I'm not entirely sure where this thing is going, but I was half dead from lack of sleep at 4am and Jensen walked up and started yelling in my ear, telling me about this awesome night he had. He wouldn't shut up until I wrote it all down. That boy can be one whiny bitch, when he wants to be.

This may or may not turn into a multi-chapter fic, dealing with each of The Losers individually. It may stop with Jensen. It may even turn into a short Cougar/Jensen romance. I really have no idea. I can only write what Jensen and Cougar tell me to.

Also, I feel I have a problem with OOC-ness. Tell me what you guys think.

Disclaimer:

I don't own The Losers. If I did, I'd have Cougar and Jensen chained to my bed and never let them leave. That is all.

Jensen had never been all that good at handling his alcohol. This was one thing that was known as a universal truth. So it was rather important that when he did decide to drink, someone stuck with him, at least until he passed out. That way he didn't do anything to get himself arrested, hurt, or killed. However, one thing none of the Losers could stop him from doing, regardless of his state of sobriety, was keep him from saying something stupid.

This was also known as a universal truth.

And about as futile as trying to stop a force of nature.

So when he did get drunk off his ass, it would usually end with a story that the Losers can laugh at for a long time afterwards. Jensen was ok with this. He didn't mind being a source of humor in their usually depressing lifestyle of being stuck where they were, with crappy jobs, hotel rooms, and no family to go home to. But there were a few times, just a few, when Jensen wished he'd just shut his damn mouth.

Jensen woke up that morning, the same as most other mornings: face down in his bed, opening his eyes to stare at the gaudy floral print of the hotel sheets. What was different about this morning from the others, was that he could see Cougar on the bed next to him. The other man was fully clothed (thank God, that would have been weird otherwise) and sitting propped up against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest, and his hat pulled down over his eyes, apparently still sleeping. Jensen's hangover kicked in not too long after that particular observation. He groaned quietly, and clapped a hand over his eyes to ward off the sunlight that had been making his blinding headache even worse. A second after that, the nausea hit, and he rolled over on the bed with an intent to make a mad dash for the toilet, only to make it to the edge of the mattress before throwing up into a conveniently placed trash can.

Jensen realized four things at that moment:

1. Someone had put that trashcan there for that exact reason.

2. Someone had apparently helped him back to his room last night.

3. Cougar was most likely that someone.

4. Cougar was laughing at him.

Granted, he had been slightly involved in reliving everything he had eaten in the last two days, but he could still hear the man's faint, deeply amused, chuckle over his own noise. He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, before closing his eyes and slowly, gently, turning over onto his back.

He didn't even have to look at the smug bastard to know Cougar was smirking in the way that meant Jensen had done something particularly stupid and/or amusing. He sighed, " Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask?"

"Ask what?"

That rat-bastard.

" 'Ask what?' What do you mean, 'Ask what?'? What the Hell happened last night?"

"Witch part, amigo? You had a particularly eventful evening." He could hear Cougar getting off the bed and moving around the room as he spoke, running water, and footsteps nearing the bed again. A second later a cool, wet, rag dropped onto his face.

"What, really?" He sighed gratefully as he folded the rag and placed it over his eyes. More footsteps, more running water, footsteps again. Then a jean clad knee gently nudged his elbow, and he lifted a corner of the rag to see Cougar (glorious, amazing, merciful, Cougar) standing over him holding a glass of water and some aspirin. He smiled, and sat up against the headboard, "You, sir, are a God among men. Amen. Praise be to Cougar." He tilted his glass in salute before partaking of the wonderful Elixir of life known only as pain killers. Cougar just chuckled again, and shook his head before waiting for Jensen to continue their conversation. After all, the boy could talk enough for the both of them. "Well, I don't seem to remember much past the bar."

"Witch bar?" He pushed Jensen's legs over and sat down at the foot of the bed.

"There was more than one?" This time Cougar laughed outright. Jensen just sighed again, pressing his fingers to his temples, and tried to remember something, anything, from the night before. "Uh…Pepittoe's? …Pepper's?…Prada's?"

"Papi's."

"That's it! That's the one. Papi's."

Cougar chuckled again, shook his head again, smirked again. And at that point, Jensen realized that last night's story was going to top anything he had done in the past.