sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Cougar Alvarez
WHERE: Bedroom, Bungalow #22
WHEN: September 25th
OPEN TO: Jake Jensen
WARNINGS: Adult Content likely within
STATUS: Closed

After years spent being the closest thing the Losers had to a doctor, it's hard to let go of old habits. Cougar's been making trades -- giving up some of his collection, but receiving other gifts -- and he's trying to stockpile himself the items he's most often needed in the field. It also means that he's been keeping an eye on everyone's nutrition and physical state. While he's placed the house on rations to conserve meat, he knows he's keeping them up fine to intake to match outtake.

Where he thinks he's falling down, though, is the actual physical state of people's bodies. This is what he realizes when they're settling down for the night and Cougar clasps Jake on the shoulder, feeling nothing but knots and tension beneath his fingers.

It makes sense, of course. They do nothing but physical labour through every single day. He also doesn't think that anyone is stretching or doing the kind of exercises to keep loose and limber. Honestly, he's surprised no one has strained anything so far.

"Bed," he informs Jake sharply, because from the feel of him, he's one bad pull away from throwing out his shoulder or his back. While he wouldn't begrudge the man a need to rest, Cougar would rather avoid it all together. He'll check with Veronica later, make sure she's doing some proper stretches, maybe even mandate yoga in the mornings.

Right now, all he can do is try and ease some of the physical strain (and maybe then acknowledge that he's got his own issues to work out; it would be very, very nice if he could find a foam roll, but he doubts that the natural resources will provide that to him).

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Cougar's cheeks are a flushed pink, something that shines through even the patchy mess that his beard has become. He tries to keep it tame and neat, but the trouble is that without a proper razor, he can only do so much. Grinning, he can tell that he's definitely having an effect on Jake, which makes his own heart beat rapidly. He leans his head right into Jake's touch, giving a soft purr like a cat, bearing in so he can place his lips against Jake's jaw.

"I want you to tell me what you want," he says, words slow and heavy. "Or I can start. You," he says with a point before locking his knees around Jake's hips, rolling them until he's on the bottom, arching a brow pointedly at Jake. "On top."

Seeing Cougar like this makes Jake wonder what he'd looked like as a teenager. With his hair cut shorter and that almost innocent flush to his cheeks, he looks at least a decade younger than he is. More than that, even, because Jake knew him almost a decade ago, and even all the way back then, Cougar'd had that kind of air of authority that screamed 'I am an adult and I can handle my own shit' that Jake has never quite managed to cultivate.

Luckily, Cougar rolling them over manages to derail Jake's runaway train of thought, and he's left peering down at his team mate (boyfriend?), a little surprised by their new position.

"You just don't want to do any work," he accuses, shifting his weight a little so he can lean on both his elbows so he won't crush Cougar beneath him. "Lazy." Never mind that he himself had been incredibly lazy for the last twenty minutes, just lying there as Cougar pummeled his back into submission.

"Or I want you to fuck me," is his quip in Spanish, grinning up at Jake as he works his hips in a slow, sinuous move that rolls them in figure eights, staring down at all the clothes he's still wearing before giving Jake a pointed look and reaching up to pull Jake's underwear down around his knees, tipping his head to the side to properly study his cock as a romantic partner and not just someone who's assessing his options.

This does, however, raise a problem. "Maybe not," he says, giving Jake a long look. "Lube?" And the unspoken condoms? is attached.

Okay, he may not speak much Spanish, but he does know what "fuck" sounds like, and he can't help the blush that springs to his cheeks. It's pretty ridiculous, actually, since Cougar has his hand on Jake's dick, but whatever. He's a ridiculous person.

"You know, you're a little overdressed for this party," he complains when Cougar shoves his boxers down his legs. It doesn't stop him from shifting to try and wriggle out of them, though, because nakey time is the best time, in his opinion. If he could get away with it, he'd wear as little clothing as the weather allowed, but people tended to frown on that kind of thing. Which was ridiculous.

When Cougar asks for lube, he pulls a face. "Uh, I don't have any..." And he certainly doesn't have condoms. He hasn't gotten a gift box since Baby, and he's not really complaining or anything, but apparently nobody is trying to facilitate their boning by providing prophylactics.

He moves his hand to give time for Jake to get fully naked, taking a long time to appreciate the sight above him, while he weighs out his options. "My last test, says I'm clean," he offers, because he had been sure to get one after Bolivia and the women there, just to make sure that he hadn't picked anything up. The lube, though, that's going to be difficult.

His gaze slides to the bit of orange oil and he gives Jake a shrug and a look that says they could, but then the both of them might smell like an orange grove. Plus, they would only have enough to do this once. "I will pray for something more," he insists, but still reaches for the little vial.

"Undress me," he orders, as he moves to push his hands above his hand and the little vial dropped by his shoulder.

"I know." Jake had always kept obsessive tabs on the members of their team, hacking into their emails and their medical records alike without a single thought to their privacy. He needed to know everything about them in order to protect them, and he refuses to feel bad about that. "I'm clean too," he adds somewhat unnecessarily, since it's not like he's been going around fucking a bunch of strangers.

The little bottle of oil is very interesting, but he'd thought Cougar was gifted it for another, more pedestrian reason. Using it as lube probably went against its intended purpose, but...

Manhandling Cougar out of his clothes takes some concentration, since he doesn't want to tug at his stitches or spill the oil anywhere, but eventually he gets his shirt yanked off and drops it somewhere off the bed, taking a moment to bend down and press a nipping little kiss to the Sacred Heart tattoo Cougar has on his chest before reaching for the waist of his pants.

Cougar raises his brow as if to question Jake about that level of prying, the question of what else he knows on the tip of his tongue, though he lets that slide. Still, it's good to know that they've both got a clean bill of health, so condoms won't be an issue since Cougar doubts he's going to knock Jake up anytime soon.

He's only too happy to help Jake along in his task, lifting his arms frantically as he sits up, lifting his hips off the bed while letting out a sharp sigh of pleasure at the nip as he grins, hand tangling in Jake's longer hair. "I like this," he says, punctuating his like with a sharp tug. "Very convenient."

Jake gives Cougar as innocent a look as he possibly could to stem any further questions. It's not like it makes much difference here, since he doesn't exactly have an internet connection, but he had considered his snooping necessary at the time, and he still considers it to have been necessary.

It would suck if an argument about internet privacy derailed them having sex, though.

He huffs a laugh when Cougar tugs at his hair, shivering a little because of it. "I know you like it," he replies. "You keep staring at me."

"You noticed," Cougar says with a smirk, enjoying the way that Jake looks with his longer hair. It gives him a slightly older air, just a little more mature. "I could hold on all day, ride you until you're hair screamed from pain." He likes the idea of out but today, he wants to be on the bottom.

"Are you going to prepare me?" Cougar asks, not losing Jake's eye contact for a moment.