Who You Wish For, 1/1, PG-13
Aug. 31st, 2010 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveTitle: Who You Wish For
Author: james
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Series: set within the Horses of Different Colors universe. While not necessary reading, it does expand on many elements touched upon here.
Notes: written for angst bingo, square 'Supernatural creatures' This is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katbcoll's fault.
Summary: Being a centaur doesn't make things as easy as you might like to think.
He isn't really sure how he's managed to get a free pass his entire adult life, but he thinks maybe it's because the uniform says, quite clearly, that he's here because he was sent, and not because he has any intention of starting a fight.
The other reason would have to be that he's so clearly owned that none of the herd stallions he's ever run across has seen him as a threat.
Jensen doesn't really know what to think about that option, because if anybody actually asked him, he would tell them that yeah, the US Government owns his ass, and thank you he does get regularly screwed but not in a happy fun way. But that isn't like he's owned owned, so really, why would any other stallion look at him and shake their head and dismiss him out of hand, without even asking him where is your daddy.
Jensen chokes a bit on the thought, and he makes a mental note not to look too closely at that one, ever.
The idea that someone owns him makes his skin crawl, makes him want to change into his other form and pound his hooves into the ground and scream at the top of his lungs and get the fuck away from anyone and everything and prove to himself that he is his own man. Centaur.
He's been too long among humans, he knows, because sometimes he looks up from his computer and finds his teammates sprawled around and he realises that he's forgotten, for just a moment. Sometimes it's who he is, sometimes he forgets what they are.
Well, they're his herd, weird and dysfunctional as they are. He has no intention of swapping them out for a herd of fillies who expect him to take charge and be in command and make every single decision. Just, blech. He likes being his own person, and letting Colonel Clay be the one to handle all the hard shit and all Jensen has to do is run his computers and make the tech toys work right and make sure that he doesn't piss the Colonel off to the point he gets his ass booted into--
Crap. Jensen hangs his head, still sitting up on his cot, listening to the metal frame creak every time he shifts. Two feet away Cougar is sacked out on his own cot, hat over his face like the sun is going to crash in and disturb his rest. As if Jensen's loud thinking and restless sitting and computer hacking in the middle of the night don't-- Oh, right. Jensen mentally smacks his forehead. The laptop is open right now, actually, glow of the screen filling the room with an eerie blueish light. Maybe it isn't the sun, but it's bright enough and Jensen should try again to learn how to focus his thoughts on things around him instead of following itself around in circles like colts trying to learn how to race.
But it keeps him from thinking too hard about how maybe the Colonel does own his ass, at least as far as other stallions are concerned, and maybe the way Clay can growl just so, when he's five seconds away from being really irritated is something that snaps Jensen to attention a helluva lot faster than someone actually saying "Corporal, I've given you an order."
But that isn't.. only yeah, okay, so maybe it sort of a little bit is. Jensen honestly hadn't ever thought of it like that, because if the Colonel ever tried to... well, that part about mating and fucking and owning always made him think that it wasn't.
He pauses for a moment to think about the Colonel wanting to fuck him, and he has to physically twist his head to the side trying to picture it and finally he decides that the problem is the Colonel has only ever looked at women that way and Jensen, despite his pink t-shirts, definitely doesn't qualify as feminine.
And while it explains a small portion of his problem, it doesn't come close to resolving it. So, yeah, maybe he gets why no one has ever challenged him to a duel to the death, and why the one time he accidently pissed off that stallion in Italy and Jensen still isn't exactly sure what he did, the guy just looked at the Colonel and the Colonel said he'd take care of it and Jensen didn't have to change forms in the middle of a Italian field and defend himself and his honor and his hide.
Knowing all of this doesn't help, because the Colonel isn't the guy Jensen would like to be owned by. He sneaks another look at Cougar, sound asleep and motionless and apparently unaware -- as always -- of what Jensen is thinking. There's no way he can approach Cougar with that, because the Colonel wouldn't share, and if Jensen is owned then by rights so is Cougar, and it has never worked that way in the history of centaurdom.
Jensen isn't sure centaurdom is a word, but it isn't like he can dig out the dictionary for centaurs to check. He might have a photographic memory like every other centaur on the planet, but it doesn't mean he's omniscient, or has access to all the stuff every other centaur knows, so how is he to know if one of his people invented the word a long time ago and he's using it legitimately, or if he'd just making stuff up again like when he was a kid and his mother and aunts would roll their eyes and pat him on the head and tell him that wouldn't he like to go outside and play for awhile, get some exercise?
