She rushes to reassure him. "It's fine," she insists, stubbornly refusing to let him pull her hand away from her face, at least for a while.
There's nothing to be done for it now, and she shrugs philosophically. "Seriously, Cougs, it's fine. I've had way worse before, you know that." She reaches for his hands and doesn't let go, pressing her thumb into the pulse at his wrist and holding on. "Don't be fucking stupid, you're sleeping in the bed with me. I'm not made of glass just because we're technically dead."
He doesn't want to sleep on the floor and even the thought aggravates him by being too far away. Except...
"If we're married, you can't walk downstairs with a black eye after we introduced ourselves as a couple." It's the most he's said in a long time, but the problem is that he can't see how they're going to get concealer. More than that, they shouldn't have to. "I hurt you," he says, gutted and miserable. After today, that's the last thing he's wanted to do and he's hurt her, the woman he loves.
"Well then, tomorrow, you're going to go get me a big pair of bug-eye sunglasses when you go get breakfast, and then I'm going to go shopping for concealer," she decides, pulling on his hands and crab-walking back on the bed so that he has to follow her and they can lie the fuck back down, already.
"And if it'll make you feel better, I'll clock you in the face too, and then we'll match."
He's still breathing heavily and with some distress. And yet, she's tugging him back to the point that he collapses on top of her the last bit of the way, which puts them flush against each other. It leaves Cougar breathing hard and heavy, unsure if he should move.
"I hurt you," is all he says again, tenderly touching her face and wanting, so badly, to do nothing but kiss it better.
His mind must really be cracking apart if he's thinking things like this.
The weight of Cougar's body sprawled over hers isn't necessarily familiar, but it is grounding. She can feel her heart beat slowing as she relaxes more, looking up at him as his hair swings down to shade his face.
"Just a little," she allows, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears as he carefully traces the edge of her eye socket with painfully gentle fingertips.
She can't read the look on his face. If she didn't know better, she'd think that he was fighting the urge to kiss her, or at least kiss her cheek. Absently, Roque's constant comments about how codependent they're getting surface in the back of her mind, but she pushes them aside so she can focus on this moment right now.
"You were dreaming, Cougar," she points out quietly, her hands settling on his shoulders. "I shouldn't have gotten so close."
"Even if I was dreaming, it ended with me hitting you." That's the terrifying part. He doesn't want to think about how many times that it might happen or the pain that she's experiencing because of him. He wraps his arms around her waist and lets his fingers slowly curl. "I can't do that again."
Breathing out slowly, he eases back so he can look her in the eye. "Let me sleep on the floor, please."
"If you try and sleep on that floor, Carlos Alvarez," she threatens, pulling out the Mom Voice her sister has perfected, "then I'm going to going to get down there right next to you. I'm not leaving you, okay? Not tonight of all nights."
It's really tempting to cup his face in her hands and lean in to kiss him, just a chaste peck to his lips that could be as platonic as possible. Too tempting.
She curls her fingers on his shoulders, digging them in. "You could hit me a hundred times and I wouldn't let you sleep alone."
She's not going to let this go. She's only going to follow him, which means that he should just give in. Beyond that, he's so exhausted that he can't find it in him to fight anymore. Letting out a pained sound of complaint, he lets his forehead fall to the fabric of his t-shirt on her body, giving her a determined look.
He lets his head drop and her hands automatically lift to pet over his hair, smoothing it down the curve of his scalp and not even caring that it's a little greasy and dirty. He didn't indulge in a shower the way she did, but somehow that's better. It makes this feel real.
"Cougs, if you wanted to get kinky with me, all you had to do was ask," she teases, forcing a lightness into her voice that sounds as fake as it feels.
Still. She slides off the bed and finds the plastic zip ties they all carry, grabbing a handful before climbing back on the bed. Luckily, the headboard is a fancy, wrought-iron kind of thing, perfect for attaching restraints to. She loops one of the ties around one of the bars, then reaches for his hands. This part she does as carefully and gently as possible, because she knows they all of them have bad memories of being restrained. She makes sure they aren't too tight by wiggling her fingers between his wrist and the plastic, and then loops the ties through the one on the headboard.
