him gradually and Cougar wasn't the type to self-punish, at least not in a way that could eventually kill him.

Thinking on it, it was good they'd had that time to themselves, time to grow a rapport with each other, because he was confident that some of Jake's later commentary had been tentative forays into flirtatiousness that Cougar had been receptive to. It was good, because then it wouldn't seem like his offer, his interest was coming out of nowhere.

So Cougar shrugged his shoulders and favored Jake with a long look as he drained the last of his beer. Nervous, perhaps sensing the change in him, the sudden sharpening of his focus, Jake shifted back and forth, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "So, uh, I guess you'll be going now…"

Licking his lips, a movement that Jake followed with his eyes, Cougar stood up and said, "Or we could keep each other company."


Part Two

Oh. My. God.



Jensen couldn't believe he was actually thinking about it. Was he really going to poach the guy that Faye had tried to stake out for herself that night? Wasn't there something in the Bro Code that prohibited stuff like that? Except, okay, that was for bros. Not your ho-ish friends/roommates. Seriously, he wasn't one to talk because god knew he couldn't hold onto a girlfriend to save his life, but generally relationships don't function when significant others habitually cheat on each other.

But…did the fact that Cougar would have just been another fling for Faye, who then would have gone back to her long-term boyfriend, did that make it okay for Jake to take Cougar to bed? How did the Bro…er, Ho Code apply to one-night stands?

Then Jake thought that if Faye were conscious to give her blessing, she probably would. Oh, she'd be green with envy, like Jake had been for half the night because god those jeans looked painted on that hot ass, but she would still give him the go-ahead. After all, there weren't any official claims, no feelings to be hurt, just a sexy, sexy man who wanted to have hot, sweaty sex before he went home that morning. In light of that realization, Jake looked up at Cougar, who was standing quite close to him, leaning against the kitchen counter with a thoughtful look on his very attractive face. He was waiting patiently for an answer, and Jake almost had a panic attack.

He didn't stop to think or to analyze why Cougar's interest suddenly shifted from Faye to himself, instead chalking it up to just a base male urge to have an orgasm, and having one with a partner was always better than having one alone.

Finally, Jake just settled for a shrug. "Okay," he replied, and to his relief, Cougar smiled, slow and sticky-sweet. It was a really good smile, and it made Jake lick his own lips in anticipation of what other kinds of things that mouth would be good at. "Good," the man in the cowboy hat replied—and seriously, whatever the deal was with that hat, it was fucking hot and called to life every Brokeback Mountain fantasy he'd ever had—and took two steps closer to back Jake into the countertop. It was with Cougar's arms braced on the counter on either side of his hips that he suddenly realized he was taller than the other man, that Cougar had to tilt his head up slightly to look him in the eyes, especially at that close of an angle. Not that it mattered so much, but it just seemed incongruous with the bartender's personality, which while quiet still carried a great deal of large attributes: self-assuredness, seductiveness, other things that started with 's' that he couldn't quite remember anymore because Cougar was slipping his knee between Jake's and they were sharing the same air an instant before lips descended on his own, short-circuiting all thoughts unrelated to the soft meeting of mouths.

The kiss was short and gentle, like a tentative testing of waters or a symbol, like the gun shot at the start of a race. 'Okay, now we are going to have sex.' Oh, fuck, he was going to have sex. With a man. Jake had messed around with a couple of different guys before, like Freshman year at MIT when he got completely obliterated at that one party and ended up in the bathroom with some hot asian dude sucking his dick, or last year when he and Maaran Daryapurkar (it suddenly occurred to Jensen that maybe he had a thing for exotic-looking guys) hooked up and got each other off, then passed out cold on his bed. What was with him and using alcohol to pave the way to Buttsecks Land? Seriously, something about that was messed up.

All of the sudden he felt a sharp pressure on his lower lip and a flicker of pain, and he pulled back to look at Cougar questioningly. The older man licked the abused spot in apology and purred in his ever-so-sexy accent, "Pay attention."

Wide-eyed, Jake nodded his agreement and his fingers clutched Cougar's hips, the material of his t-shirt soft under his calloused fingers, indicative of many washes. When had that happened?

