Fanfction: Listen To Me
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Mentions of online bullying, I suppose? Rimming. Sex between two consenting males.
Summary: from Supernatural Kink Community http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/59871.html?thread=17724127#t17724127
prompt: Jensen discovers the Misha hate campaign on tumbler and twitter. Although Misha is getting loads of love from his fans and colleagues, it's Jensen's approval he really craves. Jensen shows Misha just how much he appreciates him with slow, loving sex.
AN: Holy shit, I'm actually posting to my journal for the first time. And it's smut. Go freaking figure.
Again, I am so sorry to the Mods at spn kink community. I feel like a twerp.
Misha occassionaly enjoyed a day off. He really did. Acting was something he enjoyed, but even a professional pastry chef just wants a huge steak dinner sometimes. So yeah, he liked a break. Season 8 was already shaping up to be a pretty tough one. And he was happy that all the Cas scenes were done for episode 1.
So a day off was a good thing. His mother used to encourage them- said they were good for the soul. Then again she had 4 rather energetic kids to deal with, so if anyone needed a Saturday to themselves, it was Misha's parents.
He'd had vague plans for his time too. To check his tweets. To finish off his latest wood-working project, or go for a long jog in cool Canadian autumn weather. To plan Date Night with Jensen (even though Date night was really just a child-safe way of describing te two of them spending ten minutes somewhere pretending to be interested then finding a motel room for a few hours to have crazy loud sex without waking their prudish neighbours) or take Vicky for lunch.
The fact was though, that Misha was wasting it by hiding under the covers in his bed like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum.
Why? Because 'no-one liked him'. Pathetic. He had thousands of over-excitable women who screamed when he went on stage, who had spent the morning tweeting his love for him, who would gouge out the eyes of all those who offended him if he asked.
But they weren't who he wanted to tell him he was great. To tell him he was awesome and that he could do anything.
They weren't Jensen.
Vicky was humming. It sounded nice. She was good friend to come over at short notice. It made Misha feel like a jerk. Lying in bed, wallowing while someone took care of him and coodled him. He was thirty six years old, for god's sake.
Victoria hadn't even asked why he was so upset- just gave him a cuddle at the door and ushered him back into bed with that faint motherly air she had always possessed. Gave him a hot chocolate just the way he liked it and tucked him in. Didn't push him. Didn't pry- she knew it was someone elses job to cheer him up now. Didn't even laugh at him when she brought him some lunch and found him crying over his iPhone (yes, Misha cried, like a sookie baby. He could admit it. He was just more secure in his masculinity than most guys- or at least thats what he liked to use as an excuse).
Vicky's humming was almost too pleasant, and Misha buried his head in his pillow. He wanted Jen.He wanted Twitter and Tumblr to magically and simultainiously implode and delete those stupid communities.
He wanted to know what was so freaking *bad* about him.
Had he kicked a litter of puppies into the path of a semi? Had he vandalised a war memorial? Killed someone? Laughed at a crying baby? Or was it just him?
Was he that abrasive and pushy and loud and untalented and everything else under the sun that people didn't like? He didn't realise that people were that offended by him. He thought he... fuck it. Fuck them all. They didn't have the right to make him feel like an ineffectual waste of space. Misha was better than that. He made to get out of the covers-
- then caught sight of his iPhone on the bedside table. Felt something queasy erupt in his tummy. Flopped back down onto the pillows with a lump rising in his throat.
So much for 'Misha is better than this'. He pulled the duvet over his head and wished he wasn't as pathetic as he felt.
---
Jensen loved directing. It was a good challenge. But by God, he was happy to hand the reins over to Ben. There was only so much more he could take. He liked directing. He loved acting. Combining the two was an exercise in patience. Another day and he would have killed someone. Probably Jared. It was like the bastard saved up all his gas until he with within Jensen's smelling range. He loved the big lug, but really. Guy needed his stomach checked.
Right now he wanted to go home and climb into bed next to Misha. Snuggle into the warmt of thier shared space and indugle in married lifes simple pleasures. Thats all.
And for a milli-second, he thought he'd be able to do it.
"Jen- hey Jensen, wait-"
Jared's voice boomed over the lot, like it had been applified by a loud-speaker. He was lolloping over like a big German sheppard, and normally Jen would have smiled at how puppyish he could get. But instead, he felt a frown furrow his brow. It wasn't that he didn't want to see him or anything, but as he approached it was clearer and clearer that Jared looked upset. When he came to a halt next to the shorter man, his hands started to twist a little- a sure sign of worry- and he looked tense, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. For a second he thought- " Is Genevive okay?"
