FOOK YOU, HOMEWORK. I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR EXISTENCE.

~::~

It's dusk. Cougar is pretty sure that if he dissembles and cleans his gun one more time, it will disintegrate. He sighs, raises the scope to his eye and peers out from between the curtains. His window overlooks the outdoor pool, and he's vaguely hopeful that maybe Jensen will be out there in his pink-and-green, petunia-patterned swim trunks, splashing around and going down the slides and showing off his "cannonball skillz" as he calls them. Of course, that familiar blonde explosion of hair is nowhere to be seen.

He turns away to glance at the tray of cooling onion soup and grilled salmon that Pooch ordered him to eat. He pulls his hat down over his eyes, lays flat on the bed.

Tink tink tink.

His eyes snap open with a start and he rolls off the bed, grabbing his rifle as he falls. He pops back up, gun aimed at the window where the tapping is coming from.

Jensen is hanging suspended in front of the glass, wearing one of the new climbing harnesses that Clay specifically ordered him not to fuck with. He's grinning ruefully as he knocks on the pane, mouthing words that Cougar can't hear. Rolling his eyes, temporarily overwhelmed with relief at not having shot the crazy hacker, the sniper sets his rifle on the bed and opens the window.

"Hey, Coug. I just, uh, y'know, thought I'd give one of these babies a try. If we ever need to go spelunking- which is an awesome word- we'll wanna know how to use these really well when the Crawlers attack. 'Course, we've got guns instead of picks, but I still think-" The tech babble falters when Cougar reaches out and grabs the blonde's shirt collar, hauling him into the room and letting him drop to the floor.

"Dangerous," the Spaniard mutters as an explanation, stalking back to the bed in the hopes that Jensen will just leave now.

"Hell yeah, Crawlers are dangerous; they're all- oh. Right." Completely failing to take a hint, as usual, the American stands and begins to disentangle himself from the harness. He makes a frustrated noise through his teeth as he tries to force open the clip around his waist. After a few moments of struggle, he looks up. "Cougs? Buddy? Wouldja mind-?" He asks it like he has a million times in the past, whenever he got stuck in a tree or confronted by an angry Spanish-speaking woman or surrounded by hostile men with AK-47s, always the same easy question. Wouldja mind...?

And before his brain catches up with his body, Cougar is across the room, shaking his head in exasperation as he does every time the question is asked, his fingers brushing over Jensen's as he carefully presses the release on the buckle. The hacker's still wearing that casually sheepish grin, which falls the second their eyes meet and they both realize that they're standing very close together and that Cougar's hands are at Jensen's crotch. They freeze like that, soldier's instinct taking over, telling them both to hold position until the danger passes. Which, in this situation, doesn't help at all. There's one of those 'awkward silences' that Jensen's heard of. He decides he does not like awkward silences. He clears his throat.

"Well," he says, his eyes fixed on the bad reproduction of Kahlo's Viva la Vida on the wall over Cougar's shoulder. "Thanks, man. You know me; I can hack the fricking Death Star with one hand, but when it comes to fiddly little buckles, I just can't seem to, uh..."

"Si," The long-haired Loser is trying with all his willpower to move away, to take a step back, but he's stuck, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides.

"So..."

They're both silent again.

"So, uhh, look, I'm sorry about the other day at the arca-"

"No, lo siento, I did not mean to startle you-"

"No, I was just-"

More silence.

"I-I've... I haven't been honest with you," Cougar begins, and at the same time Jensen starts to babble.

"I've kind of been messing with you lately..." Oh, hell, he thinks, and blurts as quickly as possible, "I, uh, I bought a Spanish dictionary."

"You... what? When?" It's not often that the sniper looks totally thrown for a loop, but for a few seconds he just stares at his friend.

"About... about a week and a half after you started acting weird. Y'know, when you started hitting on me in Spanish. It was driving me crazy, not knowing what the hell you were saying, so I just-"

Fuck it. He bites the bullet.

"The, uh, the thing is," Jensen says, trying to look at anything but Cougar, "I think there's a definite possibility that I might maybe be kind of a little completely in love with you."

Even more silence.

"Q... Que?" Cougar manages, unconsciously slipping back into Spanish, his eyes wide, completely stunned.

