[FIC] Weekends Only for etcetera_kit
Title: Weekends Only
Author: vaderina
Recipient: etcetera_kit
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Word count: 2874
Disclaimer: I know nothing of these people's actual lives. This is just a story for fun, no profit, nothing gained.
Warnings: Sub/Dom undertones, mild reference to past issues.
Prompt: Jensen has never been able to figure out Misha. During a break in LA, Jensen can't stay at his own house (fire, remodeling, pest control, et al) and stays with Misha. During the weekend, they start to figure out that maybe it wasn't being unable to figure them out, but being unable to identify how they felt.
Sighing, Jensen took in the view of his flat. The wallpaper was peeling off the wall, dripping gooey mass to further ruin the already soaking and stained carpets. His bedroom smelt stale and looked revolting. Turning to sit on the dry bit of his couch Jensen rubbed his eyes. Of course the people in the flat about had to try and renovate their own flat and cock it up. The result? A broken sewage pipe and a hole in his living room ceiling, ruining both his bed and couch. At least the couch just had water on it. He needed to get a new bed once the idiots upstairs have managed to fix their problems. That wouldn't be for a few days though, plumbers not working on weekends and all. Screwing his eyes shut, Jensen considered who he should ring. Normally Jared would be his first port of call, but since Jared no longer lived on his own, he'd feel like he was intruding. Jim was off shooting something as was Richard. That left Misha who was...well...weird? Nice, but Jensen never quite knew how to act round him. He was too out there, coming out with the oddest things and having the most bizarre conversations that were so far removed from reality that it couldn't be classified as normal with the best of intentions. The man dreamt of being a sledge one night for crying out loud! Desperately searching for someone else's couch to crash on Jensen scrolled though his contacts. Shooting, holiday, married, too far, married, shooting shooting, Misha. Bugger. Sending a silent plea of despair, Jensen pressed call.
That's how Jensen ended up in Misha's apartment not an hour later looking curiously round a homely living room. The walls were a warm sunshine yellow, pictures hand crafted from various fabrics adorning the walls. A whole wall and a half was taken up with bookshelves bursting with texts on a range of topics from encyclopedias to teenage fiction books. Jensen dropped his bag of bare essentials next to the couch with a huff.
“So...” Misha began, standing in the doorway to what Jensen presumed to be the kitchen, “is it too early for tea?”
Blinking, Jensen looked at the older man. Too early for beer, he'd have understood, but tea? Despite having worked with Misha for a fair amount of time, Jensen still couldn't quite get the nuances of the other man.
“Jen?” the name came out tender and probing, cause Jensen to shake his head to clear his mind.
“It's not to early for tea.” he said, eyes roving from the room to Misha and back to the room. Tea, it turned out a few minutes later, wasn't just your run of the mill tea leaf brew. It was a blend of fruits, honey and spices that gave a heady aroma which wafted through the room. Jensen inhaled deeply into the rising steam, enjoying the warm steam that caressed his cheeks on it's way up.
“Where did you get this blend from?” he found himself asking.
“I made it.” Misha answered, perching on the corner of the table.
“You made this?” Jensen asked, incredulous. Misha just hummed into his mug, a cracked old thing, battered from time and use.
“Where?”
“My Mum taught me, she knew a thing or two about home brews.” the innocent comment was accompanied by a lewd wink and leer over the rim of the steaming mug in a jarring contradiction. Blushing and averting his gaze, Jensen sipped the warm liquid, letting the flavours burst over his tongue. His eyes slipped closed at the sensation, only to snap open with an accompanied fierce blush at the deep chuckle from the other side of the room.
“Love to stay and chat, but I've got work.” Misha said, placing his now empty mug onto the table. “Make yourself at home, don't annoy the neighbours and don't do anything I wouldn't.” with a final grin Misha slipped out of the house leaving Jensen alone in a clutter of a life he didn't understand and had no hope of solving.
