FIC (Supernatural): Sleeping Giants
Title: Sleeping Giants
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairing: AU teen Misha/Jensen
Word Count: ~1000
Disclaimer: This is completely made up and is, in fact, an AU. So even MORE made up! I do not know these peeps and no disrespect is intended to them.
Warnings: Underage sex of the 17 & 14 year old variety.
A/N: Part of the "Summer Realm" 'verse, takes place directly after The Baffled King Composing. Probably won't make sense if you're not familiar w/ the 'verse. This also fits my schmoop_bingo card for SLEEPY TIMES. And today is August 20th, the birthdays of the real Misha and timey_wimey_kid, who originated the prompt that started this whole thing. So happy birthday! This is a completely, 100% angst-free entry into the series. A breather before teen angst rears its head.
Misha slept with his mouth open, he got morning breath something fierce and was able to go from dead-to-the-world to fully functioning in five seconds flat. Not that Jensen was making a mental list of everything he'd learned about Misha's sleeping habits in the past week. But he'd never wanted to know everything about anyone before, and since Misha was living in his house, he'd learned so much he hadn't known.
For example, Misha liked to 'meditate' before going to bed. Meditating meant sitting in an uncomfortable position and not talking. Jensen had no idea that such a quiet side existed in his best friend, but there he'd been, his first night in the Ackles household, sitting in the middle of the floor of Jensen's bedroom, completely still for a good ten minutes. Jensen had left the room the first time, a little embarrassed, but he'd taken to creeping back in and watching Misha's face.
Wrestling was another thing Misha liked to do, preferably after meditating, which as far as Jensen could see, negated the whole point of meditation. Misha would leap from his meditative pose on the floor, launching himself at Jensen, lounging on the bed. Jensen already knew Misha was a master wrestler and tickler, but he had changed. His hands dipped into the boxers Jensen wore in lieu of pajamas and his mouth nuzzled at Jensen's neck, ears, cheek, whatever was in reach. Jensen was fast discovering that this was one game he didn't mind losing.
Though he also liked winning it, rolling them over and pinning Misha to the bed, eliciting a "Quit your rough-housing now, boys!" from his mother on the other side of the door. That would just make Misha laugh, Jensen leaning down to swallow the noise and press their bodies flush against each other. Then they'd each have to swallow sounds of much more than laughter.
Misha was also a bit of a bed-hog. He was supposed to be sleeping in the cot across the floor from Jensen's bed, but he only slept there for five minutes each night, the five minutes before Jensen's mom would poke her head inside and cheerfully yell for them to get up and ready for school. Other than that, he liked to sleep in Jensen's bed and he liked to take up the whole thing and have Jensen sleep on top of him. Jensen grumbled at first, but Misha did make a comfortable mattress, and Jensen liked listening to the beating of his heart and rising and falling in time with Misha's breaths. And whenever he felt too sappy for liking it so much, he'd shove Misha over and make them sleep back-to-back. (This tactic invariably led to Jensen waking up in the middle of the night with Misha's chest pressed against his back and Misha's hands snug around his waist. This was good, as Misha's hands tended to stray downward.)
But the best part about sleeping with Misha was going out to the treehouse and sleeping there. Once school got out, they'd be able to spend every night there, and Jensen practically wriggled with glee at the prospect. For now, though, they went on Friday and Saturday nights, carrying chips and Oreos and packets of smelly pepperoni, cans of Coke and Dr. Pepper and some weird fizzy drink Misha loved that Jensen wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.
They would lay on their sides on their sleeping bags and kiss the spicy, smoky flavor of the pepperoni from their mouths. Jensen thought he was getting better at the whole kissing thing. He was slobbering less, at any rate, and Misha moaned more. Though that could possibly be chalked up to the fact that they were usually naked when they kissed in the treehouse. And being naked led to sex.
Sex was, in a word, awesome. Except for a couple of attempts at blow jobs which, by mutual unspoken agreement, they were not going to discuss again. The successful attempts, on the other hand, Jensen wouldn't mind discussing and reliving at some length. He still hadn't been able to bring himself to stick Misha's dick in his mouth, but when Misha sucked at the head of his dick, he couldn't help but buck forward and bury his hands in Misha's hair, noises erupting from his throat he hadn't thought a human could make. It was always over incredibly quickly, and he'd be embarrassed at that, but Misha'd just rock back on his heels and lick his lips, giving Jensen this look that'd cause him to flush a bright red and pull Misha forward for some serious necking, his hand tugging at Misha's dick (and he was definitely getting better at that) until hot spunk covered his fingers.
The other thing about sleeping in the treehouse was waking up in the treehouse, sticky and a little cold, naked in the late spring air, to the sensation of Misha grinding against him. Harsh breathing would soon fill the spaces not occupied by their tangled bodies, grunts and gasps and moans and breathy whispers and the occasional laugh, usually by Misha. Jensen liked to watch Misha's face afterwards, the sleepy grin calling to mind pictures from Christmases when he'd been a little kid, still believing in Santa.
Soon enough school would be out for the summer, and Misha would start rehearsals in earnest for "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (he was already learning his lines - a favorite being, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!" - usually proclaimed to Jensen's brother's retreating back, much to the delight of Jensen's sister). Jensen figured he'd tag along, just for kicks. And then at night, they'd raid the Ackles' pantry for food and head back out to the treehouse, to kiss and laugh and joke and screw around. To learn everything, and eventually, to sleep.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairing: AU teen Misha/Jensen
Word Count: ~1000
Disclaimer: This is completely made up and is, in fact, an AU. So even MORE made up! I do not know these peeps and no disrespect is intended to them.
