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Cougar decided that Jensen probably did it without thinking.
That in itself didn't say much, however, since there were several things that Jensen did without conscious thought. Like his singing, tapping his fingers against any solid — or not so solid — surface he could find, or always placing his mugs with the handle angled to the left. But some of them were weirder than others. They could also be so deeply ingrained and instinctual that he not only failed to reflect on doing them, but seemed entirely unaware of why.
His desire for skin on skin contact was one of those.
Well, skin on skin contact with Cougar, to be more precise.
Cougar had never seen Jensen attempt it with Pooch, Clay, or — God forbid — Roque. That would probably end badly and Cougar would hate to have to incapacitate or hurt Roque for attacking Jensen. Never mind that it would technically be Jensen's own fault if Roque tried to gut him for inappropriate touching.
Cougar had never claimed not to be partial.
But there was never a need to intervene since Cougar was the only one that Jensen did it to, and he wasn't exactly against it. Granted, the first couple of times had been somewhat of a shock, until he realized that it was just another part of Jensen's affectionate, tactile personality. And it wasn't like Cougar couldn't understand where it came from.
Jensen craved closeness and recognition — to know that he wasn't alone and that there were things in his surroundings that could ground him.
It didn't take long at all for Cougar to realize that he was one of those things.
They had known each other for a while when the touching first started happening. It was just simple things at the beginning, like a lingering hand on Cougar's arm or Jensen leaning in closer than necessary when he decided to be obnoxious and read over Cougar's shoulder. The touches made sense, often with layers of clothes in between, and while Cougar noticed, he saw no reason to make them stop. He had no aversion to being touched, especially not by someone like Jensen, who did it out of genuine attachment.
As the months passed, the touches started changing.
They remained practical in nature and the shift was gradual enough that Cougar didn't notice it right away. Not until Jensen was already gravitating towards him in most situations, always choosing the seat next to him or standing closer than most others would dare.
It was as if he was trying to become a part of Cougar through osmosis.
The touches grew in number as well. Since they were already in such close proximity, it was easy for Jensen to give a nudge here or a gentle tug there. There were still no noticeably unnecessary touches and Cougar still allowed them, but he was also acutely aware of the decreasing distance between them.
It caused a bit of a dilemma.
Cougar liked Jensen — he was a reliable soldier, a good friend, and a very intriguing person in general — but he wasn't sure what it meant, if anything at all. Jensen was moving steadily closer, either blissfully ignorant or just too happy to care about what it might look like from someone else's perspective.
Cougar suspected that it was probably a bit of both, since Jensen didn't seem the least bit concerned or inclined to stop, even if the team was beginning to notice.
Clay raised an eyebrow when Jensen dodged under the brim of Cougar's hat and placed his chin on Cougar's shoulder, trying to sweet-talk his way to more ice cream. Roque frowned in confusion the time Jensen spent five minutes running his fingers through Cougar's hair during one of their missions, carefully picking out the twigs and leaves that had gotten stuck. Pooch shook his head — his smile exasperated but fond — when Jensen insisted on resting his head in Cougar's lap, whistling to himself while playing on his Nintendo DS.
It was an adjustment for all of them, just how much Jensen liked to touch Cougar. Well, everyone except Jensen, who either didn't notice that he was doing it in the first place or didn't care enough to stop.
A part of that had to be that Cougar didn't actually dislike it. He had no doubt in his mind that if he started resisting or dodging the touches, Jensen would back off. Jensen might be occasionally clueless and a bit uneducated as far as social convention went, but he wasn't inconsiderate. He would never inconvenience Cougar if he could help it, especially when it involved something as intimate as the touches Jensen offered.
But Cougar didn't really mind. He'd been hesitant at first, but he could see clear as day just how much calmer it made Jensen to have Cougar within arm's reach. The others did too, opting not to intervene — or maybe they just figured that Cougar knew what he was doing. That might not be strictly true, but, like with most other things, it never actually showed when Cougar wasn't in total control.
It was remarkable how steady one could seem as long as you acted as if you were.
The touches happened all the time, no matter where they were, and, little by little, Cougar became quite addicted to them. He didn't ask for them or seek them out, but he could feel himself relaxing when he had the solid weight of Jensen next to him, especially if they had been separated for long periods of time.
Cougar didn't like being dependent on other people, but it was difficult to stop.
It got even worse when the skin on skin contact started happening, taking their weird, co-dependent relationship one step further. Jensen seemed absolutely fascinated by Cougar's skin and it was no small miracle that he didn't try to lick it at some point.
Although Cougar knew better than to assume that Jensen hadn't thought about it at least once.