And it hardly matters anyway, because who would he ever use the word with? He avoids his own kind, lone stallion with a herd of humans that he belongs to and belongs with and he's in love with one of his peers instead of with the one in the proper chain of command.
He scoots down to lie on the cot, rolling onto his side. He wonders what the Colonel would say, if Jensen told him the truth. All the truth, or even just the smallest slice.
He suspects that if he and Cougar started banging uglies, the Colonel would just ignore them. He's pretty sure that if he held Cougar's hand and called him agapetos then the Colonel would kick his ass.
None of it even touches the question of what Cougar would do if Jensen ever asked. Jensen sighs and rolls onto his back, and closes his eyes. Of all the things that will never happen, he's pretty sure that one is top of the list.
He lets himself begin to drift to sleep, and pauses for a moment, not-quite dozing, and he considers sending up a prayer. He doesn't, because Zeus has a bad habit of actually answering prayers -- vividly, and with frequent personal visits to make sure everything's going smoothly. For various definitions of Divine smoothly, which Jensen has been reassured over again by every centaur he's ever asked, is nothing quite like what the centaurs in question had in mind.
With his luck they'd end up run out of the Army, no longer with any real chain of command, and Jensen would be free to tumble Cougar into his bed without any of them having to fight to the death or argue over who was in charge or have to wear those stupidly painful and annoying army combat boots that might fit human feet well enough, but which Jensen has never felt comfortable in. Throw in a hot chick to distract the Colonel from what Jensen and Cougar might be up to, and it's a recipe for Zeus' strange sense of humour when it comes to answering his kids' requests.
Still, it might be nice to know if he and Cougar stand a chance -- if Cougar likes him that way, if he'd run screaming from the idea of shacking up with a mythological creature.
I'm not asking, Jensen is careful to think as he falls asleep. I'm just wondering if he'll ever love me back.
He seems to feel something like a breeze ruffle through the room, but then Jensen is fast asleep and the next day when they're being given their new assignment to fly down to South America and tag a house to get blown to smithereens, it no longer seems important.
~~~
A year later, he's standing in the middle of nowhere, Mexico, and it's a safe piece of land that no centaur herd owns, and Cougar is looking at him with an expression of wonder, and love, and he's reaching out hesitantly to touch Jensen's flank. Jensen thinks that maybe, just a little, he did sort of ask and yeah, maybe a little more, he's insanely and stupidly grateful.
Author: james
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cougar/Jensen
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Series: set within the Horses of Different Colors universe. While not necessary reading, it does expand on many elements touched upon here.
Notes: written for angst bingo, square 'Supernatural creatures' This is
katbcoll's fault.Summary: Being a centaur doesn't make things as easy as you might like to think.
He isn't really sure how he's managed to get a free pass his entire adult life, but he thinks maybe it's because the uniform says, quite clearly, that he's here because he was sent, and not because he has any intention of starting a fight.
The other reason would have to be that he's so clearly owned that none of the herd stallions he's ever run across has seen him as a threat.
Jensen doesn't really know what to think about that option, because if anybody actually asked him, he would tell them that yeah, the US Government owns his ass, and thank you he does get regularly screwed but not in a happy fun way. But that isn't like he's owned owned, so really, why would any other stallion look at him and shake their head and dismiss him out of hand, without even asking him where is your daddy.
Jensen chokes a bit on the thought, and he makes a mental note not to look too closely at that one, ever.
The idea that someone owns him makes his skin crawl, makes him want to change into his other form and pound his hooves into the ground and scream at the top of his lungs and get the fuck away from anyone and everything and prove to himself that he is his own man. Centaur.
He's been too long among humans, he knows, because sometimes he looks up from his computer and finds his teammates sprawled around and he realises that he's forgotten, for just a moment. Sometimes it's who he is, sometimes he forgets what they are.
Well, they're his herd, weird and dysfunctional as they are. He has no intention of swapping them out for a herd of fillies who expect him to take charge and be in command and make every single decision. Just, blech. He likes being his own person, and letting Colonel Clay be the one to handle all the hard shit and all Jensen has to do is run his computers and make the tech toys work right and make sure that he doesn't piss the Colonel off to the point he gets his ass booted into--
Crap. Jensen hangs his head, still sitting up on his cot, listening to the metal frame creak every time he shifts. Two feet away Cougar is sacked out on his own cot, hat over his face like the sun is going to crash in and disturb his rest. As if Jensen's loud thinking and restless sitting and computer hacking in the middle of the night don't-- Oh, right. Jensen mentally smacks his forehead. The laptop is open right now, actually, glow of the screen filling the room with an eerie blueish light. Maybe it isn't the sun, but it's bright enough and Jensen should try again to learn how to focus his thoughts on things around him instead of following itself around in circles like colts trying to learn how to race.