It took him 5 minutes of sitting around politely not looking at anything too personal until he got bored. Standing up, he cautiously made his way over to the small dresser next to the bookshelves. Quietly he picked up one of the photo's on it, scared that any moment Misha will jump back into the room with loud shout and laugh at the Jensen caught red handed snooping round his apartment. However no such thing happened, Misha stayed gone and Jensen looked at the photo. It was a picture of a younger Misha with a range of animals surrounding him. A horse looming over his left shoulder while a pigeon perched on his right. A dog flanked him while another lay patiently at his feet. A few cats were also dotted around, slinking in the shadows. Misha himself was smiling, king in his mini domain. It was obvious that the animals all adored Misha as much as he them. Jensen found himself smiling back at the photo for some reason. He put it reverently back and looked at the other items left scattered around in what could only be seen as a mess. Though he was sure Misha would call it an organised mess or something similar. Over the next hour Jensen felt he got to know the man he so misunderstood a lot better. The little quirks and oddities slotted in with the stories pictures and items told. The battered mug that Misha had just used could be seen in numerous photos, the earliest one was a picture of who Jensen could only guess was Misha's grandfather. The wide range of books spanned Misha's eclectic and sometimes haphazard interests and knowledge, the man seemed to have no discerning taste and read every genre of book known to humanity. Jensen let out a snort of amusement when he saw A Brief History of Time wedged between Fabuland tales and the complete works of Goethe. The mystery was just beginning to unfold for Jensen when the door clicked and a quiet clearing of throat had Jensen hastily putting the hand carved totem back down with a clatter.
“I see you've made yourself at home.” Misha grinned. Jensen blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to pry.” he offered with a small sheepish smile.
“No worries, I leave those around to be looked at. The stuff I only show special people is in a box under the bed. You haven't looked at it have you?” the jokey manner of his question was underlined by a genuine concern but was barely detectable.
“No. No. I didn't go into your bedroom, I stayed here looking at the pictures and things.”
“Good. I wouldn't want you mentally scarred by your brief stay.” there was a cutting edge to his voice which raised Jensen's mental hackles.
“Look man, I'm sorry I interrupted your weekend and crashed here. Believe me, I didn't want to but you could have said no just as much.” he spat, mood swinging suddenly and violently.
“I know that.” Misha's voice was quiet in light of Jensen's snapping, he seemed a little cowed by the almost shouting. Jensen baulked at the response.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I just...long and stressful day you know.” he tried to explain.
“I know. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like always.” Misha's words were soft, filled with sorrow and haunted by memories best left forgotten. Without thinking Jensen was moving closer, reaching to wrap his arms round the slighter man. Initially Misha stood stiff in his arms then wrapped tentative arms round him to reciprocate the hug. It was a brief affair but when Misha pulled away to look at Jensen, neither moved to put distance between them. An uncertain smile ghosted across Misha's face.
“Thanks.” he offered mildly awkwardly.
“Not a problem. And sorry. Again. For the you know.” Jensen trailed off, eyes flicking round the room. He closed his eyes with a huff of bitter laughter.
“What's so funny?”
“Nothing. Just you. But not you. Just, I finally got something.” Jensen refused to meet the blue of Misha's curious eyes.
“That's not very encouraging.”
“It's just that, I finally got it. You. Me. Why I never could feel comfortable around you. How I just couldn't seem to be myself when you were there. You always put me on, not on edge, but like I had to behave. I had to impress.” Jensen babbled.
“That isn't very encouraging nor complimentary Jensen.” Misha's face bore no expression, completely blank and closed off again.
“It was because I like you. As in like like you.” Jensen blushed and ducked his head, only daring to glance up when he heard a softly exhaled “oh”. Misha was staring at him with wide eyes, his cheeks tinged. Jensen pushed against him, trying to put some distance between them.
“I guess this is the point where I leave.” he murmured. Misha's arms refused to let him go, pinning him close to the other man. Blue eyes fixed him with a curious gaze and pink lips pushed out into a thoughtful pout.
“It takes two to tango.” Misha rasped out. Eyes fixed on Jensen's before fluttering closed as he leant closer. Their lips brushed softly together, gently pressing and questing for permission. Slowly the pressure increased as they worked their mouths against each other, pushing the boundaries, licking along the other's lips and occasionally touching. Neither relented in the fight to establish dominance by opening up fully to the other. Their battle was cut short by the incessant and harsh ringing or Misha's mobile in his pocket. With a groan Misha pulled away but left one arm firmly round Jensen's waist, letting him pant gently against his neck.