As it were, the casual touches with layers of clothes in between became casual touches that more often than not involved Jensen's skin against his. Cougar couldn't even say that it was Jensen's fingers against his skin — not when Jensen decided to rub his cheek against Cougar's hand because it had been conveniently placed on the back of the couch, right next to his face.
Cougar startled at the contact, almost pulling away, until he saw the blissful look on Jensen's face. It was weird to have Jensen butt his face against Cougar's hand like a particularly affectionate cat, but Cougar would be lying if he claimed to have anything against it. He was incredibly fond of a happy Jensen and if things like these made Jensen happy, well, then he could live with it being a bit weird.
Most of the touches were beginning to head in that direction anyway.
Like how Jensen carefully explored every inch of Cougar's hands with his fingertips, as if he wanted to commit the feel of them to memory. He was smart enough not to do it in public and never tried to hold hands or the like, but when they were more or less alone — sitting on the couch, or after Jensen had invited himself into Cougar's room — he would claim the hand Cougar had least use of at the time and study it. Intently. He seemed so incredibly fascinated that Cougar didn't have the heart to pull away.
Or tell him that it tickled.
Jensen sought more and more opportunities where he could touch Cougar's bare skin, as if he needed the contact. As if some fundamental part of him just couldn't help it, always looking for ways to get closer.
Eventually, Jensen got daring enough to brush his fingers against Cougar's neck. It seemed to become a habit of his when he happened to walk past and Cougar was within easy reach, as if Jensen just wanted to let him know that he was there. And Cougar could admit that he actually appreciated the reassurance it offered. The touch was gentle and careful rather than assertive, but still unmistakably intimate.
It was, perhaps, more intimate than their relationship allowed.
But, at the same time, Cougar knew that Jensen didn't see the touches as sexual advances. Whether or not he was attracted to Cougar was difficult to tell, but the touches were comforting and familiar rather than attempts to arouse. That could, of course, be pretty exciting all on its own — and Cougar would be lying if he didn't admit that he felt a spark of lust at times — but Jensen never hinted at wanting more.
Cougar wasn't sure when he had started wondering if Jensen did. Or come to the conclusion that he didn't mind if that was the case. Usually, he did his best to ignore any and all thoughts heading in that direction, for both of their sakes.
But it was increasingly difficult to do so when Jensen's touches grew increasingly bold. He seemed fascinated by every sliver of Cougar's skin that he could reasonably reach, never missing an opportunity to do so. Jensen clearly had nothing untoward in mind — the contact was founded in genuine curiosity — but that didn't make it any less distracting.
Like when Cougar wore ripped jeans. Sooner or later, Jensen's fingers would find a way inside the tears and Cougar wasn't entirely sure why. It was his knees for heaven's sake, which weren't particularly fascinating anatomically, but Jensen obviously didn't care. Maybe he just wanted to feel Cougar's skin against his fingertips, because he sought it out, time and time again, content as long as he had that small, grounding contact.
It was a little bit unnerving — would have tickled, too, if Jensen had insisted on moving his fingers — but also surprisingly endearing. It said a lot about Jensen that he did something like that without thinking, drawn to the warmth and intimacy. He was so simple to please sometimes, to the point where two fingers slipped inside the gap at Cougar's knees could make him look utterly serene.
Cougar didn't know how he was supposed to tell Jensen that he couldn't. How could anyone want to ruin Jensen's happiness?
It was weird, yes, and the team looked at them oddly from time to time, but it wasn't bad. Cougar didn't dislike it. In fact, he began to like it a little more than recommended. Having Jensen close was comforting. It gave Cougar impulses he barely managed to curb, sure, lest they cross whatever hazy line they were toeing otherwise. He wasn't against taking things further but he couldn't be sure that Jensen felt the same, and asking felt intrusive.
So he never brought it up, partly because of politeness and partly because of dread. He didn't want to ask if Jensen was interested in something sexual or romantic, have him say no, and then pull back. Cougar was as addicted to the touching as Jensen was and he didn't want to lose it.
He didn't want to ruin their friendship.
But his attraction was easy enough to hide, thankfully enough. Some days it was a struggle to have Jensen so close without being allowed to act on his urges, but, most of the time, it was just like before. Except a whole lot more intimate, which wasn't without its perks.
A clear benefit of all the touching was that Jensen became highly susceptible to it as a mean of calming him down. During a mission or at home — a steady touch always calmed him.
Like the time when Jensen had been a fraction of a second too late to stop Pooch from getting shot, and couldn't settle while they waited for the emergency evac. Pooch would live — Cougar had made sure of that — but Jensen's shoulders were still tense with guilt. He paced restlessly, eyes downcast and hands clenched tightly into fists.
