fic: reaching towards translucency
Title: reaching towards translucency
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Misha/Jensen
Word Count: 844
Rating: PGish
Heads-up: Umm, adorable schmoop
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: I blame this on all the pics of eyeliner-wearing Jensen being posted in ontd_spnparty tonight.
Jensen's almost gotten used to opening his trailer door and finding Misha sprawled across his couch, bare feet dangling over the armrest as he reads a book or stares at the ceiling.
Today is no different, except Misha brought his laptop and is furiously typing away when Jensen walks in. Jensen shakes his head, dumping his stuff on the tiny kitchen counter and emptying his pockets. The day's over, and he's ready to collect his things and head home for the night.
The couch creaks, and when Jensen turns around, Misha's suddenly right there behind him.
"I've been wondering about this," Misha murmurs as he reaches out and grasps Jensen's shoulder, pushing him down on to the armless chair behind him. Jensen sits with a low oomph and tilts his head so that he's staring up at Misha.
"About wha...?" Jensen starts, but his voice trails off when Misha keeps moving forward, legs spreading wider until Misha's ass is resting on Jensen's thighs. Jensen's tempted to hitch his hips up, see exactly how close Misha is, but Jensen takes a second too long, and then Misha's pressing in even closer, grin flashing white.
Misha leans to the side, reaching for something tucked away in his bag, and Jensen twists his head to watch. "Nu uh," Misha chides, cupping Jensen's face in his hand. "Not yet."
Jensen frowns, unsure of what's going on, and he shifts in his seat. "Misha?" he murmurs, keeping his eyes on the other man's profile, grinning in spite of himself when he sees Misha's tongue sticking out the side of his mouth.
"Got it." Misha grins as he pivots back around to face Jensen. "Now, close your eyes."
Jensen opens his mouth to protest, but Misha sweeps his thumb across Jensen's chin, barely brushing over the corner of his mouth. "Please?" He asks, and Jensen sighs, slumps back in the chair with his eyes closed and tries not to lick at Misha's thumb.
Everything's more intense in the dark, and Jensen's suddenly acutely aware of how Misha's positioned on his lap. All he can hear is his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his own breath; until there's a warm huff against his cheek and Jensen realizes exactly how close Misha's managed to get.
"Stay still," Misha whispers, and Jensen can't help but hold his breath until he feels the soft pressure on his eyelid. Jensen parts his lips, wants to say something, but Misha's thumb is back, idly stroking over Jensen's lower lip. Misha keeps talking, low and murmuring and Jensen can't make out all the words, can only feel how the dipping and rolling sound echos through to Misha's hand and the drag on Jensen's skin.
Jensen whimpers when Misha pulls away, and he can hear the fucking grin in Misha's voice. "I'm just switching sides." And then Misha's shifting to one side, inching closer to Jensen with a slow thrust. Jensen's hands fly up instinctively, grasping at Misha's thighs as if he could ground himself. But Misha's chuckling and nuzzling closer, starting up the slow drag on Jensen's other eyelid, and it's so much easier to let himself fall.
"Do you have any idea?" Misha starts, then falls silent. Jensen feels a few more strokes against his skin, soft and almost ticklish, before Misha stops. "You can open your eyes now."
"Any idea what?" Jensen parrots back, slowly blinking as the room comes back into focus. "You get what you want?" He can feel the makeup and is tempted to rub at his eyes, but can't bring himself to move his hands. Everything seems different now, harsh and bright and Jensen starts to feel stupid for having his hands on Misha like this.
"Not quite." Misha's voice is soft, and Jensen looks up to meet his eyes.
"What then?" He feels Misha start to move, attempting to push himself backwards with the balls of his feet, and Jensen tightens his grip to stop him. And suddenly Jensen feels dumb, like he just woke up after oversleeping. He reaches a hand up to cup around the back of Misha's neck. "Come here," Jensen smiles tentatively, hoping he hasn't managed to read the whole situation wrong.
Misha grins, nose wrinkling and Jensen snorts out a laugh before pulling Misha down to kiss him, sweet and slick, and Jensen softly groans when Misha nips at his lower lip.
Misha pulls back, eyes fucking twinkling at Jensen, and Jensen reaches up to run his fingers through Misha's hair. "As attractive as you are like this, do you want to move some place more comfortable?"
"Are you inviting me to your bedroom?"
Jensen chokes back a laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of the couch over there. You're that desperate to get into my pants?"
Misha just grins as he lifts himself off Jensen's lap, and heads towards the couch.
Jensen stands, walking over to lock the trailer door before heading towards Misha. "So, eyeliner. Really?"
Misha leers up at him. "What can I say, you're hot in it."
