Insomnio, 1/1
Aug. 24th, 2010 03:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveTitle: Insomnio
Author: james
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Notes: written for angst_bingo, square insomnia
Summary: Jensen has to find a way to deal with Cougar's insomnia
After being in the Army for three years, Jake Jensen knows three very important things. One is how to eat whatever is in front of him without gagging. The second is about Cougar. The third is the definition of privacy.
The right to privacy in the military amounts to this: Command has the right to not tell you jack shit unless they feel like it, and even then they probably won't. Other than that, everyone in the unit knows exactly when each other's last bowel movement was, knows the location of every scar and freckle and mole on each other's body, and knows what a guy is really doing when he says he's going out to 'stretch his legs' in the middle of the night.
To be fair, being in the military doesn't really make it that much easier to know when a guy is jerking off. He actually agrees with Roque that if a guy is alone in a shower, alone in a room, or alone with fifty guys on the other side of a thin wall and he hasn't seen a naked woman in six months, then he's jerking off.
Jensen would add a few items to that list, but whenever he tries Roque gets this look in his eyes like he's forgotten about Clay's little rule about throwing Roque's ass in the stockade if he kills another one of their techies. (Jensen hacked the records of his predecessors and was relieved to discover that only one of them died and it wasn't actually Roque's fault. But the two who requested transfers most probably were.)
So yeah, he's used to every inch of his daily life being seen and overheard by his teammates. He's grown used to ignoring the same about them, pretending he doesn't know anything even as he goes online to order some simethicone for Pooch when the guy can't stop eating fried cheese sticks.
Despite sort of expecting it, he didn't get many funny looks when he and Cougar started sharing a bunk. He's pretty sure it took them a few days to figure it out, if only because he tended to crawl into bed around three in the morning and Cougar tended to crawl out of it at six. But Jensen caught the hairy eyeball Roque shot him about four days after Jensen had gotten up the courage to ask Cougar, point-blank, and honestly being a little surprised when Cougar just nodded his head and said yes. But Roque didn't really call him on it, didn't do much else than give Cougar a strange look for not opting to fuck a goat as the better bred and more hygienic option.
Cougar just laughed. Jensen still gets a little wounded when he thinks about it, and resolves to do something evil to Roque's credit rating whenever he gets the chance.
Which is all why Jensen isn't surprised when Clay buttons him and demands to know what's up with Cougar and what the fuck do they have to do to get him to start sleeping again. Not like either of them were trying to hide Cougar's insomnia, but so far it hadn't been effecting Cougar's ability to shoot things from long distances, or win at poker.
Jensen had been secretly hoping it would make him lose at poker, but even he wasn't enough of an asshole to actually hope Cougar's insomnia would last longer, just so Jensen could win back some money.
Maybe a little of his money.
But Jensen swears to Clay that he's doing all he can, from warm milk to delta brain waves CDs to foot rubs to blow jobs-- at which point Clay gives him that look and Jensen had actually stopped himself from talking at that point, although really, it wasn't like Clay didn't know which nights Cougar got a blow job and which nights they fucked and which nights they sixty-nined it. But Clay was getting that growl in his throat like he could hear Jensen thinking about how he knew when and how they had sex, and Jensen had to make a better effort to stop thinking and start talking. About something other than sex and how hot Cougar was in just his hat and a holster belted low around his waist.
All he could do was promise to keep trying, though, and Clay went away, not satisfied but willing to give them a little more time. Though what he expected to do if Jensen failed, Jensen didn't know. It wasn't like they could drag Cougar to the psychologist on base -- not and have that help. He'd sit in the chair and stare at the doctor until his time was up and then somehow Jensen would be back to being in charge of fixing Cougar and, if it was anything like last time Cougar got mandated therapy, Jensen would be stealing sixteen pounds of high-grade chocolate in the middle of Korea to help the Army psychologist get over her need to file reports saying the entire team was psychotic and needed to be taken out and shot.
