FIC: Hey Misha!
TITLE: Hey Misha!
AUTHOR: dark_spidey
FANDOM: Supernatural RPS
PAIRING: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
WARNING: Male/Male, handjob, fingering, language
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: 989
SUMMARY: Jensen makes it up to Misha for distracting him on set.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: bja727 left me little snippets of Cockles in my Ask Box on Tumblr, so in return, I wrote this. Inspired by comments made at TorCon 2012.
“Hey Misha,” Misha huffed when he slammed the door to his trailer.
Jensen turned in the seat he perched himself on 30 minutes ago since getting kicked off set, trying to hide his smirk as he looked at his co-star. “I’m Jensen. You’re Misha,” he replied, playing cute but Misha wasn’t having it.
“HEY MISHA!” Misha repeated, doing the tiny hip waggle Jensen did on set. “You guys are assholes,” Misha flung Castiel’s trench coat to the couch.
“Oh come on Mish, no need for name calling.” He full on smirked now.
“Sometimes you guys are impossible to work with,” Misha slumped onto the couch with a sigh.
Jensen nodded, it’s true. Sometimes both he and Jared fool around on set a bit too much. But hearing their director yell at Jared because he was distracting Misha, he couldn’t help himself, he had to get in on pestering Misha.
“Oh we’re not that bad.” He stood in front of Misha.
“The fuck you aren’t,” Misha looked up at him with an annoyed expression.
“All right fine. Yeah we can be dicks and make you flub your lines or break character,” he gave Misha his best Castiel impersonation, Misha grinned at that. “But at least I’m good at making it up to you.” He placed a knee on either side of Misha’s thighs, lowering himself and straddling him.
“Mmmm, yes, this is true,” Misha spread his fingers on Jensen’s thighs, running them up to grasp his hips tightly.
Jensen leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around Misha’s neck. “Yeah it is,” he licked the seam of Misha’s lips, seeking entrance. Misha parted his lips slightly, allowing him to eagerly lick into his mouth, groaning when their tongues finally met. He took Misha’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently.
Misha reached his hands around, grabbing Jensen’s ass and grinding their growing erections together. The kiss deepens, tongues sliding hungrily together, hips thrusting to the same rhythm as their tongues.
Jensen pulled apart first, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, glad that he took off the many layers of Dean Winchester before Misha’s return, and hastily discarded the piece of clothing. His fingers then went to loosening Castiel’s tie as Misha went to undoing his own slacks. Once Jensen began unbuttoning the white dress shirt, Misha already undid his jeans. Sitting up, Jensen lowered his jeans and boxer briefs to mid-thigh, Misha following suit and lifting his hips to do the same.
Jensen pushed Misha to lie on the couch and climbed on top of him, both groaning the instant their erections touched.
“God I want to fuck you,” Jensen kissed along Misha’s jaw, “Or maybe even ride you,” he panted hotly in Misha’s ear.
“Jensen,” Misha moaned, grinding up, seeking the same delicious friction against his cock that Jensen was starving for.
“But there’s not enough time. Maybe when we’re done shooting for the day,” Jensen paused to lick his hand, “We can do both,” he grasped both their hard cocks and began to stroke.
“Shit, yes Jensen.” Misha craned his head back, letting the sensation of Jensen’s spit slick hand take over him.
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Think I’ll ride you first. I love the sounds you make when I ride you hard.”
“Ah, Jen…” Misha’s eyes closed tightly as Jensen fasten his strokes.
“Look at me,” He slowed his pace until Misha opened his eyes. “Love the bruises you leave on my hips when you grip me tight.”
Instinctively, Misha’s hands found purchase on Jensen’s hips. It was his turn to moan as Misha thrust up into his hand, their leaking pre-come now adding to the slip and slide of their cocks.
“And then,” Jensen licked along the tie that was still loosely around Misha’s neck. “How do you want it Misha?” He lightly bit Misha’s pulse point. “How should I take you?” He groaned out.
“Fuck, Jensen, I,”
Jensen loved this. Loved how he can unravel Misha so. How he can make Misha so incoherent. Misha is a man of many words but like this, with him, it’s all about feeling, want, touch, need. Words were secondary, except for the filth Jensen likes to throw his way.
Jensen let go of their cocks, bringing his slick hand down to Misha’s hole, still rutting urgently against him. With eyes locked, he slipped his finger inside and that was all it took for Misha to come. He continued to slide his finger in and out until Misha rode out the last shocks of his orgasm.
Jensen pulled his hand free and before he reached his still hard erection, Misha’s hand beat him to it. The sticky warmth of Misha’s come aided the quick slickness of his strokes.
“Misha,” He panted before sealing his lips over his lover’s, feeling his orgasm fast approaching. One, two, three strokes and his body shuddered, his climax washing over him, his groans swallowed by Misha’s mouth. He slumped atop Misha once his body stopped shaking.
Several minutes passed with the two just holding each other before Jensen made the first move to get up. After retrieving a washcloth, he gently cleaned them both up. Misha lied there with hooded eyes, watching as he zipped up his pants. Straddling Misha once more, Jensen righted Misha’s briefs and slacks.
“Lazy fucker,” Jensen smiled down fondly. Biting his bottom lip, he ran his fingers along Misha’s tie, winding his hand around it, pulling Misha up with it. Their lips were a breath’s length away and with a smirk he said, “Hey Misha,” wiggling his hips against Misha’s at the same time.
“Asshole,” Misha whispered before Jensen stole one last kiss before they were needed on set.