The fact that she basically had to sit on him to do all of this is something she didn't really pay attention to until just now.
If he's honest, it aches just a little given the angle of his arms, but he's grateful that in this position, he's not going to end up hurting her at all. He wills his hips to stay on the bed and not push up, but it's a hard thing when she's sitting above him, as hot and tempting as she is.
He nods, breathing out a sigh of relief. He will ache in the morning in his shoulders and his elbows, will feel the strain, but he won't hurt her. "Now, you stay with me," he promises.
She sits on his stomach and braces her hands on his chest and squints her eyes suspiciously at him, but he seems much calmer now, so she figures he's really okay.
"Now, I stay with you," she agrees, huffing out a breath that's close to a laugh and letting herself lean down to buss a kiss to his cheek without even thinking about it. "Idiot man."
Scrambling off him is the perfect excuse to hide how pink her cheeks might be, and she reaches over to turn off the lamp before settling against him again, resting her head on his chest and sliding her arm around his middle. His heart beats a steady rhythm beneath her ear, and she syncs up their breathing without even thinking about it, letting him soothe her into a state of calm so that she can drift off to sleep. Her eye smarts, and she knows it's going to be blue tomorrow, but for now she can ignore it.
"Do you need another pillow or anything?" she asks, her voice loud in the stillness of their room.
"Shh," he coaxes, because with the threat of hurting her passed, Cougar can relax the way he hadn't been, before. He rolls his shoulders back a little and listens to the crack before he gets comfortable
He does sleep, this time, and while there are nightmares, his writhing is at a minimum now that he's in Jake's arms. He breathes in the warmth of her, her smell, her presence, and he calms down. He knows this is a terrible situation, but if it's one that allows him this closeness with her, he can make do.
When he wakes, there is another pressing problem that she's sure to feel. Tied up to the headboard with a beautiful woman on top of him is bad enough. When it's Jake and they're pretending to be married, it becomes a terrifyingly dangerous one.
Jake is slow to wake. She always is, being such a night owl, but this morning is worse. First, she's been fighting against insomnia for days, and it's all caught up to her. Second, she's so goddamn comfortable curled up around Cougar the way she is, her fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt and one leg curled possessively around his thigh.
Grumbling as she drifts to the surface, she presses her face more firmly into his chest, aware of a wet spot beneath her cheek.
"I drooled on you," she mumbles, lifting her head a little and blinking fuzzily at him. "Sorry."
He's going to be aching with it in a little bit, which is a bad thing for him. He doesn't need to ruin things between them when they haven't even started. Controlling his breathing with deep, slow breaths, he tries not to let himself push up into that heat. "It's no problem," he promises softly, staring down at that little spot.
He feels awful, now, but it's a rested kind of awful. Once he showers and eats, he thinks he will feel like the new man that he is. "Martinez," is what he says softly, having thought about it all night. "My mother's maiden name." He nods, as if to say that they'll use that.
Jake wants to stay curled up with him all morning. The room is dim and warm, the poor A/C unit doing its best to keep up with the demand they put on it but just not quite managing it, and Cougar smells comforting. Like sweat, and leather, and gun oil. "Mm, okay."
She rolls off him, flopping onto her back and stretching slowly, pointing her toes and reaching high up above her head, the hem of his stolen shirt riding up her belly as she makes baby dinosaur noises under her breath. When she's satisfied, she slumps back and turns her head to look at him. "Alright, lemme get you out of these, then," she says, reaching out to pat him on the chest before pushing herself up so she can go hunt for the knife she needs to set him loose.
She's not oblivious to his current predicament, she has eyes, not to mention she'd just been curled up with her knee pressed between his legs, but she's also been living with four men for over five years, so a little morning wood is not something she's oblivious to. She doesn't read into it any more than that.
A few quick slices of her knife, and Cougar's free to lower his arms. "Alright, Señor Martinez, you owe me breakfast and a new pair of sunglasses, so hop to it." Her voice gentling, she reaches out and picks up his hand, rubbing her fingers carefully against his wrist where the skin is a little red. "You okay?"