“What?” he snapped into his phone. “What do you want me to do about it? Go and fix it. It's why I hired you, so get the damn job done. You said by the end of the weekend so I expect you to get it done by then!” Misha's voice rose in anger as he growled into the phone. “Now go do your job and quit bothering me with such banal stupidity!” the phone went flying into the couch cushions and Jensen stared at him with wide eyes.
“What?” Misha asked, slightly sheepishly.
“Nothing.” a blush crept across Jensen's cheeks. Shifting for a better angle to kiss the other man, Misha stopped short suddenly, one eyebrow cocked.
“Oh?” he asked teasingly. Jensen reddened further, trying to twist his hardening cock away from Misha's hip.
“Sorry.” he offered.
“Don't be.” Misha whispered, then he smiled. “Get to the bedroom. Now.” his voice was harsher as he ordered Jensen about. Swallowing hard and standing uncertainly for a moment, Jensen stared at the dark haired man before turning to scurry into the bedroom. He waited standing by the bed as Misha leisurely strolled in without his t-shirt.
“Good.” Misha smiled. “Strip and lie on the bed.”
Jensen eagerly complied, letting his clothes drop into a messy pile by his feet. Finally naked, he lay back on the bed, momentarily closing his eyes to feel the soft sheets and to hide his unease at lying to bare in front of anybody else.
“Open your eyes.” the command was softer and as he looked up, Misha was naked next to the bed, cock jutting up much the same way Jensen's was. Reaching down, Misha stroked Jensen's cheek with a thumb while the other lazily stroked his own cock. Jensen leant into the touch, one hand reaching to touch. It was smacked away almost immediately.
“I didn't tell you to touch. Stay still and just watch.” Misha ordered. “Eyes open.” he added. The hand left Jensen's cheek to trail down his chest, nails scraped lightly down over his nipples and abdomen making his muscles jump. An appreciative chuckle told him Misha was pleased with his reactions.
“So good for me Jen. So hard for me.” Misha praised, his hand forming a firm fist round Jensen's cock. He gave it a few experimental strokes before setting up an easy rhythm. It took Jensen and embarrassingly quick time to be writhing under Misha's hand, releasing a disappointed groan when the grip loosened and moved cup his balls and fingers trailed down to his hole.
“Keep watching me.” Misha commanded as he poured lube on his fingers. “Eyes open Jen.” he reminded the man sprawled below him as slippery fingers began circling his hole. He pushed his first finger in, eyes flicking between what he was doing and Jensen's face, looking for any sort of reaction or signs of discomfort. Instead Jensen's head flopped back onto the pillow and his hand drifted down his stomach to grasp his cock.
“Jensen.” he barked. Green eyes flew open to look at him abashedly while his hand moved back down to grip the covers. A second finger pushing slowly into his tight heat had Jensen whining as he fought to keep his eyes open and fixed on Misha.
“Misha, please.” he whined.
“Did I say you could talk?” Misha growled, thrusting with his fingers harder and deeper than before causing Jensen to arch off the bed.
“Did I?” Misha asked again.
“No. Sorry.” Jensen gasped.
“Better. You learn quickly Jensen, well done.” Misha praised, stroking his fingers over Jensen's prostate as a reward. It gained him another whine and he could feel Jensen fighting to urge to thrust back down onto his fingers. Satisfied with him, Misha pulled his fingers out and watched as Jensen settled back, torn between disappointment at the lack of pleasure and the anticipation glinting in his eyes at what was to come. Settling between his legs, Misha spread lube over himself before crawling up Jensen's body, claiming his lips. His tongue slid easily between parted and willing lips as his cock slowly pushed into the pliant body below him. He swallowed each moan and cry Jensen gave as he bottomed out, fully sheathed in the other man. Pulling his head back slightly, he looked at Jensen, taking in the sweaty brown, eyes pleading with him and his reddened mouth slightly open and panting. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
“You are beautiful.” Misha murmured as he slowly slid out of the gripping heat of his lover. Pushing back in, he found less resistance much to his relief. He took each of Jensen's hands, kissed them before placing them above his head.