Author: Puchuupoet
Pairing: Misha/Jensen
Word Count: 844
Rating: PGish
Heads-up: Umm, adorable schmoop
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Notes: I blame this on all the pics of eyeliner-wearing Jensen being posted in ontd_spnparty tonight.
Jensen's almost gotten used to opening his trailer door and finding Misha sprawled across his couch, bare feet dangling over the armrest as he reads a book or stares at the ceiling.
Today is no different, except Misha brought his laptop and is furiously typing away when Jensen walks in. Jensen shakes his head, dumping his stuff on the tiny kitchen counter and emptying his pockets. The day's over, and he's ready to collect his things and head home for the night.
The couch creaks, and when Jensen turns around, Misha's suddenly right there behind him.
"I've been wondering about this," Misha murmurs as he reaches out and grasps Jensen's shoulder, pushing him down on to the armless chair behind him. Jensen sits with a low oomph and tilts his head so that he's staring up at Misha.
"About wha...?" Jensen starts, but his voice trails off when Misha keeps moving forward, legs spreading wider until Misha's ass is resting on Jensen's thighs. Jensen's tempted to hitch his hips up, see exactly how close Misha is, but Jensen takes a second too long, and then Misha's pressing in even closer, grin flashing white.
Misha leans to the side, reaching for something tucked away in his bag, and Jensen twists his head to watch. "Nu uh," Misha chides, cupping Jensen's face in his hand. "Not yet."
Jensen frowns, unsure of what's going on, and he shifts in his seat. "Misha?" he murmurs, keeping his eyes on the other man's profile, grinning in spite of himself when he sees Misha's tongue sticking out the side of his mouth.
"Got it." Misha grins as he pivots back around to face Jensen. "Now, close your eyes."
Jensen opens his mouth to protest, but Misha sweeps his thumb across Jensen's chin, barely brushing over the corner of his mouth. "Please?" He asks, and Jensen sighs, slumps back in the chair with his eyes closed and tries not to lick at Misha's thumb.
Everything's more intense in the dark, and Jensen's suddenly acutely aware of how Misha's positioned on his lap. All he can hear is his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his own breath; until there's a warm huff against his cheek and Jensen realizes exactly how close Misha's managed to get.
"Stay still," Misha whispers, and Jensen can't help but hold his breath until he feels the soft pressure on his eyelid. Jensen parts his lips, wants to say something, but Misha's thumb is back, idly stroking over Jensen's lower lip. Misha keeps talking, low and murmuring and Jensen can't make out all the words, can only feel how the dipping and rolling sound echos through to Misha's hand and the drag on Jensen's skin.
Jensen whimpers when Misha pulls away, and he can hear the fucking grin in Misha's voice. "I'm just switching sides." And then Misha's shifting to one side, inching closer to Jensen with a slow thrust. Jensen's hands fly up instinctively, grasping at Misha's thighs as if he could ground himself. But Misha's chuckling and nuzzling closer, starting up the slow drag on Jensen's other eyelid, and it's so much easier to let himself fall.
"Do you have any idea?" Misha starts, then falls silent. Jensen feels a few more strokes against his skin, soft and almost ticklish, before Misha stops. "You can open your eyes now."
"Any idea what?" Jensen parrots back, slowly blinking as the room comes back into focus. "You get what you want?" He can feel the makeup and is tempted to rub at his eyes, but can't bring himself to move his hands. Everything seems different now, harsh and bright and Jensen starts to feel stupid for having his hands on Misha like this.
"Not quite." Misha's voice is soft, and Jensen looks up to meet his eyes.
"What then?" He feels Misha start to move, attempting to push himself backwards with the balls of his feet, and Jensen tightens his grip to stop him. And suddenly Jensen feels dumb, like he just woke up after oversleeping. He reaches a hand up to cup around the back of Misha's neck. "Come here," Jensen smiles tentatively, hoping he hasn't managed to read the whole situation wrong.
Misha grins, nose wrinkling and Jensen snorts out a laugh before pulling Misha down to kiss him, sweet and slick, and Jensen softly groans when Misha nips at his lower lip.
Misha pulls back, eyes fucking twinkling at Jensen, and Jensen reaches up to run his fingers through Misha's hair. "As attractive as you are like this, do you want to move some place more comfortable?"
"Are you inviting me to your bedroom?"
Jensen chokes back a laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of the couch over there. You're that desperate to get into my pants?"
Misha just grins as he lifts himself off Jensen's lap, and heads towards the couch.
Jensen stands, walking over to lock the trailer door before heading towards Misha. "So, eyeliner. Really?"
Misha leers up at him. "What can I say, you're hot in it."