With the hint of a smirk quirking his lips, Cougar returned his attention to Jake's mouth and the taller man almost found himself melting in appreciation. That clever tongue licked his lips again and Jake parted his obligingly; the tip delved inside of him, flicked against his in a welcome tease that drove a moan out of him, and retreated before he could even think to respond. Lips moved against his in an open-mouthed kiss that was slightly damp, pressure and retreat, just like that goddamn tongue, and Jensen lost his patience, wrapping his hand in that ponytail and tugging back Cougar's head so he could deepen the kiss.

The Latino groaned into his mouth as Jake invaded, tongues sliding against each other urgently, taking breaths through their noses rather than break that hot, wet kiss too soon. A hand pressed against his lower back and it occurred to Jake that he was rolling his hips against the other man needfully, and Cougar was totally encouraging it and if he wasn't careful this was all going to be over way faster than he would like it to be. Jake was totally prepared to sacrifice half his day to having sex with Cougar. Coming in his shorts was not part of that plan. With great reluctance, Jake eased the intensity of their kiss down and gave himself a moment to get everything back under control again. He didn't know if Cougar was just that much of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy or if he somehow sensed that Jake needed a minute to compose himself, but the other man eased out of the liplock gracefully as well, not chasing his mouth or demanding more.

"Mm, you taste good," Cougar stated, "Like Tecate and candy." Jake would have laughed except Cougar nibbled his way up Jake's neck and sucked on his earlobe, and his knees felt weak all of the sudden. He moved to steady himself by resting a hand on the counter behind him. "What's your favorite candy?" Cougar whispered in the ear whose nerves were abruptly connected directly to his groin. Swallowing convulsively, Jake replied, "Saucers, but I was eating Twizzlers."

"Strawberry?" Cougar breathed as he traced the shell of Jake's ear with his tongue, up and then back down where he licked his earlobe once more, much to the blonde's delight, and nipped it as he pulled away, drawing a small sound from Jake. "You like that, don't you?" the bartender's voice dropped low and the sound of it elicited a shiver from him. "Hm?" Curious hands traced his muscles underneath his nerdy t-shirt, then just a fingertip tracing back and forth on his waist, following the line of his waistband.

Holy fuck.

Jake had never actually been seduced before, and he found that he was quite unprepared for how to respond to such a role reversal, more used to being the pursuer than the pursued.

"Yes," he replied throatily when Cougar kissed his Adam's apple, forcing his head to tip back.

"To which question?" Cougar spoke against his throat, and the feeling was so acute, the skin stretched thin with his head leaned back the way it was, Jake could feel the vibration of the other man's speech in his own larynx. The brim of Cougar's hat brushed against his chin, and Jensen was just beginning to think that was going to be annoying when Cougar took the hat off of his own volition and set it down on the counter beside them. Firm lips pressed into his neck, trailing kisses back and forth, and Jake replied, "Both." Okay, so he wasn't exactly as his most articulate just then, but who would be?

Jake felt the smile against his neck an instant before his opposite earlobe was teased, a wet, pointed tongue drawing small circles over the cartilage, then sucked into a hot mouth. Upon its release, Cougar blew cool air on that small, easily overlooked body part and Jake broke out in goosebumps. "Holy shit, you're good," he almost sighed out, and Cougar laughed. "Gracias," he replied, nipping Jake's chin and coming back to his lips.

"De-fucking-nada," Jensen shot back, and Cougar snorted while he chuckled. After that, Jake found himself dragged down into another one of those soul-stealing, mind-numbing kisses. That time Cougar took control and used his lips and tongue to discover how many different sounds he could elicit from Jake before fresh air became an imperative. Jake's hand had drifted away from Cougar's hair, even though he loved the feeling of those thick, satiny strands sliding through his fingers, and come to curl around the back of the other man's neck, his thumb massaging over the spot where his skull concaved into his spine. Cougar let out a low groan at the motion and let himself rest a little more fully against his partner. They pulled back from one another at the same moment, panting a little, Cougar rotating his neck in Jake's hand. "That feels good," he complimented absently.

