Always Where I Need to Be (It's Not About You)
Jared/Jensen/Misha | NC-17
Jared can't concentrate because Misha can't shut up for the life of him. Jensen is (unluckily?) stuck in the middle.
“Do not even put your mouth on me until he’s in and you’re okay,” Misha says, all glinty blue eyes and naked skin, spread out on the sheets. He has Jensen between his legs, Jared behind Jensen, and the other two still, Jensen with his mouth halfway to Misha’s cock. His expression goes from confused to blissed out to confused again, where Jared can’t help himself and shifts his hips forwards just a little bit more.
“What?”
Misha rolls his eyes, cupping Jensen’s face in one hand while he fists his dick with the other. “Jared’s big,” he says like it’s obvious. “It might hurt and lead to teeth clenching and I don’t want my dick in your mouth if that happens.” There’s a moment of complete silence, save for Jared taking in deep breath and the sound of Misha’s hand on his own cock, touching himself in long, slow strokes. “I mean, I do it sometimes.”
Jared’s hands flex restlessly on Jensen’s hips. “Misha -” he says, oddly in unison with Jensen, the guy (his best friend) that he is so close to actually fucking.
“This whole thing is my idea,” Jensen snaps. “I am not going to bite your dick off.” He leans down, rests his head against Misha’s thigh, tilting his ass further up and back in the process. It makes Jared slip a little bit further inside, resulting in two twin groans.
“Promoting safe sex is all.” In Jared’s opinion, he sounds way to fucking chirpy for someone practically flat out refusing a blowjob. “Anyway, do you want this that badly that you can’t wait one minute to get Jared’s huge fucking cock in you?” Misha’s voice drops down an octave on the last sentence; a flush goes down Jared’s chest - from having Jensen here, literally writhing on his dick, Misha underneath him, talking about him like that. He can’t help himself: Jared pushes in a little more, leaning forwards so that his chest is lined up along Jensen’s back, pressing kisses into his hair.
“Fuck,” Jensen bites out instead. “Don’t fucking stop.” He groans and Misha can feel it, vibrating through him as Jared slides deeper. There’s a click and a snap as Jared adds probably fifteen more fucking tons of lube. Misha snickers a little, hand still on his dick. Jensen looks up to glare at him, but then he’s being filled up so good and so deep and so hard and his face goes slack, a keening whimper tearing itself from his throat.
“He likes it,” Misha says, and Jared lifts his head. “Misha, shut up.” It earns him another snicker, but Jensen’s dropped his head back down to his thigh, panting and rocking back in increments.
“Guys,” Jensen breathes, “Can we - could you -”
“Is he -” he starts to ask him, and then changes his mind halfway through. “Are you - Jen, is he in all the way?” The only response he gets is this deep, soulful look as he lifts his head to look at him while Jared starts to pull out slowly, making him feel the stretch and burn. It’s a good enough answer for him, apparently, because then he’s sliding his hand up from his jaw to his hair, guiding him forwards so that Jensen’s tongue can lick out, toy with the tip, take him deep enough that Misha’s eyelashes flutter and he’s almost completely silent for the first time since they got naked.
“Fuck,” he starts again. One of Jared’s hands slides up from his hip to Jensen’s shoulder, holding tightly while he watches the back of his head bob up and down. “Fuck, Jen, Jenny, fuck. If acting ever doesn’t work out for you, you’ll never have to - fuck - go hungry.” There’s a sound that might be a growl from Jensen. “But if you could just - just, tongue, maybe.” He stops, taking in a slow breath as Jensen sucks harder. “Jay, have you ever - ever fucked his mouth? So good, so pretty. You should see it.”
Jared resists the urge to get his belt and gag Misha with it. “I’m right here,” he says, punching his hips into Jensen with an over-exaggerated movement. He says something else but Jared ignores it, leaning down so his mouth is level with Jensen’s ear. “Does he shut up after he’s come?”
“Sometimes,” Jensen says, pulling off so he can breathe before licking a stripe down the underside, taking him back in his mouth again.
(“You get his ass,” comes indignantly from Misha. Jared ignores it.)