"I said..." The hacker leans forward, takes a quick breath, and presses his lips to his friend's. When there's no reaction beyond a slight twitch, he pulls away enough to kiss a line along the smaller man's jaw, up to his ear, long black hairs tickling his nose as he whispers, "Te amo."

He moves, slowly, trying not to startle the sniper, and wraps his arms around Cougar's waist, drawing him in.

The second time their mouths meet, Cougar seems to have realized, at least on some level, that this is, in fact happening. His lips part and Jensen makes a noise, a kind of happy little hum, and immediately begins a thorough investigation of his friend's mouth with his tongue.

And then it's like someone's flipped a switch; Cougar lets out this low, gravelly growl and wraps himself around the hacker with all his limbs, pressing them together as close as is physically possible without actually merging their bodies through their clothing. Jensen grins into the kiss, slightly surprised by just how easy it is to support the sniper's weight- it's so easy to forget that Cougs is small, compact, all lean muscle and sinew under his loose-fitting garments. Jake stumbles his way across the room, both of them falling gracelessly onto the bed, his hands never leaving the Spaniard's body. His fingers are darting up under Cougar's shirt, gliding along his spine, dancing over his jutting hipbones, and finally settling on his belt buckle.

"Cougar..." He separates their lips just long enough to whisper, "¿Comprende ahora?" (Understand now?)

"Si," the dark-eyed man raises his head and murmurs affirmations as he nuzzles along the blonde's jaw. "Si." He kisses the spot behind Jensen's ear, enjoying the shiver he gets as a reward. "Si." He trails his hands up the hacker's sides, fingertips slipping beneath the loud orange shirt (which reads MRS FRENCH'S CAT IS MISSING) and up to stroke over his nipples. The hacker moans, hips rolling, then sits back slightly to peel first his, then Cougar's shirt off and hurl them away like the clothing is personally offensive. Immediately, Jensen's mouth is assaulting the sniper's chest, biting his collarbone, licking an outline around his Sacred Heart tattoo, nipping and kissing each of his ribs.

Cougar remains immobile, still only half-convinced that this isn't a dream. He focuses on sounds: the quiet ffffs of fabric under Jensen's deft fingers, the hiss of a belt being pulled, the zhhht of his zipper, the soft in and out of breath, and then-

-then-

"Ahh!" The sound escapes before he can hold it back, shocked and helpless and a lot more breathy than he'd like to admit. Jensen chuckles, which only makes it worse, and bobs his head, and he's way too good at this; his mouth should be some sort of felony. His hands are everywhere, sliding up Cougar's thighs, down his taut stomach, over his narrow hips, making short work of his trousers. He pulls his head back, dragging his tongue up the sniper's shaft, and works his way back up the lean, writhing body, sucking and biting.

"Jensen- mi dios- Jensen-" Cougar's brain seems to have shorted out; all he can do is gasp and squirm and repeat the American's name like a prayer.

The blonde grins, elated, high on the rush that is Cougar, and sits back to admire his friend. "Coug..." The grin fades slightly. "You... are you- are you okay with... this? I mean," he coughs, glances down, looking adorably insecure, "You're not just doing this because I wanna do this, I mean, 'cos I do wanna do this, you have no idea, man, god, I can't even finish my train of thought, you're so hot-"

The Spaniard sits up and kisses his geek into silence. "Jensen," he murmurs, "I started this, remember? Would I have said those things if I did not mean them?"

The hacker hesitates, translating, and then slowly, like the sun emerging from behind rain clouds, his smile reappears. "No. I guess not." His hand comes up, strokes the smaller man's cheek.

"I love you, too," Cougar says, pressing a kiss to that smile.

"Good," Jensen replies, slightly muffled, and his hand creeps down once more, making the black-haired man throw his head back. The smile becomes a smirk, and the tech pumps his friend slowly, teasingly. Cougar endures this for a few moments, his legs straining, then pushes the hand away (very reluctantly) and attacks the hacker's belt, growling like his namesake.

"Okay, okay!" Jensen laughs as his pants are ripped open. "Hang on- easy, cowboy, I'm not gonna evaporate- lemme just grab-" He stands, stepping out of his pants and digging through the back pocket. "I, uh, I brought this-" he produces a small tube, "Y'know, on the off chance you decided not to murder me..."

Cougar grins back at him, dangerous and a little scary, that grin that has come to be known as the "Cougar Likes This Plan" grin, and lies down, spreading his limbs across the bed in a blatant invitation.