"Keep your tension there, hey?" Jake brought his other hand up and dug his fingers gently into the muscle on either side of Cougar's neck. "Unh," Cougar grunted, making a slight face as he felt something give in his neck. "Mine's in my back," the blonde continued quietly as he worked at a small, stubborn knot, rubbing in hard, counterclockwise circles. It loosened with a sigh from the dark-haired man, and Cougar rubbed his cheek against Jake's chest, almost like he was scent-marking him, in gratitude. "Better?" Jake asked. Cougar settled for nodding, then lifted his head so that he could kiss Jake again, hands diving underneath his shirt as he did so, mapping out the planes of his abdomen.

"Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom?" He suggested when he broke the kiss, and Jake blinked at him, momentarily confused. Then his eyes cleared, refocusing on the kitchen.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jake found himself stuttering, "I, uh, I forgot where we were." His admission was sheepish, but it just made Cougar kiss him again. "The best compliment you could give me," the older man replied, then stepped back so that Jake could lead the way to his room, which was on the opposite side of the living room from the girls', swiping his hat off the counter as they went.

However, the sight of the bed made Jake pause as reality rushed back into his head. They were back at his starting quandary: he'd never actually had sex with another man. This was foreign territory, unexplored waters; in short, Jake was completely out of his depth. He turned to Cougar to tell him as much, but froze with his mouth open when the bartender tossed his hat down on the dresser and stepped up to Jake, his face friendly and warm. "Relax," he offered, "No pressure. We go as far as you like."


"I just know," Cougar replied, "I can see your uncertainty. You have a terrible poker face, Jake." His grin was crooked and his words made something unknot in Jake's chest, some secret worry he'd harbored laid to rest. Then he groaned as Cougar started tracing his muscles under his shirt again, lifting it up as he went, and Jake threw the t-shirt across the room viciously, not focused on where it had ended up because Cougar had started kissing his collarbones and chest, flicking a flat, hardened nipple experimentally. That didn't really do anything for Jake—the nipple itself wasn't sensitive, but the area around it was, which Cougar discovered on accident when his fingertips were learning all the newly exposed skin. The feeling of those dark, slender fingers running over the skin there made Jake hum low in his throat, which he was sure Cougar catalogued for future reference, if his quick grin was any indication.

A lightbulb went on in Jake's head as he watched Cougar lick down his sternum and spear his tongue into his bellybutton, making Jake jump a little at the sensation this elicited inside of him, a ticklish feeling of butterflies fluttering within. He was being rather selfish, letting Cougar take the lead in all of this. Hell, the older man was undoing Jake's belt buckle, popping the button on his shorts. His dick was so hard that it strained against the zipper and when the bartender pulled down the tab, Jensen let out a groan of appreciation, of relief. Cougar nosed his length through his boxers, and Jake moaned, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. When had he taken off his flip-flops? He couldn't remember. The tip of his cock was peeking out over the low waistband of his boxers, flushed with blood, and Jake watched, fascinated, as Cougar leaned over him and kissed the tip, flicking his tongue against the slit and collecting the pre-cum that had accumulated there. Long lashes fluttered as blue eyes grew hazy, and Jake licked his lips, wanting to taste but held as he was by the temptation of that sinful mouth so near his aching penis.

Then his boxers joined his shorts on the floor. Freed, his dick sprang up and nearly hit Cougar in the face, which set them both to laughing helplessly. The younger man's died first, cut off in a strangled sound as the Latino man knelt in front of him and cupped his balls, gently kneading them in his hand. "Fuck," Jake gasped, just in time to have the mushroomed head of his member disappear into Cougar's mouth. The other man sucked slowly, languidly bobbing his head up and down. It was different from the asian kid. Cougar didn't try to take his whole length in or seem to hurry through the process; he slowly tortured Jake until the younger man cried out and pulled away, panting, murmuring, "Enough."