“Gonna gag you with my fucking belt,” he threatens, zoning in on him to gauge his reaction. He isn’t sure if it’s Jensen taking him as far as he is or the threat but Misha tosses his head back, giving a low groan that’s coming straight from the center of his chest. “I can’t concentrate with his running commentary,” Jared mutters, pressing in deep behind Jensen.
“I hate you,” Misha says instead. “I hate you both.”
Jensen pulls off of him, propping himself up on his elbows and pushing himself back onto Jared’s cock. “Fine, get yourself off,” he says. His voice is wrecked.
“I lied. I’d like to start this three part apology with an I love you.”
“Fuck, shut up,” Jared groans, voice gone deep and gravelly. Jensen is breathing raggedly, trying really hard not to make too much noise. His voice drops when he whispers in his ear, “Like the sounds you make, though.” It isn’t that he doesn’t like Misha, because he does, he really likes him in fact, it’s just that sometimes he literally cannot focus because Misha has too many words and too many thoughts that he feels the need to share and it’s chased off more than one of his hard-ons. He thrusts in hard, and Jensen whimpers.
“You like it,” Misha says, eyelids dropping to cover glittering blue eyes. Jared can see two day stubble on his chin, throwing light shadows across his face. Like this, he looks good. “Fuck, like being taken on both ends like this, don’t you.?” He strokes his hand back down his face, cups his jaw. Misha’s thumb rubs across the bulge in his cheek, where Jensen’s mouth is hiding his cock and he tips his head back and moans. “So fucking hot, you have no idea,” he gasps, liquid heat pooling in his spine.
“Misha,” Jared starts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you don’t shut your mouth and come in his, I am going to kill you.”
He laughs, breathless and shaky, head tipped back to expose the long line of his neck. Jared palms the curve of Jensen’s hip, licking a bead of sweat from the junction of his neck and shoulder as he moves a little faster.
“Couldn’t kill me,” Misha pants, eyes slipping closed and then open again. “Wouldn’t have anyone to - anyone to - Jesus,” he exhales, his whole body going tight like a bow string and then shuddering, mouth falling open for a silent moment. Jensen makes a noise, shifts slowly. “Anyone to play your fucked up angel.”
He stills, ignoring Jensen’s protesting noise. “Did you seriously just - come mid sentence?”
Jensen pulls off and says, “Yes,” just as Misha says, “I was in the middle of proving you wrong. What can I say, it gets me hot.” He looks down at Jensen, with pupils blown wide and lips, wet and fucked. In an act of physical defiance, Misha nearly folds himself in half and licks a stripe of come off of the corner of his mouth.
Leaning back on his haunches, Jared is careful as he manhandles Jensen up until he’s half straddling him, chest pressed to back while he’s on his knees. It isn’t an easy position, but it shifts the angle until Jared is so deep that Jensen thinks he can maybe taste him. It almost makes him dizzy.
The good thing is that he doesn’t take telling, just kneels and takes Jensen into his mouth. The bad thing is that he keeps pulling off to say things like, “So fucking hot,” and “Taste so fucking good.”
It’s hot, the way his voice is fucked out and gravelly, but Jared is a little more than desperate when he says, “God, please, shut him up.” Misha looks up at Jensen and catches his eye, and that’s all it takes. He’s going down on him again, mouth wethotgoodperfect, slipping down to meet Jared’s hand where it’s wrapped at the base.
“Christ, yes,” Jared says, and Jensen asks for harder, faster, more. His hands tighten around his hips, hard enough that he’ll get huge handprints as tattoos on his hips for a few days to come; Jensen makes a desperate sound, tipping his head back onto Jared’s shoulder as he tenses. “Yeah, don’t even tell him. Just come,” he says, turning his head so he’s mouthing at his ear and the side of his neck.
Almost like it’s planned, almost on cue Jensen cries out and comes, cutting Misha’s humming off as he swallows around his cock. He clenches so hard that Jared is seeing stars, and he thrusts again and again, groaning a grabled mix of Jensen and Misha into his shoulder.
They’re lying in a tangled mess of sweatly limbs afterwards, Jensen still in the middle when Misha says, “See? I said this was going to be -”
Jensen and Jared tell him to shut up at the same time.