Cougar didn't need Clay's subtle nod to know that he was one of the few who could fix it. He was already moving to cut Jensen's pacing short. Cougar ignored Jensen's slight flinch — he was so tightly wound that he probably couldn't help it — and reached out, his fingers settling against the bare skin on Jensen's neck, his thumb brushing just under Jensen's jaw.
Jensen swallowed.
Cougar didn't say anything — he didn't have to. He just caught Jensen's gaze and held it, steady and grounding, until Jensen was able to suck in a stuttering breath and his shoulders slumped, finally uncoiling.
It happened back at home, too, when Jensen had one of his unhealthy hyperactive episodes, high on caffeine, sugar, and any other substances he might have laid his hands on. The others usually gave Jensen a wide berth on those occasions, but when Cougar noticed that Jensen was close to hitting supersonic, he always intervened — for the sake of everyone involved.
Sometimes it was a firm grip around Jensen's arm — preferably a bare arm, since skin on skin contact seemed to transfer better — and sometimes he had to literally place himself in Jensen's path, knowing full well how dangerous that could be. But Jensen always stopped. He screeched to a halt, grinning excitedly, never pushing Cougar out of the way or even stepping around him to proceed with whatever project he was involved in at the moment.
No matter how hyperactive Jensen got, his brain always managed to snap to attention when Cougar came close. He would drop off mid-conversation if he noticed that Cougar was trying to catch his attention. He might not always want to do what Cougar told him to — there were a couple of times when he refused to eat and rest just to be childish and defiant — but it was an instinct he couldn't seem to control.
Cougar was probably a tiny bit too fascinated by the whole thing.
He had power over Jensen and they both knew it. Not that Cougar would ever try to hurt Jensen with it — he couldn't even bear the thought. It made Jensen vulnerable, yes, but Cougar wasn't stupid enough not to acknowledge that he was in just as deep as Jensen was.
He was just better at hiding it.
Nothing demonstrated this better than the months following the mission in Bolivia. Those confusing, suffocating months spent in hiding, trying to deal with the loss of twenty-five innocent children and their lives as they knew them.
Jensen stopped touching him.
It might have been because they were both too caught up in the guilt and trauma, or maybe Jensen just didn't want to. Either way, Cougar noticed. He absolutely loathed it.
Jensen was still there, hovering close more often than not, but he didn't touch. No soft nudges or playful exploration of Cougar's hands. They no longer sat close enough that there was always some kind of contact between them, be it tangled feet or brushing knees. For the first time in what felt like forever, Jensen was out of reach. He was still there — warm, solid, and real — but they might as well have been miles apart for all the good it did.
Cougar knew he was partly to blame. He hadn't shown that Jensen was welcome and, considering how tense they all were, Jensen probably assumed that he wasn't. It was a delicate situation, most of them angry and grieving, and Jensen wasn't inconsiderate enough to breach whatever walls Cougar had built — not without permission.
And Cougar didn't give it.
He needed the space, just as much as he missed the support. He hated being alone but took comfort in solitude, trying to wrap his head around the grief and the guilt. It was confusing to be battling with two impulses that were so fundamentally different.
Weeks passed, during which they never touched and Cougar barely spoke. He knew that Jensen didn't blame him, but it was clearly a strain on their relationship nonetheless. Cougar wasn't even sure exactly what kind of relationship they had — it seemed far too intimate and instinctual to be friendship — but now was clearly not the time to question it.
Clay was busy hunting after Max, while Roque was getting more and more agitated. Pooch held on as best as he could and Jensen tried to keep them all afloat with his cheerful jokes, as usual. Only Cougar could tell that the quips weren't as carefree and effortless as before. He could see that Jensen was feeling the pressure just as much as the rest of them — maybe more.
Cougar watched it with a detached kind of fascination and it took him far too long to realize that Jensen was spiraling.
It wasn't obvious. Jensen managed to hide a lot of it, but, eventually, Cougar saw that Jensen's reluctance to touch wasn't just because of Cougar's boundaries. It looked like maybe Jensen had forgotten how. He was pulling in on himself, shutting things inside in a way that wasn't healthy for someone as vibrant and loud as Jensen, who needed outlets for his thoughts and ideas.
Cougar wasn't so far gone that he couldn't see that Jensen was losing his grip — partly because everything that used to ground him wasn't there anymore. Not even Cougar was quite as close as he needed to be.
It was a surprisingly easy fix, though, which Cougar was grateful for.
