Title : You Can Leave Your Hat On
Fandom : The Losers
Characters : Jensen centric with implied Jensen/Cougar
Rating : PG-13
Written for the prompt : The Losers - Jensen isn't sure if this is a dream or not, but if it is he doesn't ever want to wake up.
Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
You Can Leave Your Hat On
Jensen knows he's a little woozy, on the verge of sleep but not quite there. He also knows he's not alone. Cougar is around somewhere. He's been hovering, checking that Jensen is breathing or something at regular intervals. Jensen, for the record, is breathing . . . adequately. He's not in imminent danger of dying from not breathing, or at least he isn't now the antibiotics and painkillers have kicked in.
So it turns out, bad cold, wet weather stakeouts, falling as he tried to scale a building and getting shot (a graze, it was just a graze!) but the combination isn't good. He'd ended up in hospital getting his arm stitched because the army are strict about that kind of thing – proper medical procedure and all that.
He'd been all set to leave as soon as they let go of him, when someone had noticed the limp – just his luck. He hates being in hospital and it's even worse when he's not REALLY ill. So they x-rayed his leg and yup, it's not pretty but he was right, it's also not broken. Not that that made any difference whatsoever to the evil doctor (Jensen's going to call him Victor because he's a dead ringer for Victor Von Doom from that awful AWFUL Fantastic Four film and he's got the same bedside manner thrown in). He's now got his leg wrapped tightly (too tight, Jensen had whined to Cougar, it was hurting more now than it had before; typically Cougar had quirked an eyebrow and said nothing, the traitor) and elevated and they're talking about bed rest . . . days' worth of bed rest. The bastards!
Then . . . can you believe it? Then they had had the gall to check the rest of him over and find the bruising on his back from where he had fallen and they'd listened to his chest, lungs, whatever and heard a rattle. Well, of course, the rattle couldn't be the fact he'd got a cold, now could it? No, of course it had to be because he'd knocked something loose when he'd fallen like . . . like a . . . Jensen doesn't know and right now, high as a kite on painkillers and antibiotics, he's not absolutely sure he even cares.
So he's dreaming, or thinking, or maybe it's really happening, because that would be truly awesome! With a capital A kind of awesome! Cougar definitely has hidden depths beneath his hat. The lights are dimmed in his room, the door is closed, the strains of Tom Jones are filtering through hidden speakers that were so hidden even Jensen didn't know where they were and usually he's good at spotting that kind of thing.
Cougar is standing before him, slowly grinding his hips in time to the music while undoing the buttons on his shirt, one by one. The anticipation is building. Jensen watches rapt as Cougar pulls his shirt free from the waistband of his trousers, takes his hands up to push it off his shoulders. He gyrates round in a circle, taunting . . . flirting, the familiar half-smile glinting out from beneath his hat.
Jensen wonders if he's actually going to keep going. He hopes so. Dream or not, the view is a good one. He smirks, contemplates offering up some encouragement. He's just about to open his mouth, not sure whether to wolf-whistle or whether to shout something obscene by way of encouragement when . . .
Somebody shakes his arm, calls his name. He opens his eyes and glares at Victor's evil side-kick, Mary . . . He was calling her Mary, because she reminded him very much of the woman who came between Sherlock Holmes and Watson, just like she was coming between him and the very delectable, increasingly naked Cougar right now.
"Concussion, Corporal, you do remember? I told you earlier I would be waking you regularly to check on you. Can you tell me your name?"
Jensen's tempted to say something seriously impolite, but Cougar wouldn't approve and if Cougar doesn't approve then, dream or not, he's not likely to continue with his definitely awesome dance by way of punishing Jensen for not behaving properly. So Jensen sighs dejectedly and answers all her questions. As she finishes tormenting him and tells him to get some rest and she'll come back later, Jensen's head turns and he notices Cougar sitting on the chair beside his bed with his hat on.
"Were you dancing earlier?" Jensen asks.
Cougar frowns as if he's concerned for Jensen's sanity and is actually contemplating calling Nurse Mary, a.k.a. evil dream banisher, back to ruin some more of Jensen's dreams. Jensen waves at him and says, "Yeah, that was what I thought too . . . I mean if you were going to do it, you wouldn't do it here."
"Jensen . . ." Cougar's voice is a softly, worried growl.
"'s okay. I was dreaming . . . You were dancing for me . . . special dancing, you know," Jensen tried to convey with a wiggle of his eyebrows the seductive nature of the dancing, but Cougar just looked disapproving. "Maybe . . . maybe when I get home you could bring my dream to life . . . You could keep your hat on, I wouldn't mind that. . ."
"Get some sleep so you get better and we can go home," Cougar says, without giving Jensen any indication of whether he'd contemplate fulfilling the dream.
Author's Note : Jensen was picturing Cougar dancing Full Monty Style to "You Can Keep Your Hat On" by Tom Jones.