Jared can't concentrate because Misha can't shut up for the life of him. Jensen is (unluckily?) stuck in the middle.
“Do not even put your mouth on me until he’s in and you’re okay,” Misha says, all glinty blue eyes and naked skin, spread out on the sheets. He has Jensen between his legs, Jared behind Jensen, and the other two still, Jensen with his mouth halfway to Misha’s cock. His expression goes from confused to blissed out to confused again, where Jared can’t help himself and shifts his hips forwards just a little bit more.
“What?”
Misha rolls his eyes, cupping Jensen’s face in one hand while he fists his dick with the other. “Jared’s big,” he says like it’s obvious. “It might hurt and lead to teeth clenching and I don’t want my dick in your mouth if that happens.” There’s a moment of complete silence, save for Jared taking in deep breath and the sound of Misha’s hand on his own cock, touching himself in long, slow strokes. “I mean, I do it sometimes.”
Jared’s hands flex restlessly on Jensen’s hips. “Misha -” he says, oddly in unison with Jensen, the guy (his best friend) that he is so close to actually fucking.
“This whole thing is my idea,” Jensen snaps. “I am not going to bite your dick off.” He leans down, rests his head against Misha’s thigh, tilting his ass further up and back in the process. It makes Jared slip a little bit further inside, resulting in two twin groans.
“Promoting safe sex is all.” In Jared’s opinion, he sounds way to fucking chirpy for someone practically flat out refusing a blowjob. “Anyway, do you want this that badly that you can’t wait one minute to get Jared’s huge fucking cock in you?” Misha’s voice drops down an octave on the last sentence; a flush goes down Jared’s chest - from having Jensen here, literally writhing on his dick, Misha underneath him, talking about him like that. He can’t help himself: Jared pushes in a little more, leaning forwards so that his chest is lined up along Jensen’s back, pressing kisses into his hair.
“Fuck,” Jensen bites out instead. “Don’t fucking stop.” He groans and Misha can feel it, vibrating through him as Jared slides deeper. There’s a click and a snap as Jared adds probably fifteen more fucking tons of lube. Misha snickers a little, hand still on his dick. Jensen looks up to glare at him, but then he’s being filled up so good and so deep and so hard and his face goes slack, a keening whimper tearing itself from his throat.
“He likes it,” Misha says, and Jared lifts his head. “Misha, shut up.” It earns him another snicker, but Jensen’s dropped his head back down to his thigh, panting and rocking back in increments.
“Guys,” Jensen breathes, “Can we - could you -”
“Is he -” he starts to ask him, and then changes his mind halfway through. “Are you - Jen, is he in all the way?” The only response he gets is this deep, soulful look as he lifts his head to look at him while Jared starts to pull out slowly, making him feel the stretch and burn. It’s a good enough answer for him, apparently, because then he’s sliding his hand up from his jaw to his hair, guiding him forwards so that Jensen’s tongue can lick out, toy with the tip, take him deep enough that Misha’s eyelashes flutter and he’s almost completely silent for the first time since they got naked.
“Fuck,” he starts again. One of Jared’s hands slides up from his hip to Jensen’s shoulder, holding tightly while he watches the back of his head bob up and down. “Fuck, Jen, Jenny, fuck. If acting ever doesn’t work out for you, you’ll never have to - fuck - go hungry.” There’s a sound that might be a growl from Jensen. “But if you could just - just, tongue, maybe.” He stops, taking in a slow breath as Jensen sucks harder. “Jay, have you ever - ever fucked his mouth? So good, so pretty. You should see it.”
Jared resists the urge to get his belt and gag Misha with it. “I’m right here,” he says, punching his hips into Jensen with an over-exaggerated movement. He says something else but Jared ignores it, leaning down so his mouth is level with Jensen’s ear. “Does he shut up after he’s come?”
“Sometimes,” Jensen says, pulling off so he can breathe before licking a stripe down the underside, taking him back in his mouth again.
(“You get his ass,” comes indignantly from Misha. Jared ignores it.)
