This stupid fucking piece of shit axe won't get loose from the stump, and Jake finds himself struggling with it like a complete fucking moron. He feels so stupid. Cougar might say he likes guys too, but it's one thing to idly admire the play of muscles beneath someone's skin, and something else entirely to want Jake. He shouldn't have been surprised that Cougar dug his heels in the way he did. Who is he kidding? He's good enough to look at, but not much else. He knows that. He's always known that.

"Don't touch me," he snaps, shrugging to dislodge Cougar's hand on the back of his neck. He doesn't want contact right now, he wants to be alone.

Finally, the axe comes free and he hefts it up to rest it against his shoulder, turning just enough that he can sort of see Cougar standing there with the dog in his arms, but not enough that he can't just leave at any second.

"No, Cougs," he says quietly, looking at the dog instead of at Cougar's face. "Everyone likes you. They always have." Sighing, he turns away again and starts off towards the edge of the forest, his shoulders hunched defensively, fingers white-knuckled around the handle of the axe. "I'll be back in, like, an hour."