All it took was his hand against the back of Jensen's neck, when Cougar found him so caught up in his computer that he didn't even hear the door open. Jensen did that alarmingly often nowadays, leaving himself open and vulnerable — as if he was too tired to actually care about anyone sneaking up on him.
Jensen tensed under his hand and Cougar wasn't sure if he imagined the tremble he felt against his palm. Jensen seemed to be vibrating with barely curbed energy, but not the positive kind. He had to be close to bursting with hopelessness and frustration.
For a couple of seconds, everything seemed to still. Jensen was stiff and unmoving, while Cougar let his hand remain where it was; a warm, solid weight against Jensen's neck.
But eventually — inevitably — Jensen began to unravel, yielding to the unspoken comfort Cougar offered. Jensen's breath hitched and Cougar couldn't say for sure who moved first. Maybe Cougar pulled or maybe Jensen turned all on his own, but it wasn't until he had his face buried against Cougar's chest that either of them relaxed.
Cougar's grip shifted to accommodate the change in angle, but he didn't let go. The short hairs at Jensen's nape were soft under his thumb and Jensen shivered when Cougar gently rubbed the tense muscles he found there.
Initiating physical contact didn't come as naturally to Cougar as it did to Jensen — Cougar touched mostly due to practice — but with Jensen it was instinctive. Wrapping his other arm around Jensen's shoulders felt completely reasonable. Hugging him close while Jensen made attempts to breathe in Cougar's very essence made perfect sense.
It was intimate — more so than most things they did — but, considering the circumstances, both of them needed it.
Jensen got slightly better after that. It was a slow process, but he got better.
He was cautious and somewhat insecure, but back on the right track. They didn't talk about it — not the dead children or the baggage they both carried — but they didn't have to. They were back in each other's orbit and Cougar was finally stable enough to welcome the touches he had temporarily shied away from.
The hectic days during which they chased down Max offered yet another brief pause in their routine, but it was less dramatic than Bolivia. Still significant, but in a different way.
The day of Roque's betrayal and death was traumatizing enough that Cougar didn't mind when Jensen forgot to move over to his own bed before falling asleep that night. Cougar knew Jensen did it on purpose. He wanted the closeness and security it offered and probably suspected that Cougar did as well, even if Cougar would never admit it.
Sleeping with Jensen pressed up close felt a lot more natural than it probably should have, but that wasn't exactly a surprise. Few things in his and Jensen's relationship could surprise Cougar anymore.
It did give him a couple of things to think about, though.
He still didn't know if Jensen had any interest in a romantic relationship. He couldn't quite tell if the touches were sexual in nature. They could be — they held enough affection and gentleness — but it was more difficult to pinpoint intent.
Cougar couldn't help lying there, looking at Jensen's sleeping face, as if he thought that would reveal the answer to him.
Well, that and the fact that Jensen had a tendency to look absolutely adorable when he slept. But that was neither here nor there.
Jensen had surprisingly long and thick eyelashes. It was easy to see when they were fanned against his cheekbones like this, and his glasses weren't in the way. He looked so peaceful it was almost painful to watch, since Cougar knew that Jensen couldn't be feeling all that serene when he was awake.
Roque's betrayal had rattled them all and it wouldn't be easy to swallow.
There was no doubt in his mind that Jensen would pull through. He always did, if not for himself, then for Jess and Beth. Or for Cougar. Jensen was very fond of Cougar. They had a relationship unlike any other and, some days, Cougar knew that was more than enough.
Did he really need for this to move beyond friendship?
Cougar was grateful for the trust and camaraderie he shared with Pooch and Clay, but it couldn't possibly compare to what he and Jensen shared.
Cougar didn't know what he would do without Jensen.
It seemed both selfish and reckless to endanger what they had just because he felt that warm, tight clench in his gut. What they had was so much more important than that — but, at the same time, he couldn't help dreaming. He couldn't help yearning.
He wondered what kissing Jensen would feel like.
It probably wasn't the kind of thing he should ponder while lying next to his sleeping best friend, but he couldn't help it. And he doubted that he would stop wanting it anytime soon.
It would be wrong to call the yearning a burden or even something Cougar wanted to get rid of, but it did cause some minor complications. It was frustrating to want something he wasn't sure he could have.
While he was fairly certain that Jensen was open both to male and female companionship, there were no guarantees that Cougar was included within the category of people Jensen was attracted to. They had been living practically on top of each other for years and Jensen had never indicated that he wanted anything more than what they already shared. Jensen was either shockingly good at hiding it or didn't feel the tension at all.
Cougar sure did, though.