“Gonna gag you with my fucking belt,” he threatens, zoning in on him to gauge his reaction. He isn’t sure if it’s Jensen taking him as far as he is or the threat but Misha tosses his head back, giving a low groan that’s coming straight from the center of his chest. “I can’t concentrate with his running commentary,” Jared mutters, pressing in deep behind Jensen.
“I hate you,” Misha says instead. “I hate you both.”
Jensen pulls off of him, propping himself up on his elbows and pushing himself back onto Jared’s cock. “Fine, get yourself off,” he says. His voice is wrecked.
“I lied. I’d like to start this three part apology with an I love you.”
“Fuck, shut up,” Jared groans, voice gone deep and gravelly. Jensen is breathing raggedly, trying really hard not to make too much noise. His voice drops when he whispers in his ear, “Like the sounds you make, though.” It isn’t that he doesn’t like Misha, because he does, he really likes him in fact, it’s just that sometimes he literally cannot focus because Misha has too many words and too many thoughts that he feels the need to share and it’s chased off more than one of his hard-ons. He thrusts in hard, and Jensen whimpers.
“You like it,” Misha says, eyelids dropping to cover glittering blue eyes. Jared can see two day stubble on his chin, throwing light shadows across his face. Like this, he looks good. “Fuck, like being taken on both ends like this, don’t you.?” He strokes his hand back down his face, cups his jaw. Misha’s thumb rubs across the bulge in his cheek, where Jensen’s mouth is hiding his cock and he tips his head back and moans. “So fucking hot, you have no idea,” he gasps, liquid heat pooling in his spine.
“Misha,” Jared starts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you don’t shut your mouth and come in his, I am going to kill you.”
He laughs, breathless and shaky, head tipped back to expose the long line of his neck. Jared palms the curve of Jensen’s hip, licking a bead of sweat from the junction of his neck and shoulder as he moves a little faster.
“Couldn’t kill me,” Misha pants, eyes slipping closed and then open again. “Wouldn’t have anyone to - anyone to - Jesus,” he exhales, his whole body going tight like a bow string and then shuddering, mouth falling open for a silent moment. Jensen makes a noise, shifts slowly. “Anyone to play your fucked up angel.”
He stills, ignoring Jensen’s protesting noise. “Did you seriously just - come mid sentence?”
Jensen pulls off and says, “Yes,” just as Misha says, “I was in the middle of proving you wrong. What can I say, it gets me hot.” He looks down at Jensen, with pupils blown wide and lips, wet and fucked. In an act of physical defiance, Misha nearly folds himself in half and licks a stripe of come off of the corner of his mouth.
Leaning back on his haunches, Jared is careful as he manhandles Jensen up until he’s half straddling him, chest pressed to back while he’s on his knees. It isn’t an easy position, but it shifts the angle until Jared is so deep that Jensen thinks he can maybe taste him. It almost makes him dizzy.
The good thing is that he doesn’t take telling, just kneels and takes Jensen into his mouth. The bad thing is that he keeps pulling off to say things like, “So fucking hot,” and “Taste so fucking good.”
It’s hot, the way his voice is fucked out and gravelly, but Jared is a little more than desperate when he says, “God, please, shut him up.” Misha looks up at Jensen and catches his eye, and that’s all it takes. He’s going down on him again, mouth wethotgoodperfect, slipping down to meet Jared’s hand where it’s wrapped at the base.
“Christ, yes,” Jared says, and Jensen asks for harder, faster, more. His hands tighten around his hips, hard enough that he’ll get huge handprints as tattoos on his hips for a few days to come; Jensen makes a desperate sound, tipping his head back onto Jared’s shoulder as he tenses. “Yeah, don’t even tell him. Just come,” he says, turning his head so he’s mouthing at his ear and the side of his neck.
Almost like it’s planned, almost on cue Jensen cries out and comes, cutting Misha’s humming off as he swallows around his cock. He clenches so hard that Jared is seeing stars, and he thrusts again and again, groaning a grabled mix of Jensen and Misha into his shoulder.
They’re lying in a tangled mess of sweatly limbs afterwards, Jensen still in the middle when Misha says, “See? I said this was going to be -”
Jensen and Jared tell him to shut up at the same time.