fic: taut
Title: taut
Author: puchuupoet
Pairing: Richard/Misha
Word Count: ~1775
Rating: nc-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Summary: Misha's off to save the world again, and Richard's stuck on the sidelines. (aka, phone sex!fic :D)
Notes: Written for morganoconner, cause she says things on twitter and then I have to write about them ♥ (also, if anyone knows where I can find icons for this pairing? Let me know pls ♥)
"It won't be forever, you know. Besides, you could come with me." Misha snaps the locks on his suitcase shut before facing Richard.
"I didn't raise the money in time, remember?" Richard jokes, but it falls flat. He could make it still, slip onto the plane with them and join the crew. But he still has jobs lined up, obligations and connections he can't afford to stand up and miss out on.
"I'm just a phone call away, remember?" Misha's tone turns serious. He hooks his fingers into Richard's belt and pulls him close. "I'll call when we get there and when we take off. And every day between, I swear."
Richard nods and that's when Misha kisses him, hard and desperate. Richard nips back, hands covering Misha's back to keep him there, if only for a moment longer.
A car horn honks, interrupting their goodbyes and Misha grins then, wide and beaming and hopeful, and Richard feels like a jackass for even thinking about wanting him to stay home.
Richard follows him out to the sidewalk, and Matt waves at him from the car. Richard waves back half-heartedly as he watches Misha load his suitcase in and climb in. They high-five and Richard's tempted to grab a duffel bag and join them, but then the car's pulling away and all that's left are tail lights in the darkness.
Richard stares at his phone, gut twisting, willing it to ring. Misha had said he would call once they landed. He had promised.
Richard's done the calculations already, but he shifts in the armchair and does them again in his head. With turbulence, without it; if the TSA employees are having a good day or not. He knows Misha packed light, one small suitcase with just the essentials.
"They'll have everything else I need there," Misha had told Richard the night before, and Richard's gut had rolled at those words.
It's stupid, his reaction, and he knows it. Today hadn't been too bad, but now that he's home - alone - the silence echoes around him. The TV hasn't helped, and running lines just makes him aware that he's talking to himself.
It's still relatively early when he puts himself to bed, but Richard's run out of ways to distract himself. But the bed's soft and he's had a long day, and he falls asleep before he realizes it.
A sharp buzzing startles Richard awake, and it takes him a second to realize he's still clutching his phone.
"Hello?" He struggles to sit up, to recognize the blur of text on his screen.
"Hey! It's me. Oh man, did I wake you up? I totally woke you up, didn't I?" Misha's voice bursts from the phone and Richard has to pull it away from his head.
"You remembered," Richard yawns. "You got there okay then?"
The volume drops suddenly, and Richard checks to make sure the call hadn't been dropped.
"Dumbass, of course I did. Told you I would." Misha's tone is teasing, familiar, and the ache in Richard's chest loosens.
A week passes, and Richard's adjusted. Or rather, that's what he keeps telling himself. The days slip by with no problem, and there's even some nights where he tumbles into bed, asleep before his head hits the pillow.
But tonight isn't one of those nights, and Richard finds himself tossing around in bed. Every time he rolls over towards the center of the bed he readies himself to bump into Misha's back, and every time he doesn't he gets more restless.
The room lights up when his phone vibrates, the screen flashing blue and Richard's on it in an instance. He can't think of anyone else who would call him at 1:30 in the morning in the middle of the week, and he grins when the screen confirms his thought.
"Hey." He's suddenly breathless, eager to catch up. It's been a couple of days and Richard can feel it in his body.
"Hey you." Misha sounds amused, his voice clearer than it has been during the past couple of calls. "Did I wake you up again?"
"Not really." Richard moves the pillows around so he has something to lean against. "Can't get to sleep tonight."
"Why's that?"
Richard hesitates for a second. They've been spending almost every free moment together, but hadn't put words to any of it yet. "I miss you," he admits, picking nervously at the ties on his pajama pants.
There's a soft chuckle on the other end. "I miss you too," Misha says, and the words seem to come so easily to him. "I mean, it's amazing here, and it's really breathtaking to see what everyone's accomplishing. It's just... god, I wish you could have come with me. You would have had a blast."
That knotted feeling in his stomach's coming back, and Richard replays his schedule in his head, to see if there's some magical loophole he managed to miss every single time before. He's distracted by noise on Misha's end, a fuzzy mix of sharp knocking and shuffling around.
"Hold on a minute, someone's at the door." Misha tells him, and Richard can hear the phone being placed down on a hard surface. He doesn't mean to listen in but it's hard not to. There's voices, more shuffling and then he swears he hears the door shut and lock, but it's too faint to tell.
"Back, hey."
"Hey. You need to get going?"
"Well, actually," and there's a cautiousness in the way Misha drags out the words. Richard can't remember the last time he heard him like that. "I made a deal with Matt. He's covering the morning shift for me, so I don't have to go in for another hour or two."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no. Not even close. Just, you're in bed, right?" The question catches Richard by surprise.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just, go with this, okay?"
"Okay." Richard wriggles back into the pillows, unsure as to what's going to come next.
"You've been missing me, right? A lot?" Misha's voice is suddenly deeper, and the change causes Richard to shiver underneath the blankets.
"God, yes," he whispers, his free hand moving to rest on his stomach.
"I've got the room to myself here." Misha keeps talking. "Means I can stay up late or walk around naked, anything I want."
Richard's throat goes dry. "You're walking around naked then?"
"I'm spread out on the bed naked." There's an obvious smirk in Misha's voice.
"You fucking tease..."
"Are you touching yourself yet?"
The question catches Richard off guard. "Should I be?"
"That's generally how phone sex works."
"And now I know for next time." Richard's tempted to stick his tongue out at the phone. He slides his hand lower on his belly instead, fingers just dipping underneath the waistband of his pajama pants.