"What?" Jared looked momentarily horrified at the thought, "Jesus, no, *no*. Look, can we- wanna come in...?" He motioned with his head towards his trailer. "Have a beer, there's something you might wanna see before you go home."
Shit, they weren't getting cancelled, were they? Replaced? Was a total jack-ass joining the cast? The curiosity was enough to get hin to follow Jared inside, the bigger man already at his laptop. He could see the website pop up on the screen. Twitter.
Dammit, what had Misha said now?
Jensen heaved a sigh. He really didn't want something to fight over when he went home, hopefully it wouldn't be so bad. He perched over Jared's shoulder and while for a second the glare and his lack of reading glasses made it too blurry to see. But then his eyes adjusted. His head started to hurt as he read, and as girly as it felt to think, his heart broke a little.
This was... okay, this was freakin' *mean*.
"And look, they've been tweeting me and Jim..." Jared right-clicked and opened another tab onto his own Twitter page, and then another on Jim's. A few seconds later, and Jensen was ready to spit chips.
"What the fuck-!"
"I know. I mean, come on." Jared looked like someone had cancelled Christmas and replaced it with mandatory jury duty. "What do think we'll do, go to Ben and tell him to fire-"
Jensen pushed away after reading another entry on the group. This was one-part stupidity, another part bastardry. How dare they- his husband- they couldn't say that... just... what the *fuck*. He had the vaguest hope that Misha hadn't seen this yet, but the man practically lived on Twitter- if it was a place, he'd have to be dragged away, kicking and screaming.
"Dammit." Jensen headed over to Jared's little fridge. He was really going to need that beer. Plus ten more.
---
Jensen checked Misha's own twitter feed on the journey home. There was nothing from today, which was more worrisome then if he'd logged on with something possibly career damaging. Not to mention it meant he was walking in un-prepared for how Misha was feeling.
45 minutes later, and he was walking through the door, trying to be quiet in case Misha was asleep, it was after 10:00 after all.
A clip-clopping sound coming from the bathroom that reminded Jensen of horses distantly, and he realised it was the sound of high heels on the tile flooring. A second later, and Vicky came out, her boots muffled by the carpet and a small, welcoming smile on her face. Of course. If Misha was having a bad day, and he couldn't have Jensen, Vicky is was.
"Hey." She went over to the coffee machine and turned it on for him. "Uh, look, before you-"
"Yeah, I've been told." Jensen cut her off gently. He loved Vicky, but he hoped she left in a hurry. He just wanted a night for him and Misha, to make him feel better.
But Vicky, saint that she was,seemed to feel the mildly frustrated, rather unwelcoming vibes radiating from him that she had long since learnt 'I want you to leave, but I'm too nice a guy to say so' and nodded, her brown eyes glancing towards the master bedroom where Misha was most likely hiding in bed. "I'd better get going, it's late and I have a cat that, no matter how I try to teach her, won't feed herself, so..."
Victoria hoisted her handbag over shoulder from her spot near the couch. She wasn't very good at hiding her worry, and it made Jensen's gut clench. "He hasn't eaten much today, he only came out to use the bathroom. Won't tell me whats wrong, but... I'm guessing you'll get it out of him in no time. I ordered Thai, it's in the microwave." With a 'good luck, she'd charged out in a whirl of red hair. The house immediately felt more morose.
He did microwave the Thai, dolled it onto two plates- the unidentifiable meaty stuff for him, the vegetarian stir-fry for his husband- and headed to the bedroom.
The only light came from the hallway and the bedside lamp. Apart from the heaving lump under the covers, Jensen would have thought the room was unoccupied.
"Misha? Darlin'?"
A movement, then a fluffy brown tuft rose from the pillows. A hoarse whisper on "Jenny?" made the ache in Jensen's chest worsen.
"Hey, baby." He crept closer. "Got dinner here. You hungry?"
Sigh. "A little, yeah." Misha shifted, but didn't lower the blankets. "Where's Vick?"
"She went home. Her and her cat are gonna have daquarii's and paint each others nails."
"Oh. She didn't come say goodnight." God, Misha sounded timid. Depressed. Jensen wanted to go find every idiot who was on that stupid group and knock them out, drag them here, and show them what they'd reduced the most vibrant man on the planet to.
A little boy who felt unloved, hiding in bed and weeping. It was a terribly sad sight.
Misha turned over from where he was on his belly onto his back, and the sight got sadder. His mouth was downturned. His eyes were crossroads or red. His cheeks were puffy.
Jensen could only lift the plates helplessly and ask, "Feeling okay?"
The smaller man must have realised that his facial features were a little blurred, and shrugged a little. "I think I'm getting a cold or something."