He does ache. His wrists are red and he doesn't know how much they will swell and ache later, but for right now, he's glad that he hasn't hurt her more during the night. They've slept in the same vicinity before, but never like this. It's left him feeling like it's a habit he could get in the habit of. He could get used to waking up with her curves and warm body pressed to his.
"Fine," he assures her with a rub of his wrists. He strips off his shirt and leaves it in a ball on the floor, the pants following next as he heads to the shower to blast hot water over his aching muscles, wincing when the sluice of hot water stings his wrists. He wanders out with the towel slung around his waist, the glint of a golden ring odd on his finger.
She's gone back to bed in the time he used to take his shower, curled up on Cougar's half of the bed with her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around Cougar's pillow. She's not actually sleeping, but her eyes are mostly closed, and she just hums when Cougar comes out of the bathroom looking like a Mexican Mr. Darcy.
"Mm, yes please. Enchiladas." She has no idea if enchiladas are available at this hour of the morning, but she doesn't really care. Honestly, anything will be fine. "And coffee. And sunglasses."
Cougar rifles through his bag and finds a pair of jeans that he slides into after turning his back to Jake, not bothering with underwear. He tugs on a sleeveless t-shirt with frayed edges and dons his hat above curling wet hair, nodding for her to join him. His wrists will look red and raw, but her eye looks blue and Cougar still feels awful for it.
"Come," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist when they arrive at the door, so that when they go out into the world, they're presenting their lie. He yanks his hat off his head and sets it atop her hair. "Until the sunglasses," he says.
She whines when he seems to expect her to come with him, pouting. "You want me to get up? Noooo."
But there's no denying Cougar when he's set his mind to something, so she eventually tumbles out of bed, grabbing one of the sundresses he bought for her and swapping the t-shirt out for it. She doesn't bother with a bra. Her hair has dried in a crazy, frizzy mess, but Cougar's hat is a welcome addition which might help tame it, and she pauses when he drops it on her head to smile at him. "If I'd have known all it took to get you to give me your hat willingly was getting hit in the face, I'd have done it ages ago."
He makes sure to turn away politely when she's changing, not wanting her to think he's staring (even though he absolutely has stared in the past just like she's seen him naked). He tugs the brim of the hat even lower so Jensen can't see past it, giving her a glare that says if she makes another joke, he's leaving her here and not even buying her the nice breakfast food.
"Ready?" he asks, checking that he has his fake ring on.
She huffs when he glares at her, rolling her eyes. "Spoilsport," she mutters under her breath, but her touch is gentle as she slides her fingers against his palm and takes his hand in hers. She's going to need his help getting through the hotel with his hat pulled down that low, but she trusts Cougar with her life, and this is no different than knowing he's up high watching her through his scope.
He cocks his brow upwards because yes, he is a spoilsport. If he happens to want Jake to go through life without being hurt, then he'll accept all of the blame and happily. "Here," he says, nudging her towards the little shop he'd bought the things in last night. "Pick sunglasses. I pay," he promises, kissing her temple as he lets go of her hand to mill through the store.
Playing up the hungover angle as she follows Cougar through the hotel, Jake allows herself to cling to his hand, letting herself be towed through the lobby and out into the street. The shop is close by, only a couple hundred yards, and the change in light from the street to the interior has her blinking owlishly, pushing the brim of his hat up so she can see.
She's not expecting the kiss he gives her, and it honestly leaves her a little flustered.
The display isn't huge or anything, but there's enough choice that she spends a few minutes trying on glasses and squinting at herself in the tiny mirror attached to the top of the turny thing. Eventually, she settles on a pair and goes to hunt him down, finding him idly leafing through some magazines.
"These ones," she declares, holding them out so he can see and sliding her arm through his so she can rest her chin on his shoulder and look at what he's got in his hands.