His hands were tangled in Cougar's hair, disrupting the neatness of his ponytail, and Jake thought he looked really hot like that. He kind of wanted to pull the tie out altogether, but wasn't sure if that would be taking too many liberties. Instead he settled for pulling Cougar upright and tugging his shirt off. Raising an eyebrow, Cougar eyed Jake in a look that challenged him wordlessly, asked him if he was man enough (gay enough?) to give as good as he got. Jake, true to character, couldn't back down from such a blatant dare, and he kept up steady eye contact as he explored another man's bare chest tactilely for the first time. Then his eyes drifted down and he bit his lip, watching his pale hands trace sun-darkened skin, feeling sensitive muscles twitch and relax under him. Cougar grinned and flinched as his hands ghosted down his sides, letting out a soft chuckle. Jake made a note that Cougar was ticklish there and moved on, tracing the sparse line of hair that led down to the top of his jeans with one knuckle.

The Latin man made a soft sound of pleasure, and Jake stepped forwards and kissed him, wanting to swallow that sound down inside of him where he would always have it with him. Pulling and clinging, lips slick with saliva, Jake cupped Cougar's jaw in his hand, his other hand popping the button on those tight, dark jeans. Hands circled around his body, ran firmly over his back, kneading into tight tissue enough to make Jake grunt, and then cupped his bare ass. Jake eased the zipper down and gingerly pulled off the other man's underwear as well. This was something he remembered doing before. A finger was sliding between his butt cheeks, and Jake tensed involuntarily but was distracted from his anxiety by Cougar's other hand sliding around to wrap around his dick. It still had traces of saliva on it, and his hand glided up and down easily, experimenting with different grips and speeds until he found one that had Jake moaning with every movement. He barely even noticed the finger tracing around his asshole, except that the sensation it produced was abnormal and intriguing.

It really was lucky for Cougar that Jake was such a curious guy. The blonde wrapped his hand around the other man's engorged penis and Cougar hummed into his mouth as Jake began to tug on it, twisting his hand up at the top and spreading the bead of pre-cum his thumb found at the slit for lubrication. The hand on his dick disappeared momentarily and closed over his own, their fingers tangling together around Cougar's cock. Breaking the kiss, Cougar told him, "like this," in a voice that was rough with wanting. He tightened Jake's hand around him a little more, forcing the strokes slower and firmer. "Oh, fuck," Cougar groaned between clenched teeth, resting his forehead on Jake's shoulder, looking down their bodies at their hands moving in tandem, and Jake couldn't help but to watch also, his gaze inexorably drawn to the sight as well. The hand on his butt cheek tightened, that finger pressing more insistently up against his untried entrance, circling slowly and making Jake shudder.

"Jake," Cougar tipped his head up, flicking the blonde haired man's earlobe once more and Jake surprised himself by releasing a noise that could only be described as a mewl, "I want to fuck you, but if you're not comfortable with that, I understand. I just…" Cougar untangled his fingers from Jake's, cupped the other man's balls in his hand, rolling them softly, tracing the slight separation between testes, and then sliding behind to pinch and play with his perineum.

"Oh, god," Jake groaned as those fingers rubbed him in just the right spot and he trembled with intense arousal.

"I want to make the most of this night," he heard Cougar say, "Al pie de esta noche con un recuerdo para mantenerme caliente, algo que siempre atesoraré."

"Dude," Jake replied, "As long as you keep whispering Spanish nothings in my ear, you can have whatever you want." Laughter followed his hurried declaration and Cougar nipped his lower lip. "You should not offer such open-ended invitations, Jake. Someone may take you up on them," Cougar teased him. Jake snorted wryly and was about to phrase a retort when that devious little finger pushed inside him up to the first knuckle. Instead what was sure to be a witty come-back turned into a pathetic mewl and his eyelids fluttering as his body struggled to process this new feeling. Was it good? Was it bad? Should we fight it? Push it out?

"First time?" Cougar asked carefully.

Jake nodded and heard himself swallow. "Yeah," he said, his hand momentarily stilled on the other's member.

The dark haired man nodded and pulled the little length of his finger out. "Do you have something for lube?" he asked, and Jake took a long pause to think about it.