“Keep them there.” he ordered. Jensen nodded eagerly. Pushing himself up onto his arms, Misha rolled his hips experimentally before drawing out again. He thrust back in with a moan.
“So tight Jen, so good, all for me.” he gasped between thrusts. He knew he hit the right spot when Jensen's back arched and his arms reflexively came down to touch himself. Before Misha could react though, Jensen caught up with himself and pushed his arms back above his head.
“Good boy.” Misha smiled and took hold of Jensen's neglected member. With a small whimper Jensen thrust into the offered tightness. They were both close, so close.
“Please Misha, can I come? Please can I come?” Jensen babbled.
“Wait for it.” Misha gasped, barely holding on himself. He tightened his fist at the base of Jensen's cock, staving off his immediate orgasm. Jensen bit off a swear word, his hips thrusting helplessly. Misha pushed deeper into him at a punishing rate. Moments before his own climax, he gave Jensen a few rough jerk of his fist, gritting out a gravelly “come for me Jensen”. He felt his lover quiver beneath him and shake through his release, muscles clamping round his own straining cock, milking him through his orgasm.
Shaking with pleasure, Misha collapsed onto Jensen, breathing hard. Eventually he rolled over and reached for some tissues to clean them up. Once done, he pulled the covers over them, both sated and sleepy. Just before they finally drifted off to sleep, Jensen mumbled something.
“What was that?” Misha asked.
“You never did say, who was it on the phone?”
“A repair man.”
“Huh?”
“I went out to get someone to fix your flat. I hired an idiot.” Misha chuckled.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I didn't know either, Jen. How to act around you. I wanted you to go as soon as possible so I could ignore the problem.”
“Oh. Do you still want me gone?” Jensen's voice was small and uncertain.
“Don't be so silly. Now go to sleep. Actually, before you do, what are you doing next weekend?” The only answer he got was a sleepy chuckle and what could be deciphered as “you”.
Author: vaderina
Recipient: etcetera_kit
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Word count: 2874
Disclaimer: I know nothing of these people's actual lives. This is just a story for fun, no profit, nothing gained.
Warnings: Sub/Dom undertones, mild reference to past issues.
Prompt: Jensen has never been able to figure out Misha. During a break in LA, Jensen can't stay at his own house (fire, remodeling, pest control, et al) and stays with Misha. During the weekend, they start to figure out that maybe it wasn't being unable to figure them out, but being unable to identify how they felt.
Sighing, Jensen took in the view of his flat. The wallpaper was peeling off the wall, dripping gooey mass to further ruin the already soaking and stained carpets. His bedroom smelt stale and looked revolting. Turning to sit on the dry bit of his couch Jensen rubbed his eyes. Of course the people in the flat about had to try and renovate their own flat and cock it up. The result? A broken sewage pipe and a hole in his living room ceiling, ruining both his bed and couch. At least the couch just had water on it. He needed to get a new bed once the idiots upstairs have managed to fix their problems. That wouldn't be for a few days though, plumbers not working on weekends and all. Screwing his eyes shut, Jensen considered who he should ring. Normally Jared would be his first port of call, but since Jared no longer lived on his own, he'd feel like he was intruding. Jim was off shooting something as was Richard. That left Misha who was...well...weird? Nice, but Jensen never quite knew how to act round him. He was too out there, coming out with the oddest things and having the most bizarre conversations that were so far removed from reality that it couldn't be classified as normal with the best of intentions. The man dreamt of being a sledge one night for crying out loud! Desperately searching for someone else's couch to crash on Jensen scrolled though his contacts. Shooting, holiday, married, too far, married, shooting shooting, Misha. Bugger. Sending a silent plea of despair, Jensen pressed call.
That's how Jensen ended up in Misha's apartment not an hour later looking curiously round a homely living room. The walls were a warm sunshine yellow, pictures hand crafted from various fabrics adorning the walls. A whole wall and a half was taken up with bookshelves bursting with texts on a range of topics from encyclopedias to teenage fiction books. Jensen dropped his bag of bare essentials next to the couch with a huff.