"Yeah, sure." The blonde put the plates down on Misha's bedside table. "And Jared's a midget." He kicked of his shoes, his jeans and took off his button down, leaving him in just his boxers and tshirt. "Speaking of Lurch, he showed me a certain Twitter account."
Misha's face twitched when he winced, but otherwise maintained his cool. "Oh really? Charlie Sheen's?"
"Nice try. Guess again, sunshine." That lovely face seemed to still with unhappiness. Jensen wished he could make him smile again.
Misha went quiet, then eventually, shrugged again, nonchalance badly feigned. "It's fine. Everyone's got some haters. I bet you do. Jared. Jim, Mark, hell, George Clooney probably has some crazies who want his head on a stick... part of the job, really..." He trailed off, and Jensen saw him glancing at his iPhone. Before he could be stopped, the bigger man grabbed it.
The words, "I Hate Misha Collins Day" stared up at him. Jensen sighed. "Mish... tell me you haven't been looking at this all day."
A dark head bowed down slightly, staring at the phone like it was a large funnel-web spider about to jump at him and bite.
Jensen watched him quietly. Pestering would just get either sarcasm, defelction, or an arguement. Like a frightened animal, it was best to let Misha come to him. He grabbed hs plate, and started to eat. He was pretty sure it was yellow curry. The colour was a bit of a give away, but then again, you never quite knew for sure with Thai food.
After his plate was clean- god, he hadn't even realised since he started to eat how hungry he'd been when Misha's surprisingly small voice cut through the sound of chewing.
"Am I that irritating? Is... my acting that *bad*, I..." he made a sad noise in his throat, "I just, I'm trying and I thought I was doing okay-"
"Hey, stop it, you're good actor-"
"Yeah, but you're kinda biased." He layed down again, staring at the ceiling. "Should I just quit?" He burst out.
"No!" Jensen's voice was sharper than he intended. He lowered it deliberately. "No. These guys are idiots-"
"But they're right. I am irritating, and over-bearing, and attention-seeking and if I wasn't on the show it's probably be better, hell, Castiel-"
"Is the best this that ever happened to us. Misha-" Jensen scooted closer and placed a hand on Misha's pale chest, right over that cute little freckle he loved to kiss. "Look. Don't let them do this. Okay? They're over-opinionated morons. They can't do anything, except if you let them. Hell, this is the only effect they're gonna get, and the only they really need- to make you feel like crap."
Misha shook his head, and tried to turn over, but Jensen was faster and grabbed his shoulders gently. "No, you listen to me. You said I was biased? Of course I fucking am! I'm your freakin' husband. The only person you should be listening to is me! It's my opinion that matters, not theirs! These people don't need you to listen to them. You don't need to pay them attention! You certainly shouldn't be listening to them when they talk shit like that."
"You're married. You have great friends. There is a swarm of... mildly insane young women that will claw out the eyes of anyone that badmouths you. Why the hell are you listening to a few dozen bitches?" He touched his husbands chin gently. "Listen to *me* now. I love you. And you're amazing."
Misha was looking considerably better, and Jensen kept going. "They don't matter. I do. And I say you should forget about it, go to sleep, wake up, and brush it off. Because it. Doesn't. Matter. Now, eat your damn tofu shit."
Misha grinned a little, and grabbed his plate, which had long since cooled from it's reheating. He ate though, suddenly starving and soon the dish was virtually liked clean.
"Shit Mish, it was vegetable curry. Not like it was going to be taken away if you didn't scarf it."
Misha smirked, and leant forward, placing a long, curry flavoured kiss onto Jensens' mouth.
He blinked. "What was that for?"
"I just... needed you to tell me that. The minions are great, but... they aren't married to me. No matter what they wish." He bit his lip slightly. "I needed the reality check. Thats all." Misha took their plates and put the aside, then leapt forwards, the second kiss a hell of a lot harder and hotter than before. Jensen pulled back, and smiled softly.
"Lay down."
"Wha-"
"Lay down." Jensen grabbed those skinny shoulders again, and pushed until Misha was settled against the soft pillows. He opened that pink mouth of his to talk, before Jensen smashed his down on top of it. A tweak to Misha's right nipple had his mouth opening in a grown his husband swallowed easily, nipping at his lower lip and rubbing the slowly hardening nub. Jensen pulled away enough to murmur, "Le'mme take care of you... let me-"
He bent down and started placing suckling bites to Misha's neck and shoulders that would no doubt have the makeup department rolling their eyes and smirking at them on Monday, but he couldn't stop- Misha tasted so sweet and warm, and the soft cooing noises coming from deep in this throat were gorgeous.