The problem with Cougar was the second thing Jensen knew, and it was something he didn't think he would be able to fix. Deep down he was just hoping that one day Cougar would simply start sleeping again and everything would go back to normal, and Cougar wouldn't rant and rave in rapid-fire Spanish at the mess cook for serving cold eggs and Clay wouldn't give Jensen those soft, serious eyes that said he wanted to help and didn't know how.
Jensen stood outside his and Cougar's room that night, several hours earlier than his usual. His laptop was on the desk inside, he knew, it would waiting for him to sit down and cruise the world he knew better than the back of his hand. The world he could control, the one place he felt like he was unbeatable.
But instead he forced himself to turn towards the bed and walk over, trying to ignore the way Cougar looked at him from over the edge of the book he'd been reading.
Jensen sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. He pulled off his boots, then his pants and belt, and with a shaking hand he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. In one quick motion he spun around, lifting his legs and lying down on the bed, shoving his head into the half of the pillow Cougar had left for him and closing his eyes tightly.
He felt Cougar slide down, leaning over him to lay the book down beside Jensen's glasses, then Cougar's arm was draped heavily over him and a second later he could feel the heat of Cougar's breath on his face.
Jensen kept his eyes tightly closed, and after a second he pressed his face into the side of Cougar's neck. He didn't feel safer, despite the soft words that were being whispered in his ear.
He could do this. He had to. Nobody seemed to care if he spent his days hyped up on sugar and caffeine, hiding the hours he hadn't slept sitting in front of his computers. But now they were noticing when Cougar had to do the same; downing an entire pot of coffee to get himself going, because he'd spent his night lying awake with Jensen in his arms, fighting back the screams.
Jensen breathed in the scent of Cougar's skin and concentrated on the feel of Cougar's hands. He could sleep here and be safe. He could.
He had to.
He could feel himself shaking, and knew Cougar would be feeling it, too, and resigned himself to lying long hours in bed, waiting.
Maybe tomorrow he would sleep. Maybe tomorrow they both could.
Author: james
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Notes: written for angst_bingo, square insomnia
Summary: Jensen has to find a way to deal with Cougar's insomnia
After being in the Army for three years, Jake Jensen knows three very important things. One is how to eat whatever is in front of him without gagging. The second is about Cougar. The third is the definition of privacy.
The right to privacy in the military amounts to this: Command has the right to not tell you jack shit unless they feel like it, and even then they probably won't. Other than that, everyone in the unit knows exactly when each other's last bowel movement was, knows the location of every scar and freckle and mole on each other's body, and knows what a guy is really doing when he says he's going out to 'stretch his legs' in the middle of the night.
To be fair, being in the military doesn't really make it that much easier to know when a guy is jerking off. He actually agrees with Roque that if a guy is alone in a shower, alone in a room, or alone with fifty guys on the other side of a thin wall and he hasn't seen a naked woman in six months, then he's jerking off.
Jensen would add a few items to that list, but whenever he tries Roque gets this look in his eyes like he's forgotten about Clay's little rule about throwing Roque's ass in the stockade if he kills another one of their techies. (Jensen hacked the records of his predecessors and was relieved to discover that only one of them died and it wasn't actually Roque's fault. But the two who requested transfers most probably were.)
So yeah, he's used to every inch of his daily life being seen and overheard by his teammates. He's grown used to ignoring the same about them, pretending he doesn't know anything even as he goes online to order some simethicone for Pooch when the guy can't stop eating fried cheese sticks.
Despite sort of expecting it, he didn't get many funny looks when he and Cougar started sharing a bunk. He's pretty sure it took them a few days to figure it out, if only because he tended to crawl into bed around three in the morning and Cougar tended to crawl out of it at six. But Jensen caught the hairy eyeball Roque shot him about four days after Jensen had gotten up the courage to ask Cougar, point-blank, and honestly being a little surprised when Cougar just nodded his head and said yes. But Roque didn't really call him on it, didn't do much else than give Cougar a strange look for not opting to fuck a goat as the better bred and more hygienic option.