“So...” Misha began, standing in the doorway to what Jensen presumed to be the kitchen, “is it too early for tea?”
Blinking, Jensen looked at the older man. Too early for beer, he'd have understood, but tea? Despite having worked with Misha for a fair amount of time, Jensen still couldn't quite get the nuances of the other man.
“Jen?” the name came out tender and probing, cause Jensen to shake his head to clear his mind.
“It's not to early for tea.” he said, eyes roving from the room to Misha and back to the room. Tea, it turned out a few minutes later, wasn't just your run of the mill tea leaf brew. It was a blend of fruits, honey and spices that gave a heady aroma which wafted through the room. Jensen inhaled deeply into the rising steam, enjoying the warm steam that caressed his cheeks on it's way up.
“Where did you get this blend from?” he found himself asking.
“I made it.” Misha answered, perching on the corner of the table.
“You made this?” Jensen asked, incredulous. Misha just hummed into his mug, a cracked old thing, battered from time and use.
“Where?”
“My Mum taught me, she knew a thing or two about home brews.” the innocent comment was accompanied by a lewd wink and leer over the rim of the steaming mug in a jarring contradiction. Blushing and averting his gaze, Jensen sipped the warm liquid, letting the flavours burst over his tongue. His eyes slipped closed at the sensation, only to snap open with an accompanied fierce blush at the deep chuckle from the other side of the room.
“Love to stay and chat, but I've got work.” Misha said, placing his now empty mug onto the table. “Make yourself at home, don't annoy the neighbours and don't do anything I wouldn't.” with a final grin Misha slipped out of the house leaving Jensen alone in a clutter of a life he didn't understand and had no hope of solving.
It took him 5 minutes of sitting around politely not looking at anything too personal until he got bored. Standing up, he cautiously made his way over to the small dresser next to the bookshelves. Quietly he picked up one of the photo's on it, scared that any moment Misha will jump back into the room with loud shout and laugh at the Jensen caught red handed snooping round his apartment. However no such thing happened, Misha stayed gone and Jensen looked at the photo. It was a picture of a younger Misha with a range of animals surrounding him. A horse looming over his left shoulder while a pigeon perched on his right. A dog flanked him while another lay patiently at his feet. A few cats were also dotted around, slinking in the shadows. Misha himself was smiling, king in his mini domain. It was obvious that the animals all adored Misha as much as he them. Jensen found himself smiling back at the photo for some reason. He put it reverently back and looked at the other items left scattered around in what could only be seen as a mess. Though he was sure Misha would call it an organised mess or something similar. Over the next hour Jensen felt he got to know the man he so misunderstood a lot better. The little quirks and oddities slotted in with the stories pictures and items told. The battered mug that Misha had just used could be seen in numerous photos, the earliest one was a picture of who Jensen could only guess was Misha's grandfather. The wide range of books spanned Misha's eclectic and sometimes haphazard interests and knowledge, the man seemed to have no discerning taste and read every genre of book known to humanity. Jensen let out a snort of amusement when he saw A Brief History of Time wedged between Fabuland tales and the complete works of Goethe. The mystery was just beginning to unfold for Jensen when the door clicked and a quiet clearing of throat had Jensen hastily putting the hand carved totem back down with a clatter.
“I see you've made yourself at home.” Misha grinned. Jensen blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to pry.” he offered with a small sheepish smile.
“No worries, I leave those around to be looked at. The stuff I only show special people is in a box under the bed. You haven't looked at it have you?” the jokey manner of his question was underlined by a genuine concern but was barely detectable.
“No. No. I didn't go into your bedroom, I stayed here looking at the pictures and things.”
“Good. I wouldn't want you mentally scarred by your brief stay.” there was a cutting edge to his voice which raised Jensen's mental hackles.
“Look man, I'm sorry I interrupted your weekend and crashed here. Believe me, I didn't want to but you could have said no just as much.” he spat, mood swinging suddenly and violently.