"Oohh," Jensen purrs, "I like that image. I'm gonna store that file for future long, boring stakeouts." He tugs his boxers down, opens the tube, and squirts a blob of gel into his palm, warming it as he crawls back onto the mattress. Unconsciously biting his lip, he lowers his hand and presses a slick finger into Cougar, cautious at first, almost withdrawing at the groan he gets. The sniper shakes his head frantically, insisting that it's a good groan and to keep going or he will murder the hacker.

"If you insist..." Jensen adds another two fingers, twisting them, his eyes lighting up like he's broken some super government code when he finds something that makes Cougar rear up, cursing and moaning. "You like that?"

"S-si," the sniper pants, eyes closing as sparks shoot up his spine. "More... Jensen- please... you- now-"

"Okey-dokey." The taller Loser withdraws his fingers, enjoying the hitch in his companion's breath, and pours another jet of gel onto his cock, hissing. "Shhit, that's cold- oh..."

His complaint is cut short by Cougar's hand grabbing him, rubbing and smoothing the lube over his member as he gasps. "Oh Jesus, Cougs..."

The Spaniard pulls his hand away and slings a leg around the larger man, making his point clear without words. Jensen ruts against him, sinks in slowly, withdraws, then thrusts hard enough to make Cougar see stars.

"Oh fuck, yes!" Cougar's hands come up to grip the hacker's shoulders, bruising and begging, and Jensen has no choice but to obey the silent message in his lover's eyes. He thrusts again, grinds their hips together like matching gears, thrusts and moans and keeps up a running commentary with the occasional Spanish word thrown in for Cougar's benefit.

"I love you," he kisses a line up the smooth column of throat, merging their mouths, wrapping his arms around the sniper's waist and hoisting him higher on the bed for a better angle as he pounds into him. "Te amo, Carlos."

"I love you, Jake," Cougar replies, kissing his hacker again and again, nose brushing his jaw as he sucks a red spot into his neck.

"Oh, god- Coug- I can't- I'm gonna-"

"Si- harder, please, do it-"

Their speed increases, the bed creaking, their breath coming out as twin tides of grunting, gasping, pleasure-induced groans and swears and endearments. Jensen cries out, his hips pumping so quickly that the headboard slams against the wall with each movement, and Cougar responds with a roar, both legs locked around the blonde's form. They slow, their bodies gleaming with sweat, still planting feverish kisses along each other's skin wherever it's available. Jensen's arms give out; he falls forward, letting his forehead rest on the sniper's shoulder, feeling weirdly proud that his stomach and chest are sticky with Cougar's semen. He lazily presses his lips to the Spaniard's chin, his cheek.

After about five minutes of panting silence, the tech announces, "Well. That was absolutely amazing and I vote that we do it at least twice a day. More would be good."

Cougar snorts tiredly, too content under the warm weight of Jensen's body to bother responding. He kicks at the sheets until the hacker gets the point and pulls them up, using the top sheet to wipe himself and his friend. He throws the now-messy sheet aside and draws the blankets up, cocooning the two of them together.

"Buenes noches, Carlos."

"Good night, Jake."

~::~

THERE. FINALLY! *phew* Wow, it got pretty damn fluffy. AGAIN.

...Okay, now I have to go finish the other ten or so fics I'm working on. Sigh... Hope you enjoyed, thanks for your patience.

The song that inspired the title:

La noche irá sin prisa de nostalgía

Habrá de ser un tango nuestra herida

Un acordeón sangriento nuestas almas

Seremos esta noche todo el día

Vuelve a mí

Ámame sin luz

En nuestra alcoba azul

Donde no hubo sol para nosotros

Ciégame

Mata mi corazón

En nuestra alcoba azul

Mi Amor

Translation:

The night will continue without the haste of nostalgia

This tango will be our wound

And this bleeding accordian will represent our souls

This night will be our day, all of our days

Come back to me

Love me without the need of light, in our blue alcove

Where there was never any sun to shine on us

Blind me

Kill my heart in our shared blue alcove,

My love

Oh, and Jensen's altered Journey lyrics that my friends and I came up with (there are more lines, but I am too lazy to remember them):

Some will win

Some will lose

Some are born to sleep with Cougs...

SEEYA NEXT TIME, PEOPLE.