the pearl

Special Occasion

Cougar doesn't go down on Jensen often. It's not that he doesn't want to — at least, he's told Jensen as much — but it's that it can be too much.

Cougar likes to spend hours down there, his face buried against Jensen's skin, taking in the scent, the feeling, the taste. It drives Jensen crazy, wild and hotter than anything else Cougar does — hotter even than when he's hot and slick and begging Jensen to fuck him.

So it's a rare occurrence, happening only when they know they have an evening entirely to themselves — no emergencies, no teammates barging through the door, nothing that could interrupt.

And it always starts the same way — Jensen lying on the bed, arms resting behind his head, long, lean and golden in the afternoon sunlight. He's wearing just his boxers, bright against the pale skin of his thighs, and Cougar is studying the tan line against his stomach and thighs.

He must be imagining the taste of it, because he leans over, hair brushing against Jensen's skin as he slowly runs his tongue across Jensen's stomach.

Jensen's cock stirs in his boxers, and he looks down at Cougar. His eyes are closed and he's breathing hard through his nose, sharp exhalations against Jensen's skin. Jensen grins sharply. "You gonna...?" he asks, eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

Cougar looks up and his eyes are teasing, mouth smiling, playful as he just starts pulling down Jensen's boxers. His mouth follows the boxers, sliding against newly exposed skin. Jensen's erection springs free once the boxers are down far enough, and Cougar rubs his cheek against it, the faintest scratch of stubble against Jensen's cock.

Jensen whimpers, back arching, hands moving out from behind his head to clutch at the pillows. Cougar is still grinning, lifting his head slightly as he slides his legs over Jensen's, propping his arms on either side of Jensen's hips, positioning his mouth so achingly close to Jensen's cock.

Jensen watches Cougar, breath shallow in his lungs, sees him focus his attention, precise, targeted.

Cougar slowly breathes out, his breath cool against the heat of Jensen's cock. He wets his lips, exhales again, then takes him into his mouth.

Cougar always goes slow, taking Jensen all the way down so easily, but doing it slowly, as if savouring each millimeter, every single vein, ridge and indentation on Jensen's cock.

It amazes him. It terrifies him too. That Cougar — this dependable rock of a man, a statue in solitude and silence — could act this way. Hell, could worship him this way. It was so amazing that Jensen didn't know if he wanted to cry, or get married, or something equally ridiculous.

And once Cougar is all the way down, swallowing Jensen down with well—practiced ease, it's hot and tight and unbelievably wet against Jensen's cock. His nose is against Jensen's skin, inhaling deeply just before managing to swallow down that last centimeter, tongue a thick wet slide along the bottom.

Jensen lifts his head just enough to look down, to see Cougar's head slowly bob up and down, see long black hair brush against his skin, see Cougar glance up at him on the upstroke, eyes dark with lust. Jensen's head falls back onto the pillows, hands clutching at the sheets as Cougar's tongue spirals up to bathe the head of his cock, dipping into the hole to lick out more of Jensen's precome, then spiralling back down to swallow him fully again.

It's ridiculous, it's amazing, it's shorting out Jensen's brain, and all he can see behind his eyelids are flashes of white hot pleasure, synapses firing in an erratic pattern, morse code flashes spelling out COUGARCOUGARCOUGAR dash—dot—dash—dot dash—dash—dash dot—dot—dash dash—dash—dot dot—dash dot—dash—dot. And it's only then that he realises that's what he's saying, repeating Cougar's name in breathy moans and gasps and whimpers, each gentle suck or lick or breath or even the faintest scrape of teeth drawing a sound out of Jensen's throat like he's an instrument to be played.

He's close — it feels like he's been on the edge for hours, and maybe he has, because every time he feels it begin to crest, every time the white sparks crash together and threaten to blind him in pleasure, Cougar pulls away, slowing it down, gentling him like he's a wild animal. Jensensis Erectus — and he thinks he might be proud of that particular joke, especially when his brain isn't supposed to be working.

Cougar must instinctively know when he's climbed down enough from the edge to start cracking taxonomy jokes in his mind, because he takes him back down and deep and it feels like his mouth has gotten even hotter and wetter, because it feels like Cougar's mouth is lava. Burning his achingly hard cock, melting his overstimulated mind, making him buck and swear and cry out Cougar's name like he's some sort of god.

"Jesus, Cougar, you...God, please...Fuck, I'm gonna...please...please let me come..." Jensen's reduced to babbling now, one hand clutching the sheets while the other holds onto Cougar's neck, his thumb spasmodically jerking against his jawline every time Cougar sucks just that bit harder.

Cougar hums against Jensen's cock, vocal chords vibrating against the head and Jensen throws his head back and cries, feet digging into the bed, hips shaking as he finally starts to lose control. The first spurt shoots into Cougar's mouth, but the second and third and — Christ — fourth shoot against Cougar's face, painting his lips, his cheeks, dripping along his jawline.

Cougar's hand keeps working him through it, even as Jensen curses and shudders and tries to get his too—sensitive cock away. But he won't let go, just slows and softens, still holding Jensen in his hand as he slowly climbs his way up Jensen's body.

He kisses Jensen, open—mouthed, letting him taste himself on Cougar's skin, salty bittersweet mixed with the delicious tang of Cougar's skin.

Cougar's erection is prodding Jensen's own slowly fading erection, and Jensen's eyes actually roll back in his head as Cougar grasps both of their cocks in his hand, pulling rapidly, skin against skin, slippery with Cougar's precome and spit and Jensen's come. When Cougar comes hot and sticky against their skin, Jensen thinks he might come again himself, gasping and moaning against his hair as Cougar bucks and thrusts and bites Jensen's shoulder in a silent moan.

Cougar falls on top of him and they lie there for a few minutes, skin sticking together, Jensen stroking Cougar's hair while Cougar traces little circles around Jensen's chest with gun—callused fingers.

And for those fleeting soothing quiet moments, everything is perfect.

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