“I know that.” Misha's voice was quiet in light of Jensen's snapping, he seemed a little cowed by the almost shouting. Jensen baulked at the response.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I just...long and stressful day you know.” he tried to explain.
“I know. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like always.” Misha's words were soft, filled with sorrow and haunted by memories best left forgotten. Without thinking Jensen was moving closer, reaching to wrap his arms round the slighter man. Initially Misha stood stiff in his arms then wrapped tentative arms round him to reciprocate the hug. It was a brief affair but when Misha pulled away to look at Jensen, neither moved to put distance between them. An uncertain smile ghosted across Misha's face.
“Thanks.” he offered mildly awkwardly.
“Not a problem. And sorry. Again. For the you know.” Jensen trailed off, eyes flicking round the room. He closed his eyes with a huff of bitter laughter.
“What's so funny?”
“Nothing. Just you. But not you. Just, I finally got something.” Jensen refused to meet the blue of Misha's curious eyes.
“That's not very encouraging.”
“It's just that, I finally got it. You. Me. Why I never could feel comfortable around you. How I just couldn't seem to be myself when you were there. You always put me on, not on edge, but like I had to behave. I had to impress.” Jensen babbled.
“That isn't very encouraging nor complimentary Jensen.” Misha's face bore no expression, completely blank and closed off again.
“It was because I like you. As in like like you.” Jensen blushed and ducked his head, only daring to glance up when he heard a softly exhaled “oh”. Misha was staring at him with wide eyes, his cheeks tinged. Jensen pushed against him, trying to put some distance between them.
“I guess this is the point where I leave.” he murmured. Misha's arms refused to let him go, pinning him close to the other man. Blue eyes fixed him with a curious gaze and pink lips pushed out into a thoughtful pout.
“It takes two to tango.” Misha rasped out. Eyes fixed on Jensen's before fluttering closed as he leant closer. Their lips brushed softly together, gently pressing and questing for permission. Slowly the pressure increased as they worked their mouths against each other, pushing the boundaries, licking along the other's lips and occasionally touching. Neither relented in the fight to establish dominance by opening up fully to the other. Their battle was cut short by the incessant and harsh ringing or Misha's mobile in his pocket. With a groan Misha pulled away but left one arm firmly round Jensen's waist, letting him pant gently against his neck.
“What?” he snapped into his phone. “What do you want me to do about it? Go and fix it. It's why I hired you, so get the damn job done. You said by the end of the weekend so I expect you to get it done by then!” Misha's voice rose in anger as he growled into the phone. “Now go do your job and quit bothering me with such banal stupidity!” the phone went flying into the couch cushions and Jensen stared at him with wide eyes.
“What?” Misha asked, slightly sheepishly.
“Nothing.” a blush crept across Jensen's cheeks. Shifting for a better angle to kiss the other man, Misha stopped short suddenly, one eyebrow cocked.
“Oh?” he asked teasingly. Jensen reddened further, trying to twist his hardening cock away from Misha's hip.
“Sorry.” he offered.
“Don't be.” Misha whispered, then he smiled. “Get to the bedroom. Now.” his voice was harsher as he ordered Jensen about. Swallowing hard and standing uncertainly for a moment, Jensen stared at the dark haired man before turning to scurry into the bedroom. He waited standing by the bed as Misha leisurely strolled in without his t-shirt.
“Good.” Misha smiled. “Strip and lie on the bed.”
Jensen eagerly complied, letting his clothes drop into a messy pile by his feet. Finally naked, he lay back on the bed, momentarily closing his eyes to feel the soft sheets and to hide his unease at lying to bare in front of anybody else.
“Open your eyes.” the command was softer and as he looked up, Misha was naked next to the bed, cock jutting up much the same way Jensen's was. Reaching down, Misha stroked Jensen's cheek with a thumb while the other lazily stroked his own cock. Jensen leant into the touch, one hand reaching to touch. It was smacked away almost immediately.
“I didn't tell you to touch. Stay still and just watch.” Misha ordered. “Eyes open.” he added. The hand left Jensen's cheek to trail down his chest, nails scraped lightly down over his nipples and abdomen making his muscles jump. An appreciative chuckle told him Misha was pleased with his reactions.