"Hold that thought," he grinned and went rummaging through his duffel bag, feeling Cougar's eyes on him the whole time. Finally, Jake held up a little plastic baggie triumphantly, with a pink vibrator and a bottle of lube. Cougar's eyebrows lifted. Jake shook his head. "Don't ask, man. It's a long story that involves my roommates and days of whining, bargaining, cajoling, et cetera. The long and short of it is that it's not mine, but in times of dire need…well, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, even one that shares space with a pink vibrating fairy wand from hell." So Jake peeled apart the plastic bag and grabbed the lube, careful not to touch said fairy wand lest he be cursed with the sad sex life of its owner, and tossed the bottle at Cougar. "Do your thing, man," he stated with a grin, making the dark-skinned man laugh again.

"I need your ass to 'do my thing,'" Cougar replied, climbing onto the bed and patting the spot next to him.

"Oh, yeah," Jake laughed and nervously ruffled his hair as he padded over, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His fingers knotted together and he cracked his knuckles with sudden anxiety. "I swear, if you say 'assume the position,'" he trailed off there because Cougar was looking at him with his dark, limpid eyes, understanding and arousal clear to see there. The other man shifted, leaned forwards to catch Jake's mouth in a quick kiss. "I won't hurt you. Not intentionally," he promised, and Jake knew that was as good as he was getting. He'd heard things, enough to know that sex this way could be uncomfortable for some, especially for a—he cringed mentally—virgin, but he was still willing to try it. He had a good feeling about Cougar, like the tail of a disappearing cat around a corner, and he was willing to follow it.

Swallowing his nerves, Jake found the temerity to kiss Cougar back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He wasn't going to back out of this, not now that he'd decided to do it. They spent a long time just kissing and Jake realized that Cougar was trying to get him to relax again, so he breathed deeply and let himself get lost in it, refusing to think about anything except what was happening right that second. Moist, warm mouths battling it out, soothing hands sliding over his body, exploring his skin, making him lose his mind to a slavering beast called lust. He arched up into Cougar's hands and realized that they were both lying on the bed now, side by side.

For some reason, Cougar seemed to be rather skilled at making him get so caught up in his arousal that he forgot his surroundings, forgot what he was doing entirely. The world could be ending, the zombie-apocalypse could be on their doorstep, and all Jake would be able to think about was the taste of Cougar's mouth and the feel of his hands; those hands that were easing his legs apart and sliding between them, touching his dick with gentle, teasing strokes and feather-light caresses. Jake was murmuring something, upon further reflection he thought it was 'please,' and shifting into that touch, begging for more.

A shifting of weight occurred, and Jake opened his eyes to find Cougar lowering himself between Jake's spread legs, urging him to cant his hips up more. Jake obliged only to cry out as Cougar used his tongue to lave his tightened sac. Slick fingers teased his asshole as the older man sucked one testicle into his mouth, sucking gently so that the blonde haired man groaned and found himself running his fingers through long, dark hair, the rubber band flicked off somewhere in the room. A finger slipped inside him and Jake hesitated, his body and mind going through the same battle of wills as before. Cougar didn't push, just released one cojone in favor of the other. He did something with his tongue that made Jake forget about the finger in his butt momentarily, and the next thing he knew that digit had slid all the way in, crooked up and dragged across a spot so sensitive that his grip tightened on Cougar's hair wildly.

"Oh, wow," he croaked when the fantastic sensation faded away to an echo of its original pleasure, "Should have done this a long time ago." Cougar was chuckling while he still carefully held Jake's testicle in his mouth, and Jensen squirmed delightedly, inadvertently moving the finger inside him and—

His mind went blank for a minute and by the time he recovered, Cougar was moving inside of him with two fingers instead of one, using his fingers to fuck him and stretch him, pushing against the walls of his rectum insistently. It was wholly absorbing and it only got better when a mouth descended on his painfully aroused flesh, sliding down, down, down until Jake thought for sure that Cougar would choke, except he didn't, he just made this humming noise in the back of his throat like having Jake's dick stuffed in his mouth was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Jake moaned loudly, uncaring if the sound traveled or if he woke up his roommates, back arching, awash in interesting sensations that vied for his attention. The dark haired man worked his way back up the length of Jake's proud erection to the weeping tip. He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just underneath the head and sucked lightly, smirking when Jake gasped and tugged on his hair again.