But it keeps him from thinking too hard about how maybe the Colonel does own his ass, at least as far as other stallions are concerned, and maybe the way Clay can growl just so, when he's five seconds away from being really irritated is something that snaps Jensen to attention a helluva lot faster than someone actually saying "Corporal, I've given you an order."
But that isn't.. only yeah, okay, so maybe it sort of a little bit is. Jensen honestly hadn't ever thought of it like that, because if the Colonel ever tried to... well, that part about mating and fucking and owning always made him think that it wasn't.
He pauses for a moment to think about the Colonel wanting to fuck him, and he has to physically twist his head to the side trying to picture it and finally he decides that the problem is the Colonel has only ever looked at women that way and Jensen, despite his pink t-shirts, definitely doesn't qualify as feminine.
And while it explains a small portion of his problem, it doesn't come close to resolving it. So, yeah, maybe he gets why no one has ever challenged him to a duel to the death, and why the one time he accidently pissed off that stallion in Italy and Jensen still isn't exactly sure what he did, the guy just looked at the Colonel and the Colonel said he'd take care of it and Jensen didn't have to change forms in the middle of a Italian field and defend himself and his honor and his hide.
Knowing all of this doesn't help, because the Colonel isn't the guy Jensen would like to be owned by. He sneaks another look at Cougar, sound asleep and motionless and apparently unaware -- as always -- of what Jensen is thinking. There's no way he can approach Cougar with that, because the Colonel wouldn't share, and if Jensen is owned then by rights so is Cougar, and it has never worked that way in the history of centaurdom.
Jensen isn't sure centaurdom is a word, but it isn't like he can dig out the dictionary for centaurs to check. He might have a photographic memory like every other centaur on the planet, but it doesn't mean he's omniscient, or has access to all the stuff every other centaur knows, so how is he to know if one of his people invented the word a long time ago and he's using it legitimately, or if he'd just making stuff up again like when he was a kid and his mother and aunts would roll their eyes and pat him on the head and tell him that wouldn't he like to go outside and play for awhile, get some exercise?
And it hardly matters anyway, because who would he ever use the word with? He avoids his own kind, lone stallion with a herd of humans that he belongs to and belongs with and he's in love with one of his peers instead of with the one in the proper chain of command.
He scoots down to lie on the cot, rolling onto his side. He wonders what the Colonel would say, if Jensen told him the truth. All the truth, or even just the smallest slice.
He suspects that if he and Cougar started banging uglies, the Colonel would just ignore them. He's pretty sure that if he held Cougar's hand and called him agapetos then the Colonel would kick his ass.
None of it even touches the question of what Cougar would do if Jensen ever asked. Jensen sighs and rolls onto his back, and closes his eyes. Of all the things that will never happen, he's pretty sure that one is top of the list.
He lets himself begin to drift to sleep, and pauses for a moment, not-quite dozing, and he considers sending up a prayer. He doesn't, because Zeus has a bad habit of actually answering prayers -- vividly, and with frequent personal visits to make sure everything's going smoothly. For various definitions of Divine smoothly, which Jensen has been reassured over again by every centaur he's ever asked, is nothing quite like what the centaurs in question had in mind.
With his luck they'd end up run out of the Army, no longer with any real chain of command, and Jensen would be free to tumble Cougar into his bed without any of them having to fight to the death or argue over who was in charge or have to wear those stupidly painful and annoying army combat boots that might fit human feet well enough, but which Jensen has never felt comfortable in. Throw in a hot chick to distract the Colonel from what Jensen and Cougar might be up to, and it's a recipe for Zeus' strange sense of humour when it comes to answering his kids' requests.
Still, it might be nice to know if he and Cougar stand a chance -- if Cougar likes him that way, if he'd run screaming from the idea of shacking up with a mythological creature.
I'm not asking, Jensen is careful to think as he falls asleep. I'm just wondering if he'll ever love me back.
He seems to feel something like a breeze ruffle through the room, but then Jensen is fast asleep and the next day when they're being given their new assignment to fly down to South America and tag a house to get blown to smithereens, it no longer seems important.
~~~
A year later, he's standing in the middle of nowhere, Mexico, and it's a safe piece of land that no centaur herd owns, and Cougar is looking at him with an expression of wonder, and love, and he's reaching out hesitantly to touch Jensen's flank. Jensen thinks that maybe, just a little, he did sort of ask and yeah, maybe a little more, he's insanely and stupidly grateful.