“So good for me Jen. So hard for me.” Misha praised, his hand forming a firm fist round Jensen's cock. He gave it a few experimental strokes before setting up an easy rhythm. It took Jensen and embarrassingly quick time to be writhing under Misha's hand, releasing a disappointed groan when the grip loosened and moved cup his balls and fingers trailed down to his hole.
“Keep watching me.” Misha commanded as he poured lube on his fingers. “Eyes open Jen.” he reminded the man sprawled below him as slippery fingers began circling his hole. He pushed his first finger in, eyes flicking between what he was doing and Jensen's face, looking for any sort of reaction or signs of discomfort. Instead Jensen's head flopped back onto the pillow and his hand drifted down his stomach to grasp his cock.
“Jensen.” he barked. Green eyes flew open to look at him abashedly while his hand moved back down to grip the covers. A second finger pushing slowly into his tight heat had Jensen whining as he fought to keep his eyes open and fixed on Misha.
“Misha, please.” he whined.
“Did I say you could talk?” Misha growled, thrusting with his fingers harder and deeper than before causing Jensen to arch off the bed.
“Did I?” Misha asked again.
“No. Sorry.” Jensen gasped.
“Better. You learn quickly Jensen, well done.” Misha praised, stroking his fingers over Jensen's prostate as a reward. It gained him another whine and he could feel Jensen fighting to urge to thrust back down onto his fingers. Satisfied with him, Misha pulled his fingers out and watched as Jensen settled back, torn between disappointment at the lack of pleasure and the anticipation glinting in his eyes at what was to come. Settling between his legs, Misha spread lube over himself before crawling up Jensen's body, claiming his lips. His tongue slid easily between parted and willing lips as his cock slowly pushed into the pliant body below him. He swallowed each moan and cry Jensen gave as he bottomed out, fully sheathed in the other man. Pulling his head back slightly, he looked at Jensen, taking in the sweaty brown, eyes pleading with him and his reddened mouth slightly open and panting. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
“You are beautiful.” Misha murmured as he slowly slid out of the gripping heat of his lover. Pushing back in, he found less resistance much to his relief. He took each of Jensen's hands, kissed them before placing them above his head.
“Keep them there.” he ordered. Jensen nodded eagerly. Pushing himself up onto his arms, Misha rolled his hips experimentally before drawing out again. He thrust back in with a moan.
“So tight Jen, so good, all for me.” he gasped between thrusts. He knew he hit the right spot when Jensen's back arched and his arms reflexively came down to touch himself. Before Misha could react though, Jensen caught up with himself and pushed his arms back above his head.
“Good boy.” Misha smiled and took hold of Jensen's neglected member. With a small whimper Jensen thrust into the offered tightness. They were both close, so close.
“Please Misha, can I come? Please can I come?” Jensen babbled.
“Wait for it.” Misha gasped, barely holding on himself. He tightened his fist at the base of Jensen's cock, staving off his immediate orgasm. Jensen bit off a swear word, his hips thrusting helplessly. Misha pushed deeper into him at a punishing rate. Moments before his own climax, he gave Jensen a few rough jerk of his fist, gritting out a gravelly “come for me Jensen”. He felt his lover quiver beneath him and shake through his release, muscles clamping round his own straining cock, milking him through his orgasm.
Shaking with pleasure, Misha collapsed onto Jensen, breathing hard. Eventually he rolled over and reached for some tissues to clean them up. Once done, he pulled the covers over them, both sated and sleepy. Just before they finally drifted off to sleep, Jensen mumbled something.
“What was that?” Misha asked.
“You never did say, who was it on the phone?”
“A repair man.”
“Huh?”
“I went out to get someone to fix your flat. I hired an idiot.” Misha chuckled.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I didn't know either, Jen. How to act around you. I wanted you to go as soon as possible so I could ignore the problem.”
“Oh. Do you still want me gone?” Jensen's voice was small and uncertain.
“Don't be so silly. Now go to sleep. Actually, before you do, what are you doing next weekend?” The only answer he got was a sleepy chuckle and what could be deciphered as “you”.