the pearl

Sir Yes Sir

His first mission out, and Jensen's already got himself into a shitload of trouble.

It's not like he actively sought it out — it just followed him around. He figured joining Colonel Clay's team would deflect some of it, because being surrounded by hardcore sons of bitches usually scares the trouble away, but being a hardcore son of a bitch just meant you got followed around by twice as much trouble, and when you add in a motormouth smartass nerd like Jensen, well, hell, the trouble just jumps on in.

And it's not even the guys they're going up against that he's in trouble with. It's Colonel Clay. Which is a whole new level of trouble, because all those other COs he got into trouble with, that was okay, because they were just morons and deserved to be fucked with, really.

But Clay...

Jensen almost thinks he kinda respects Clay. Or something like that. And mouthing off to Clay at entirely the wrong time makes him feel almost...

Naughty? Maybe?

He doesn't really get time to explore those feelings, because the second the mission's finished, once the arms dealer's been taken out, Clay grumbles a few orders to Roque before turning to Jensen and barking "Jensen, with me."

And maybe he does actually respect Clay, because the last time he felt this bad was when he broke his mom's TV at the age of six. So he shuts the hell up, follows Clay to one of the empty offices in the building, and tries to not burst into tears like that little six-year-old version of himself when Clay whirls around on him and says, his voice low and angry "What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

"I..." Jensen swallows a few times, trying to get back the cocky son-of-a-bitch he knows he is. "I was pointing out an easier route, sir," he finally says, his voice barely cracking.

Clay shook his head. "No, you weren't. You were disagreeing with my order. And when we're in the field, you do not disagree with me. You could've gotten us all killed — just because you thought you knew better. And you do not know better."

That flares something in Jensen's belly, bringing up that burn of rage that got him kicked out of so many places before. "No, I do know better!" he snarls back. "That would've totally been a better route, and you're just too—"

He's cut off as Clay steps closer, menacing. "What did you just say?" he says, clipped, furious.

Jensen straightens and glares back at the man. "You heard me."

Clay studies him for a few seconds, his eyes narrowed, then shakes his head. "Jesus Christ, kid, I thought you mouthed off to all your other COs because you were bored..." He looks back at Jensen. "What the hell is your problem, huh? Did you not get spanked enough as a kid or something?"

Jensen's cock jumps a bit at that, and his eyes widen as all those loose thoughts in his head fit together like Tetris rows. Whoosh, there goes one row. Whoosh, there goes another. Whoosh, there goes a whole bunch of rows and now he's playing the next level — the level called "Let's see how far we can push Clay" or maybe just "Christ, Jake, you kinky little bastard".

Which must be why he says "No, sir. My parents didn't believe in corporal punishment. I'm sure getting smacked around like a punching bag works for many children, yourself included, but, unsurprisingly, my parents loved me more than that."

Oh yeah. That appears to be working. Clay's eyes are hard and hot, looking over him like he's working out if Jensen knows what he's offering, or how much he'll weigh as a corpse. Which must be why Jensen's mouth seals the deal. "What, Colonel? You gonna punish me?"

Clay releases an explosion of profanity, mixing words and languages together to form obscenities that Jensen's never heard, and shoves him up against the nearest wall. His thigh brushes against Jensen's semi-hard cock, and Clay inhales deeply, sensing the lust that must be seeping through Jensen's pores. "You little bastard..." he rumbles. "Gonna show you..." He leans down and latches onto Jensen's neck, tonguing the sweat off.

Jensen slumps against Clay and moans, trying to get as much of Clay's body against him as possible. He never realized exactly how much muscle Clay has on him until all of it is focused on pushing him against the wall, pinning him down so that even though he's the same height as his CO, Jensen feels so much smaller. His hands scrabble over Clay's back, searching for something to hang on to, and he grabs handfuls of Clay's shirt, groaning as he feels the muscles in Clay's back tense as his fingertips stroke through the cloth. "Oh yeah?" Jensen finally says, his voice breathless. "Show me what?"

Clay pulls away slightly, arms still pushing Jensen against the wall. Jensen breathes heavily, still slouched against the wall, and looks up at Clay, still defiant. Clay growls again and pushes his forearm against Jensen's throat, trapping him further against the wall, and even more thoughts are falling together Tetris-like in Jensen's brain. He's totally past the "Let's see how far we can push Clay" level and into the "Holy shit, this is really happening" level.

And just like that, everything changes, and Jensen stops fighting. He looks at Clay, looks into his eyes, no longer defiant, no longer the smartass kid getting into trouble, but so fucking needy. He didn't even realize how badly he wanted it until it was right in front of him. Clay slowly exhales, a low groan escaping his lips, and begins to push Jensen down, keeping his eyes locked on his.