Fingers rubbed his prostate again and Jake tossed his head back and forth blindly, his neck cording with tension. Then they backed out and the whole process began again with another finger. By the time Cougar had worked his way up to four, Jake was insensible, mouth open with harsh pants, eyes squeezed shut tightly. "Please, please," he begged, "Oh god, please…"

"Please, what?" Cougar purred, stretching up to nip and nibble at Jake's ear in the way that made him crazy.

"Oh." It sounded like the sound had been dragged from his chest, like all the lust and need and wonder in the world had been condensed into that single syllable, and Cougar bit at his neck during the sudden surge, doubtlessly leaving a mark. "Fuck me," Jake panted, squirming against the fingers still thrusting in and out of him at a leisurely pace, "Put your dick in me and fuck me. I want to feel what it's like to come with you inside of me."

"Okay," Cougar agreed and pulled his fingers out. While Jake shuddered at the sudden loss, the other man leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled his wallet from his pants pocket. Rifling through the contents, Cougar emerged with a condom that he ripped open with his teeth and rolled onto his straining member. Then he caught Jake's leg, curving under the knee and tickling the sensitive skin there, pulling him open wide and pressing up, a little surprised when Jake acquiesced easily to the flexible position, using his other hand to line himself up. He didn't warn Jake or wait because he knew all too well how that could make a man nervous, undo all of the hard preparation in a single moment of nerves, just started to push inside.

"Oh crap," Jake hissed, blue eyes squinted shut tightly. (Where had his glasses gone? Damn Cougar and his magical mind-melting ways.) "Sorry," Cougar gritted his teeth, "You want to stop?"

"No, keep going," he said and shook his head against the pillow. Then the resistance passed, and Cougar slid the rest of the way in easily, coming to a halt when his balls bounced against Jensen's ass, and god, that was an unusual (arousing) feeling. Damn his curiosity. When Cougar pulled out, Jake found himself biting his lip at the feeling of loss, and grunting in satisfaction as he slid home again. Blue eyes opened again, watching in rapt fascination as his virgin asshole was plundered by another man, feasting on the sight of flexing muscles and the look of concentration on Cougar's face. Jake liked the way his dark hair fanned out around him, tendrils spilling over his shoulders and onto his chest, twitching with every thrust he made. It was quite…beautiful, really.

Then Cougar pulled back, adjusted his angle, and when he slid in again, he touched something inside that stole breath and thought and reason. It defied logic, that intense pleasure, that it would be so much better now than it had been. Every move struck his prostate until Jake was arching, his hips moving, chasing that great wave of ecstasy that he'd allowed to elude him for so long. It was wonderful and intense, too good to last, and when Cougar wrapped his hand around Jake's cock, he knew he was done for. Once, twice, and his body was seizing up, heels digging into the mattress, come splashing his belly.

Cougar groaned and brought his hand to his mouth, licking Jake's semen from his hand as he fingers tightened on the younger man's hips and he shook, riding out his own climax.

They collapsed side by side, panting and trembling with aftershocks, sweat dampening their skin from the duration of their session. Efficiently, Cougar disposed of the condom and felt around for the box of tissues, gently wiping Jake between his stretched and sore thighs. "Jesus," Jake finally uttered when he could think to say anything.

The other man looked at him and laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Actually, it's Carlos," he replied. Then they were both laughing, until Jake yawned tiredly and said to Cougar—er, Carlos—"You can stay if you want. Catch some sleep."

"Thank you," Carlos said.

"You should know I'm a cuddler," Jake thought to tell him as he was drifting off.

"You should know I'm okay with that," Carlos replied with a yawn of his own, and just to prove it, he tugged Jake over so that the blond haired man was on his side with an arm thrown over Cougar's middle. Jake tangled his leg with the other man's as well and nodded off, suddenly more tired than he could say. As he was falling asleep, he heard Cougar sigh and run his fingers through Jake's short hair, and he had the sudden thought that for a man who'd left behind his family and friends in America on what he supposed was a whim, Cougar had some sort of sorrow lurking inside him because that—that sigh was a sound of sadness and longing and disappointments. At least that's what Jake thought before he fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.