Disclaimer: I don't own them…I just love them. :D

AN: I am sorry to say that my Spanish is terrible. Therefore I didn't try to do it in Spanish.

Back when he was young, when he was just Carlos, his favorite time was the twenty minutes a night that his mama spent brushing his hair. It didn't matter how long or short his hair was at the time, it was their time together.

He would spend the time chattering to his mother about anything that came to mind, from what had happened at school that day to the stray kitten he'd seen in the backyard.

"Mama, it was tiny. It was yellow with big blue eyes. Can I keep it? If I keep it and it's a boy-kitty I was thinking about calling it Jake," Cougar can remember telling his mother.

After his mother died, it was different. He still spent those twenty minutes brushing his hair and talking, but now there was nobody to talk to.

After joining the military, his nightly conversations were all in his own head. It helped him relax when he was able to brush his hair before going to bed.

Today, he had a problem. For the first time in years he physically couldn't brush his own hair.

The team's most recent mission had been a cluster fuck of epic proportions. Cougar, Roque, and Clay had been captured and subsequently tortured for information that none of them had.

Pooch and Jensen came busting in, guns blazing, to save them just after Cougar's hand had been broken. Now normally this wouldn't be a problem, he'd just use his other hand. However then he'd risk pulling and/or tearing out the stitches in his other side that Pooch had carefully finished less than an hour ago.

This leaves Cougar standing in his boxers in the bathroom, starring at his reflection as water drips off the ends of his dark, thick hair and onto his bare shoulders.

Jensen bursts into the silent bathroom without a thought. "Pooch says he needs some of our towels so that Clay can shower and get all the blood off," Jensen says as he hurries over to grab the extra towels. "Hold that thought Cougs. I'll be right back."

Cougar stands immobile, his eyes flitting between his reflection and the brush sitting on the bathroom counter.

Jensen is back in less than a minute, almost as if he's afraid to leave Cougar alone for too long. "Now Cougar, what's wrong?" Jensen asks after reading the silent distress on the face of one of his best friends.

Cougar picks up the brush in response.

"Oh. Is that all? Come into the other room. I'll brush your hair," Jensen smiles as he snatches the brush and heads into the main part of their hotel room.

The sound of Jensen explaining how he used to brush his sister's hair when they were younger floats around Cougar as he hesitantly sits on the ragged blue couch.

"Scoot forward,"Jensen says with a grin. Cougar scoots forward on the couch so that Jensen can sit behind him. Once he's settled Jensen pulls Cougar back against him gently.

Jensen continues to tell the story of how he used to brush his sister's hair as he begins to brush Cougar's in short, gentle strokes. What Jensen can't see is the way that Cougar is biting his bottom lip in an attempt to stem the flow of words that want to spill from his lips.

Cougar hoped that once the tangles were gone Jensen would stop brushing. He didn't. Jensen continued to brush Cougar's hair with long, gentle strokes of the brush. Then, the dam burst.

"My mama used to brush my hair. Every night, she'd brush my hair and I'd talk. During one of those talks I talked her into letting me keep the stray kitten I'd found. His name was Jake. It's strange how much you remind me of him. You're both blond with blue eyes, cute, and love to talk to me all the time," Cougar says without stopping to breathe.

Jensen pauses mid-stroke. " You think I'm cute," he squeaks. Cougar is silent. Jensen sighs and returns to brushing Cougar's hair.

"Yes. You're cute. I don't see why women aren't falling at your feet. Then again, I've always wondered if you even noticed how jealous I get when the women at the bars do fawn over you. I mean I know that it's obvious to the others, but why not you. Do you just not want to hurt my feelings? Is that it? You don't really want me. All the flirting you do is just as natural as breathing to you when it's aimed at me. Maybe you really don't mean it. You don't care about me," Cougar blurts out in a rush.

Jensen stops again, sets the brush down and carefully pulls the shocked sniper onto his lap. Cougar is silent once more. He tries to look away from Jensen, embarrassed at what he has revealed to his friend.

"I do care," Jensen whispers before carefully kissing Cougar.

The kiss is short, and sweet. Nothing more than a firm press of lips. "I've always wanted you. I just didn't think that you wanted me," Jensen whispers as he presses his forehead against Cougar's.

"Siempre," Cougar says and pulls Jensen into a far less chaste kiss.

For a while they clash, lips, teeth and tongues. When they finally pull back for air, Cougar's hair once more a mess, Jensen grins. "Now I know what to do when I want you to tell me something. I'll just brush your hair until you crack."