Warnings: Underage sex of the 17 & 14 year old variety.
A/N: Part of the "Summer Realm" 'verse, takes place directly after The Baffled King Composing. Probably won't make sense if you're not familiar w/ the 'verse. This also fits my schmoop_bingo card for SLEEPY TIMES. And today is August 20th, the birthdays of the real Misha and timey_wimey_kid, who originated the prompt that started this whole thing. So happy birthday! This is a completely, 100% angst-free entry into the series. A breather before teen angst rears its head.
Misha slept with his mouth open, he got morning breath something fierce and was able to go from dead-to-the-world to fully functioning in five seconds flat. Not that Jensen was making a mental list of everything he'd learned about Misha's sleeping habits in the past week. But he'd never wanted to know everything about anyone before, and since Misha was living in his house, he'd learned so much he hadn't known.
For example, Misha liked to 'meditate' before going to bed. Meditating meant sitting in an uncomfortable position and not talking. Jensen had no idea that such a quiet side existed in his best friend, but there he'd been, his first night in the Ackles household, sitting in the middle of the floor of Jensen's bedroom, completely still for a good ten minutes. Jensen had left the room the first time, a little embarrassed, but he'd taken to creeping back in and watching Misha's face.
Wrestling was another thing Misha liked to do, preferably after meditating, which as far as Jensen could see, negated the whole point of meditation. Misha would leap from his meditative pose on the floor, launching himself at Jensen, lounging on the bed. Jensen already knew Misha was a master wrestler and tickler, but he had changed. His hands dipped into the boxers Jensen wore in lieu of pajamas and his mouth nuzzled at Jensen's neck, ears, cheek, whatever was in reach. Jensen was fast discovering that this was one game he didn't mind losing.
Though he also liked winning it, rolling them over and pinning Misha to the bed, eliciting a "Quit your rough-housing now, boys!" from his mother on the other side of the door. That would just make Misha laugh, Jensen leaning down to swallow the noise and press their bodies flush against each other. Then they'd each have to swallow sounds of much more than laughter.
Misha was also a bit of a bed-hog. He was supposed to be sleeping in the cot across the floor from Jensen's bed, but he only slept there for five minutes each night, the five minutes before Jensen's mom would poke her head inside and cheerfully yell for them to get up and ready for school. Other than that, he liked to sleep in Jensen's bed and he liked to take up the whole thing and have Jensen sleep on top of him. Jensen grumbled at first, but Misha did make a comfortable mattress, and Jensen liked listening to the beating of his heart and rising and falling in time with Misha's breaths. And whenever he felt too sappy for liking it so much, he'd shove Misha over and make them sleep back-to-back. (This tactic invariably led to Jensen waking up in the middle of the night with Misha's chest pressed against his back and Misha's hands snug around his waist. This was good, as Misha's hands tended to stray downward.)
But the best part about sleeping with Misha was going out to the treehouse and sleeping there. Once school got out, they'd be able to spend every night there, and Jensen practically wriggled with glee at the prospect. For now, though, they went on Friday and Saturday nights, carrying chips and Oreos and packets of smelly pepperoni, cans of Coke and Dr. Pepper and some weird fizzy drink Misha loved that Jensen wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.
They would lay on their sides on their sleeping bags and kiss the spicy, smoky flavor of the pepperoni from their mouths. Jensen thought he was getting better at the whole kissing thing. He was slobbering less, at any rate, and Misha moaned more. Though that could possibly be chalked up to the fact that they were usually naked when they kissed in the treehouse. And being naked led to sex.
Sex was, in a word, awesome. Except for a couple of attempts at blow jobs which, by mutual unspoken agreement, they were not going to discuss again. The successful attempts, on the other hand, Jensen wouldn't mind discussing and reliving at some length. He still hadn't been able to bring himself to stick Misha's dick in his mouth, but when Misha sucked at the head of his dick, he couldn't help but buck forward and bury his hands in Misha's hair, noises erupting from his throat he hadn't thought a human could make. It was always over incredibly quickly, and he'd be embarrassed at that, but Misha'd just rock back on his heels and lick his lips, giving Jensen this look that'd cause him to flush a bright red and pull Misha forward for some serious necking, his hand tugging at Misha's dick (and he was definitely getting better at that) until hot spunk covered his fingers.
The other thing about sleeping in the treehouse was waking up in the treehouse, sticky and a little cold, naked in the late spring air, to the sensation of Misha grinding against him. Harsh breathing would soon fill the spaces not occupied by their tangled bodies, grunts and gasps and moans and breathy whispers and the occasional laugh, usually by Misha. Jensen liked to watch Misha's face afterwards, the sleepy grin calling to mind pictures from Christmases when he'd been a little kid, still believing in Santa.
Soon enough school would be out for the summer, and Misha would start rehearsals in earnest for "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (he was already learning his lines - a favorite being, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!" - usually proclaimed to Jensen's brother's retreating back, much to the delight of Jensen's sister). Jensen figured he'd tag along, just for kicks. And then at night, they'd raid the Ackles' pantry for food and head back out to the treehouse, to kiss and laugh and joke and screw around. To learn everything, and eventually, to sleep.