A quick tug, and Misha's boxer briefs- bright green and silky with tiny pink and purple cat heads, good god, what had he married into?- were pulled down his thighs, getting twisted for a second and making Misha snort. "Oh impressive. A real classy move themmmph..."
Kissing Misha was always an enjoyable and effective way to shut him up. Sucking on his nipples and running his tongue over the nubbins until he squarked was an even better one.
Jensen eventually had to pull away just to get those ridiculous man-panties of Misha's of his holyshitperfect legs. Seriously, as long and smooth as a models, calves shapely from nature-hiking and toned from yoga, thighs with perfect little shallows and oh, the dimples. Misha had little dimples on the inside of his thighs that Jensen just couldn't keep his mouth away from. Licking them alway had a way of making the smaller man purr like a contented cat.
"Jeeeen-" Misha whined when the blonde moved up from his thighs to lap at the crease between his balls, then further down to wet the patch of skin above his hole. Jensen smiled a little around his tongue. God, Misha was a complete slut for rimming, and really, it was a good thing that Jensen loved to make him happy.
With a lift, Misha's perfect thighs were resting on Jensen's shoulders, his knees hitting his shoulder blades and the tips of his toes hitting Jensen's ass. That pretty pink hole was flexing and clenching with anticipation, and Jensen blew a breath over it to hear Misha squeak with suprised arousal. A little chuckle, and Jensen's own soft mouth had connected with the furl. The moan that Misha let out was like audial wine- heady and sweet and curling low into Jensen's belly. Good- he wanted Misha to enjoy this. He wanted to make him feel good.
The tip teased around the rim, prodding and stimulating slightly as a warm up. The pink was already darkening from the contact, and Jensen lifted his head to take a glance at his small husband. His cock was drooling pre-come over his stomach, a full body flush colouring normally pale skin. It was like being presented a gourmet feast. Jensen smiled at the thought that it was all his for the tasting, and bent back to his task.
This time the prods were harder, aiming to lick Misha open, slowly coaxing then, when it began to unfurl and puff up from the slick toying, spearing minutely at his entrance until his hole was letting him in slowly. Inviting him inside.
He withdrew just enough for Misha to make a frustrated noise, then picked up the pace of the whole shindig, and stiffened his tongue, plunging it in as far as he could and feeling that perfect slender torso arch under his hands, his fingers grasping wing-like hipbones.
And then Misha began to scream, because one hand had snaked down to start jerking his dick quickly, the strong muscle of Jensens tongue fucking in and out of his ass as fast as he could get it to. It wasn't as deep as a finger, certainly not as deep as Jensen could get his cock, but it was enough to make Misha's nerves spark and dance like crazy.
He was getting close, he could feel Misha's little hole starting to clench down on the small intrution, so Jensen let his other hand coast down to press down hard against his perineum making Misha arch once, twice. And suddenly Jensen's hand was coated with warm, sticky come, and his tongue was squeezed by over-stimulated, tensing muscles, his hole trying to milk as much pleasure as he could and extend his orgasm for as long as possible. Jensen knew he'd float in the pleasure forever if he could.
But it ended eventually, and Jensen felt the softening dick in his fingers give one last spurt of semen before Misha lapsed into shivers. Jensen mentally patted himself on the back- Misha lookedlike he didn't even remember his name, let alone that fucking abusive twitter feed.
He lifted himself up and pulled until Misha was spooned against his front, and felt his husband trying tp sit up weakly."Wait, what about you?"
Jensen shook his head slightly. "You can make it up to me later. Maybe when someone starts a 'I Hate Jensen Ackles' website."
"Oh calm down." Misha yawned. "It probably already exists."
"Gee, thanks. Yor supposed to say, 'Why my love, no one could ever do that to you, and if they did, I'd kick their pert behinds!'" His voice was fluttery and high-pitched.
Misha snorted. "Please, that makes me sound all supportive and loving, what am I, your wife?" He snuggled a little bit backwards, his dark, slightly sweaty dark hair brushing Jensens' nose. He kissed the back of his head in response.
Still, he grinned hugely when Misha mumbled, " trust me, I'll make it worth your while as loudly and slutty as I can in the morning."
Jensen had never been so in love.
---
The next morning, when Jensen woke up, it was to the distant smell of Misha making his awesome mini-breakfast frittatas and singing that sounded like a dog getting trodden on. So that was enough to let Jensen know that yesterday was already settling into the zone of a bad memory. Still, Misha's iPhone was still sitting on his bedside- the plates from last night were gone- and Jensen grabbed it. Misha's account was still open.
* Some jerks are trying to get me fired but it's not gonna be easy because I've got seniority at the gas station where I'm working these days *
Jensen grinned, and headed out to the kitchen to eat his breakfast... off of Misha's ass.