And it certainly didn't stop when they went to New Hampshire so that Jensen could see his family, while Pooch and Jolene got some well-deserved time together. More often than not, Jensen was with Beth, as if trying to make up for the time she had thought that her uncle was dead, but — when evening came and Beth was sent to bed — Jensen usually came drifting back to Cougar. He always did, sooner or later.
It was as if he was constantly tuned in to where Cougar was, be they rooms or entire cities apart, and following the directions was as easy as breathing. He always returned, slipping back into place next to Cougar, as if he had never left.
It was comforting to know that Cougar was a firm point in Jensen's life — someone he relied on and trusted so completely — but it also made Cougar's chest clench with overwhelming fondness. It was so reassuring that it hurt.
Cougar felt the pull towards Jensen more and more strongly for each week that passed since Roque's death, in part because the team was still considered dead and had to spend most of their time in hiding. That meant only each other for company which, in Cougar's case, consisted of having Jensen in his personal space most hours of the day. It was not only risky but downright foolish to seek out other people, even just for one night.
Not to mention that Cougar wasn't particularly interested. That alone was proof enough of how far gone he was.
No, he stayed there with Jensen, hidden away in whatever safe house they had found for the week, reading or watching the movies and TV shows Jensen illegally downloaded. Clay and Aisha were looking into ways to locate Max, still riding high on vengeance and fury. Cougar had debated offering to help, but, in the long run, Clay and Aisha had more contacts and would probably be more successful without him there to distract them.
Besides, Cougar had Jensen to look after.
Ever since they left New Hampshire, Jensen had become even more affectionate than usual, which was a fairly expected reaction to missing his family. The fact that it meant that Cougar often woke in the mornings with Jensen sleeping soundly next to him, snoring softly and with an arm flung around Cougar's waist, well — that was maybe less expected.
Not unwelcome, but a little bit trying on Cougar's self-control.
He couldn't count the times he simply closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, rather than getting up as he usually would. Jensen was making him both lazy and far too comfortable for his own good. But the blissful smile on Jensen's lips when they eventually did get up made it more than worth it.
Cougar couldn't help wondering how many people would do things like these and still claim that they were friends, not lovers. Or married. Well, both, really. The only steps they hadn't taken were having a joint account and the actual marriage ceremony.
It was pretty ridiculous, once Cougar thought about it.
So maybe he couldn't be blamed for being distracted, especially when he found himself sitting on the couch in the safe house with Jensen's head in his lap. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the ease with which they did it still baffled Cougar sometimes.
Jensen had settled in, apparently planning to stay there for a while, his laptop supported against his raised knees. Without thinking, Cougar's hand wandered into Jensen's hair. It was incredibly soft, but he knew that already from previous experiences. Jensen's only response was to close his eyes for a couple of seconds while letting out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying the attention he was getting. Jensen was like that most of the time.
"What's on your mind, Cougs?" Jensen's voice was hushed, as if he didn't want to break the stillness of the moment.
Cougar hesitated, even if his fingers kept wandering through Jensen's hair. Blue, blue eyes looked up at him — open, trusting, and curious. One could so easily mistake it for anticipation. But maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?
They were practically a couple anyway, in everything but name and that one, final step. And Cougar was fairly certain that even if Jensen wanted to take it, he still wouldn't. Jensen was too considerate and careful about Cougar's boundaries, and not quite as bold as one might believe at first glance.
Cougar didn't actually make a decision to lean down and press a soft, tender kiss to Jensen's lips. It just felt like the obvious thing to do; like something he should have been doing for years already. It came naturally, like so many other things between them.
The kiss was fairly brief for all its sweetness and, when Cougar pulled back, it took a couple of seconds before Jensen opened his eyes again. They were a little bit wider than usual and it didn't take long before a big grin spread on his lips.
"Awesome." He sounded stupidly happy. "I can live with that."
Cougar gave him a crooked smile, fingers continuing to comb through Jensen's hair — to Jensen's obvious delight.
He caught Cougar's other hand, effortlessly lacing their fingers together. Skin on skin. He rested their joined hands against his chest, looking up at Cougar with a steadily growing spark of mischief in his eyes.
"Does this mean I won't have to sneak into your bed anymore? I mean, much as I enjoy the challenge of managing without waking you, it would be a lot easier if we could just go to bed together — for more than one reason." He waggled his eyebrows, managing to look like a complete idiot. Still adorable, though, because this was Jensen and he was endearing even when he was being a dork.
Cougar snorted on a laugh. He should have known that Jensen would take the whole thing in a stride.
"You are impossible," Cougar informed him, barely holding back his amusement.
Jensen's grin was bright and carefree. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."
Cougar exhaled slowly, squeezing Jensen's fingers and embracing the comforting warmth growing in his chest.
"I do," he replied.