AUTHOR: dark_spidey
FANDOM: Supernatural RPS
PAIRING: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
WARNING: Male/Male, handjob, fingering, language
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: 989
SUMMARY: Jensen makes it up to Misha for distracting him on set.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: bja727 left me little snippets of Cockles in my Ask Box on Tumblr, so in return, I wrote this. Inspired by comments made at TorCon 2012.
“Hey Misha,” Misha huffed when he slammed the door to his trailer.
Jensen turned in the seat he perched himself on 30 minutes ago since getting kicked off set, trying to hide his smirk as he looked at his co-star. “I’m Jensen. You’re Misha,” he replied, playing cute but Misha wasn’t having it.
“HEY MISHA!” Misha repeated, doing the tiny hip waggle Jensen did on set. “You guys are assholes,” Misha flung Castiel’s trench coat to the couch.
“Oh come on Mish, no need for name calling.” He full on smirked now.
“Sometimes you guys are impossible to work with,” Misha slumped onto the couch with a sigh.
Jensen nodded, it’s true. Sometimes both he and Jared fool around on set a bit too much. But hearing their director yell at Jared because he was distracting Misha, he couldn’t help himself, he had to get in on pestering Misha.
“Oh we’re not that bad.” He stood in front of Misha.
“The fuck you aren’t,” Misha looked up at him with an annoyed expression.
“All right fine. Yeah we can be dicks and make you flub your lines or break character,” he gave Misha his best Castiel impersonation, Misha grinned at that. “But at least I’m good at making it up to you.” He placed a knee on either side of Misha’s thighs, lowering himself and straddling him.
“Mmmm, yes, this is true,” Misha spread his fingers on Jensen’s thighs, running them up to grasp his hips tightly.
Jensen leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around Misha’s neck. “Yeah it is,” he licked the seam of Misha’s lips, seeking entrance. Misha parted his lips slightly, allowing him to eagerly lick into his mouth, groaning when their tongues finally met. He took Misha’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently.
Misha reached his hands around, grabbing Jensen’s ass and grinding their growing erections together. The kiss deepens, tongues sliding hungrily together, hips thrusting to the same rhythm as their tongues.
Jensen pulled apart first, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, glad that he took off the many layers of Dean Winchester before Misha’s return, and hastily discarded the piece of clothing. His fingers then went to loosening Castiel’s tie as Misha went to undoing his own slacks. Once Jensen began unbuttoning the white dress shirt, Misha already undid his jeans. Sitting up, Jensen lowered his jeans and boxer briefs to mid-thigh, Misha following suit and lifting his hips to do the same.
Jensen pushed Misha to lie on the couch and climbed on top of him, both groaning the instant their erections touched.
“God I want to fuck you,” Jensen kissed along Misha’s jaw, “Or maybe even ride you,” he panted hotly in Misha’s ear.
“Jensen,” Misha moaned, grinding up, seeking the same delicious friction against his cock that Jensen was starving for.
“But there’s not enough time. Maybe when we’re done shooting for the day,” Jensen paused to lick his hand, “We can do both,” he grasped both their hard cocks and began to stroke.
“Shit, yes Jensen.” Misha craned his head back, letting the sensation of Jensen’s spit slick hand take over him.
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Think I’ll ride you first. I love the sounds you make when I ride you hard.”
“Ah, Jen…” Misha’s eyes closed tightly as Jensen fasten his strokes.
“Look at me,” He slowed his pace until Misha opened his eyes. “Love the bruises you leave on my hips when you grip me tight.”
Instinctively, Misha’s hands found purchase on Jensen’s hips. It was his turn to moan as Misha thrust up into his hand, their leaking pre-come now adding to the slip and slide of their cocks.
“And then,” Jensen licked along the tie that was still loosely around Misha’s neck. “How do you want it Misha?” He lightly bit Misha’s pulse point. “How should I take you?” He groaned out.
“Fuck, Jensen, I,”
Jensen loved this. Loved how he can unravel Misha so. How he can make Misha so incoherent. Misha is a man of many words but like this, with him, it’s all about feeling, want, touch, need. Words were secondary, except for the filth Jensen likes to throw his way.
Jensen let go of their cocks, bringing his slick hand down to Misha’s hole, still rutting urgently against him. With eyes locked, he slipped his finger inside and that was all it took for Misha to come. He continued to slide his finger in and out until Misha rode out the last shocks of his orgasm.
Jensen pulled his hand free and before he reached his still hard erection, Misha’s hand beat him to it. The sticky warmth of Misha’s come aided the quick slickness of his strokes.
“Misha,” He panted before sealing his lips over his lover’s, feeling his orgasm fast approaching. One, two, three strokes and his body shuddered, his climax washing over him, his groans swallowed by Misha’s mouth. He slumped atop Misha once his body stopped shaking.
Several minutes passed with the two just holding each other before Jensen made the first move to get up. After retrieving a washcloth, he gently cleaned them both up. Misha lied there with hooded eyes, watching as he zipped up his pants. Straddling Misha once more, Jensen righted Misha’s briefs and slacks.
“Lazy fucker,” Jensen smiled down fondly. Biting his bottom lip, he ran his fingers along Misha’s tie, winding his hand around it, pulling Misha up with it. Their lips were a breath’s length away and with a smirk he said, “Hey Misha,” wiggling his hips against Misha’s at the same time.
“Asshole,” Misha whispered before Jensen stole one last kiss before they were needed on set.