He gives a 'hmm' and lifts them up as if he wants to inspect them. He nudges them towards her and helps her into them as he loads up a few magazines and snacks in case they don't want to leave the room, paying as he absently holds down a conversation with the cashier about the weather. He also gets a recommendation for brunch, in a little bar near here.
"Found you breakfast," is all he says, keeping his hand at the small of her back.
The sundress he bought her is a halter, floral thing, light and breezy with a very deep back, which means the guiding hand he places on her spine to help her cross the street is spread directly on her skin. It's too warm to shiver, but she wants to. Instead, she plucks Cougar's hat off her head and drops it back on his, adjusting the brim with a conspiratorial smile.
"Let's sit outside," she gushes, when they get to the bar and one of the waiters starts to try and get them to sit down. It'll let her keep her glasses on, and Cougar can hide under his hat like he likes.
no subject
There's nothing to be done for it now, and she shrugs philosophically. "Seriously, Cougs, it's fine. I've had way worse before, you know that." She reaches for his hands and doesn't let go, pressing her thumb into the pulse at his wrist and holding on. "Don't be fucking stupid, you're sleeping in the bed with me. I'm not made of glass just because we're technically dead."
no subject
"If we're married, you can't walk downstairs with a black eye after we introduced ourselves as a couple." It's the most he's said in a long time, but the problem is that he can't see how they're going to get concealer. More than that, they shouldn't have to. "I hurt you," he says, gutted and miserable. After today, that's the last thing he's wanted to do and he's hurt her, the woman he loves.
no subject
"And if it'll make you feel better, I'll clock you in the face too, and then we'll match."
no subject
"I hurt you," is all he says again, tenderly touching her face and wanting, so badly, to do nothing but kiss it better.
His mind must really be cracking apart if he's thinking things like this.
no subject
"Just a little," she allows, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears as he carefully traces the edge of her eye socket with painfully gentle fingertips.
She can't read the look on his face. If she didn't know better, she'd think that he was fighting the urge to kiss her, or at least kiss her cheek. Absently, Roque's constant comments about how codependent they're getting surface in the back of her mind, but she pushes them aside so she can focus on this moment right now.
"You were dreaming, Cougar," she points out quietly, her hands settling on his shoulders. "I shouldn't have gotten so close."
no subject
Breathing out slowly, he eases back so he can look her in the eye. "Let me sleep on the floor, please."
no subject
It's really tempting to cup his face in her hands and lean in to kiss him, just a chaste peck to his lips that could be as platonic as possible. Too tempting.
She curls her fingers on his shoulders, digging them in. "You could hit me a hundred times and I wouldn't let you sleep alone."
no subject
"Then tie me up," he insists. "Put gloves on me."
no subject
"Cougs, if you wanted to get kinky with me, all you had to do was ask," she teases, forcing a lightness into her voice that sounds as fake as it feels.
Still. She slides off the bed and finds the plastic zip ties they all carry, grabbing a handful before climbing back on the bed. Luckily, the headboard is a fancy, wrought-iron kind of thing, perfect for attaching restraints to. She loops one of the ties around one of the bars, then reaches for his hands. This part she does as carefully and gently as possible, because she knows they all of them have bad memories of being restrained. She makes sure they aren't too tight by wiggling her fingers between his wrist and the plastic, and then loops the ties through the one on the headboard.
The fact that she basically had to sit on him to do all of this is something she didn't really pay attention to until just now.
"How does that feel?"
no subject
He nods, breathing out a sigh of relief. He will ache in the morning in his shoulders and his elbows, will feel the strain, but he won't hurt her. "Now, you stay with me," he promises.
no subject
"Now, I stay with you," she agrees, huffing out a breath that's close to a laugh and letting herself lean down to buss a kiss to his cheek without even thinking about it. "Idiot man."
Scrambling off him is the perfect excuse to hide how pink her cheeks might be, and she reaches over to turn off the lamp before settling against him again, resting her head on his chest and sliding her arm around his middle. His heart beats a steady rhythm beneath her ear, and she syncs up their breathing without even thinking about it, letting him soothe her into a state of calm so that she can drift off to sleep. Her eye smarts, and she knows it's going to be blue tomorrow, but for now she can ignore it.