Jensen's trapped by Clay's gaze, and only fully realises what's happening — what's going to happen — when his knees hit the floor. A wave of sheer want crashes over him, and he has to close his eyes to stop from falling over.

Clay puts his fingers under Jensen's chin and lifts his head. "Look at me," he commands.

Jensen obeys instantly, looking up towards Clay, feeling the heat of Clay's fingers under his chin. He swallows nervously, and licks his lips, not noticing Clay's observation of his mouth until Clay's thumb moves up and begins to stroke his lower lip. Jensen's mouth opens reflexively, and Clay's thumb glides slowly against his lip.

"You know what your biggest problem is?" Clay says, his voice steady. He doesn't give Jensen a chance to respond, his thumb still sliding against Jensen's mouth. "You don't know what to use that mouth of yours for." He stops, pulling his thumb away, gripping Jensen's face firmly. "Do you?"

Jensen blinks, a bit shocked at the loss of sensation against his mouth, and tries to shake his head. "N-no," he finally mumbles.

Clay smirks. "No, what?"

Jensen swallows nervously again as Clay strokes his cheek. "No sir."

Clay grins, and pats Jensen on the cheek affectionately. "Good boy."

He takes another step back, reviewing Jensen critically. Jensen breathes rapidly, chest heaving, mouth slick and swollen, pupils blown, and a fairly obvious erection tenting in his pants. "Now," Clay says, his voice still light, affectionate, tender. "How about you come over here and use your mouth properly?"

Jensen's leaning forward before Clay finishes speaking, mouthing Clay's erection through his clothing. He desperately tries to open Clay's zipper, hands shaking when he remembers that, for Clay, commando isn't just a job description.

Clay exhales loudly, his hips thrusting forward, and reaches down to take control, pulling out his cock. "C'mon, kid," he growls, rubbing the head against Jensen's bottom lip. "Open up..."

Jensen whimpers, looking up at Clay's face, his eyes wide and needy just before he opens his mouth wide and takes Clay in. Clay's hot and hard against his tongue, the musk rising from Clay's body making him open his mouth wider and take him even deeper.

Clay's hand is wrapped around the back of his head, fingers stroking Jensen's hair even as he pushes Jensen closer, slowly, forcing him to take him even deeper.

Jensen groans, opening his mouth as wide as he can make it, burying his nose in Clay's pubic hair as he swallows Clay down. His throat contracts against the head of Clay's cock, and he can feel the tension in Clay's hands, the restraint needed to not just slam himself against Jensen's mouth.

Jensen would smile if he could move his mouth, and slowly pulls away, tongue flat against the underside, stopping only when just the head is in his mouth. He sucks on it greedily, tongue twisting against the slit, then swallows Clay whole again.

He repeats this cycle, knowing how hot and wet his mouth must be, swallowing and suction and his tongue pushing Clay closer and closer. He sneakily slides his right hand down against his pants, palming his own erection.

Clay notices this, and slips one of his hands around to cup Jensen's jaw. "Do it," he says, his voice tight. "Jerk yourself off."

Jensen's eyes close at this, another crashing wave of lust making him beyond rock hard and about to faint. He fumbles with his fly, cock jumping at each accidental stroke as his fingers slip, and all the while Clay slowly thrusting in and out of his mouth, his thick length slick with spit and pre-come.

He finally pulls his cock free of his boxers and starts jerking it furiously, wincing against the dry roughness of his hand but being driven further and further by the sensation. He soon finds himself matching the rhythm of Clay's thrusts into his mouth, moving faster and faster.

Clay's movements are growing jerkier, hands clenched against Jensen's head, desperately trying to not just fuck Jensen's mouth. Jensen delicately scrapes his teeth against the shaft, and Clay swears violently, thrusting even deeper into Jensen's mouth as he comes, hips bucking furiously against him.

Come hits the back of Jensen's mouth and he swallows, eyes screwed up tightly as that thick bitter taste draws him over the edge, shaking as he shoots against his hand.

Clay slowly pulls out of Jensen's mouth, his knees sagging with exhaustion, hands stroking Jensen's jawline with something almost resembling affection. Jensen looks up at him, and Clay's smile is sharp.

"So..." Clay says, his voice lazy even as he runs his thumb over Jensen's lower lip again. "Are you going to disagree with me again?"

Jensen raises his eyebrows, and even through the post-orgasmic haze, he can feel those smartass bastard feelings rising up. "I don't I going to get punished again?"

Clay's hand slips to the back of Jensen's neck, almost paternal, but with a slight squeeze, forcing Jensen to lift his head higher, showing his throat to his CO. "Maybe..." Clay says roughly.

Jensen can't control his grin. "That'll probably be a yes, then."

Clay's hand squeezes just a bit tighter. "Yes what?" he growls.

Jensen thinks his toes might actually be curling. "Yes sir."

This The Losers story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at And you can feedback her at