Cougar just laughed. Jensen still gets a little wounded when he thinks about it, and resolves to do something evil to Roque's credit rating whenever he gets the chance.
Which is all why Jensen isn't surprised when Clay buttons him and demands to know what's up with Cougar and what the fuck do they have to do to get him to start sleeping again. Not like either of them were trying to hide Cougar's insomnia, but so far it hadn't been effecting Cougar's ability to shoot things from long distances, or win at poker.
Jensen had been secretly hoping it would make him lose at poker, but even he wasn't enough of an asshole to actually hope Cougar's insomnia would last longer, just so Jensen could win back some money.
Maybe a little of his money.
But Jensen swears to Clay that he's doing all he can, from warm milk to delta brain waves CDs to foot rubs to blow jobs-- at which point Clay gives him that look and Jensen had actually stopped himself from talking at that point, although really, it wasn't like Clay didn't know which nights Cougar got a blow job and which nights they fucked and which nights they sixty-nined it. But Clay was getting that growl in his throat like he could hear Jensen thinking about how he knew when and how they had sex, and Jensen had to make a better effort to stop thinking and start talking. About something other than sex and how hot Cougar was in just his hat and a holster belted low around his waist.
All he could do was promise to keep trying, though, and Clay went away, not satisfied but willing to give them a little more time. Though what he expected to do if Jensen failed, Jensen didn't know. It wasn't like they could drag Cougar to the psychologist on base -- not and have that help. He'd sit in the chair and stare at the doctor until his time was up and then somehow Jensen would be back to being in charge of fixing Cougar and, if it was anything like last time Cougar got mandated therapy, Jensen would be stealing sixteen pounds of high-grade chocolate in the middle of Korea to help the Army psychologist get over her need to file reports saying the entire team was psychotic and needed to be taken out and shot.
The problem with Cougar was the second thing Jensen knew, and it was something he didn't think he would be able to fix. Deep down he was just hoping that one day Cougar would simply start sleeping again and everything would go back to normal, and Cougar wouldn't rant and rave in rapid-fire Spanish at the mess cook for serving cold eggs and Clay wouldn't give Jensen those soft, serious eyes that said he wanted to help and didn't know how.
Jensen stood outside his and Cougar's room that night, several hours earlier than his usual. His laptop was on the desk inside, he knew, it would waiting for him to sit down and cruise the world he knew better than the back of his hand. The world he could control, the one place he felt like he was unbeatable.
But instead he forced himself to turn towards the bed and walk over, trying to ignore the way Cougar looked at him from over the edge of the book he'd been reading.
Jensen sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. He pulled off his boots, then his pants and belt, and with a shaking hand he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. In one quick motion he spun around, lifting his legs and lying down on the bed, shoving his head into the half of the pillow Cougar had left for him and closing his eyes tightly.
He felt Cougar slide down, leaning over him to lay the book down beside Jensen's glasses, then Cougar's arm was draped heavily over him and a second later he could feel the heat of Cougar's breath on his face.
Jensen kept his eyes tightly closed, and after a second he pressed his face into the side of Cougar's neck. He didn't feel safer, despite the soft words that were being whispered in his ear.
He could do this. He had to. Nobody seemed to care if he spent his days hyped up on sugar and caffeine, hiding the hours he hadn't slept sitting in front of his computers. But now they were noticing when Cougar had to do the same; downing an entire pot of coffee to get himself going, because he'd spent his night lying awake with Jensen in his arms, fighting back the screams.
Jensen breathed in the scent of Cougar's skin and concentrated on the feel of Cougar's hands. He could sleep here and be safe. He could.
He had to.
He could feel himself shaking, and knew Cougar would be feeling it, too, and resigned himself to lying long hours in bed, waiting.
Maybe tomorrow he would sleep. Maybe tomorrow they both could.