"Do you need another pillow or anything?" she asks, her voice loud in the stillness of their room.
no subject
He does sleep, this time, and while there are nightmares, his writhing is at a minimum now that he's in Jake's arms. He breathes in the warmth of her, her smell, her presence, and he calms down. He knows this is a terrible situation, but if it's one that allows him this closeness with her, he can make do.
When he wakes, there is another pressing problem that she's sure to feel. Tied up to the headboard with a beautiful woman on top of him is bad enough. When it's Jake and they're pretending to be married, it becomes a terrifyingly dangerous one.
no subject
Grumbling as she drifts to the surface, she presses her face more firmly into his chest, aware of a wet spot beneath her cheek.
"I drooled on you," she mumbles, lifting her head a little and blinking fuzzily at him. "Sorry."
no subject
He feels awful, now, but it's a rested kind of awful. Once he showers and eats, he thinks he will feel like the new man that he is. "Martinez," is what he says softly, having thought about it all night. "My mother's maiden name." He nods, as if to say that they'll use that.
no subject
She rolls off him, flopping onto her back and stretching slowly, pointing her toes and reaching high up above her head, the hem of his stolen shirt riding up her belly as she makes baby dinosaur noises under her breath. When she's satisfied, she slumps back and turns her head to look at him. "Alright, lemme get you out of these, then," she says, reaching out to pat him on the chest before pushing herself up so she can go hunt for the knife she needs to set him loose.
She's not oblivious to his current predicament, she has eyes, not to mention she'd just been curled up with her knee pressed between his legs, but she's also been living with four men for over five years, so a little morning wood is not something she's oblivious to. She doesn't read into it any more than that.
A few quick slices of her knife, and Cougar's free to lower his arms. "Alright, Señor Martinez, you owe me breakfast and a new pair of sunglasses, so hop to it." Her voice gentling, she reaches out and picks up his hand, rubbing her fingers carefully against his wrist where the skin is a little red. "You okay?"
no subject
"Fine," he assures her with a rub of his wrists. He strips off his shirt and leaves it in a ball on the floor, the pants following next as he heads to the shower to blast hot water over his aching muscles, wincing when the sluice of hot water stings his wrists. He wanders out with the towel slung around his waist, the glint of a golden ring odd on his finger.
"Breakfast?" he suggests.
no subject
"Mm, yes please. Enchiladas." She has no idea if enchiladas are available at this hour of the morning, but she doesn't really care. Honestly, anything will be fine. "And coffee. And sunglasses."
no subject
"Come," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist when they arrive at the door, so that when they go out into the world, they're presenting their lie. He yanks his hat off his head and sets it atop her hair. "Until the sunglasses," he says.
no subject
But there's no denying Cougar when he's set his mind to something, so she eventually tumbles out of bed, grabbing one of the sundresses he bought for her and swapping the t-shirt out for it. She doesn't bother with a bra. Her hair has dried in a crazy, frizzy mess, but Cougar's hat is a welcome addition which might help tame it, and she pauses when he drops it on her head to smile at him. "If I'd have known all it took to get you to give me your hat willingly was getting hit in the face, I'd have done it ages ago."
no subject
"Ready?" he asks, checking that he has his fake ring on.
no subject
no subject
no subject
She's not expecting the kiss he gives her, and it honestly leaves her a little flustered.
The display isn't huge or anything, but there's enough choice that she spends a few minutes trying on glasses and squinting at herself in the tiny mirror attached to the top of the turny thing. Eventually, she settles on a pair and goes to hunt him down, finding him idly leafing through some magazines.
"These ones," she declares, holding them out so he can see and sliding her arm through his so she can rest her chin on his shoulder and look at what he's got in his hands.
no subject
"Found you breakfast," is all he says, keeping his hand at the small of her back.
no subject
"Let's sit outside," she gushes, when they get to the bar and one of the waiters starts to try and get them to sit down. It'll let her keep her glasses on, and Cougar can hide under his hat like he likes.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)