"What're you doing?"
"Thucking on my fingerth."
Richard snorts out a laugh before he can stop himself, and it feels good to be able to laugh like this. He moves his hand further down, threading through coarse curls before he wraps his hand around his dick.
"It's for a good cause." Misha adds.
"What's that?" Richard tightens his grip but not moving his hand yet; closing his eyes and picturing Misha bare before him.
"'m not dumb enough to stretch myself dry, for starters. Plus, I can always imagine I'm sucking your cock."
"Jesus," Richard whispers, his hips starting to roll up. It's suddenly too warm under the covers and he kicks them off, shoving them down to the foot of the bed. He wedges his phone against his shoulder and quickly pushes his pjs down as far as he can reach. "Are you... now?"
Misha laughs and god, Richard wishes the distance wasn't a factor, that he could feel Misha's laugh against his skin. "Since when did you become shy? And yeah, I am." His voice drops even lower, curling around the words and Richard shivers at the image.
"You're jerking off now, aren't you?" Misha's voice cuts through his thoughts, and yeah, Richard is, thumbing over the head of his cock, smearing precome down the shaft. He shoves further down the bed until he's not leaning against the headboard anymore. He pulls one leg up, toes curling in the mattress as he braces himself.
"Yeah," he's breathless again, torn between dragging this conversation out or letting himself give in to Misha's voice. He readjusts his hold on his phone and tries to make sense of the noises coming from the other end. "Are you?"
Misha's voice was made for this, Richard's quickly realizing. "Three fingers inside of me, wishing it was you." There's a soft grunt and then Misha's whimpering into the phone. "You're fucking me hard and desperate, like how I know you will the moment I walk in the front door."
Richard groans at the image, at how Misha must look right now, spread out on the bed like that. "I want you to touch yourself," he tells him, his voice rough from sleep and want. "I want to hear you come, Misha, please."
There's no response from Misha, just a frantic whimpering. It fades off a little, being replaced by the sound of Misha jerking off. Richard's belly curls with the thought that Misha's following his order, that he's as strung out with want as Richard is right now.
Richard's hand is a blur on his cock, his fingers stretching out to tease his sac on the down stroke. He moans into the phone, any shyness long lost as his orgasm nears.
"Richard." There's a soft groan from Misha, the complete opposite of his dirty talk from earlier but that's what pushes Richard over the edge. His hips jerk up as he comes, and he bites at his lower lip to keep from making too much noise. He can hear Misha though, stuttering gasps and groans, and Richard does his best to picture Misha and how he arches off the bed when he comes.
There's a lull then, both men trying to catch their breaths. Richard buries his face in the pillow, exhausted and wrung-out.
"You doing okay?" Misha's voice breaks through the silence.
"Mmmhmm." Richard murmurs. "That was awesome."
Misha laughs. "I hate to run out on you, but I gotta shower and take off."
"I understand." Richard pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words but Misha cuts him off before he can say anything.
"I miss you too. You're not going to know what hit you when I get back, okay? Just to warn you."
Warmth flares up in Richard's belly. "Deal. Now go be amazing."
Author: puchuupoet
Pairing: Richard/Misha
Word Count: ~1775
Rating: nc-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, completely fictional.
Summary: Misha's off to save the world again, and Richard's stuck on the sidelines. (aka, phone sex!fic :D)
Notes: Written for morganoconner, cause she says things on twitter and then I have to write about them ♥ (also, if anyone knows where I can find icons for this pairing? Let me know pls ♥)
"It won't be forever, you know. Besides, you could come with me." Misha snaps the locks on his suitcase shut before facing Richard.
"I didn't raise the money in time, remember?" Richard jokes, but it falls flat. He could make it still, slip onto the plane with them and join the crew. But he still has jobs lined up, obligations and connections he can't afford to stand up and miss out on.
"I'm just a phone call away, remember?" Misha's tone turns serious. He hooks his fingers into Richard's belt and pulls him close. "I'll call when we get there and when we take off. And every day between, I swear."
Richard nods and that's when Misha kisses him, hard and desperate. Richard nips back, hands covering Misha's back to keep him there, if only for a moment longer.
A car horn honks, interrupting their goodbyes and Misha grins then, wide and beaming and hopeful, and Richard feels like a jackass for even thinking about wanting him to stay home.
Richard follows him out to the sidewalk, and Matt waves at him from the car. Richard waves back half-heartedly as he watches Misha load his suitcase in and climb in. They high-five and Richard's tempted to grab a duffel bag and join them, but then the car's pulling away and all that's left are tail lights in the darkness.
Richard stares at his phone, gut twisting, willing it to ring. Misha had said he would call once they landed. He had promised.
Richard's done the calculations already, but he shifts in the armchair and does them again in his head. With turbulence, without it; if the TSA employees are having a good day or not. He knows Misha packed light, one small suitcase with just the essentials.
"They'll have everything else I need there," Misha had told Richard the night before, and Richard's gut had rolled at those words.
It's stupid, his reaction, and he knows it. Today hadn't been too bad, but now that he's home - alone - the silence echoes around him. The TV hasn't helped, and running lines just makes him aware that he's talking to himself.
It's still relatively early when he puts himself to bed, but Richard's run out of ways to distract himself. But the bed's soft and he's had a long day, and he falls asleep before he realizes it.
A sharp buzzing startles Richard awake, and it takes him a second to realize he's still clutching his phone.
"Hello?" He struggles to sit up, to recognize the blur of text on his screen.
"Hey! It's me. Oh man, did I wake you up? I totally woke you up, didn't I?" Misha's voice bursts from the phone and Richard has to pull it away from his head.
"You remembered," Richard yawns. "You got there okay then?"
The volume drops suddenly, and Richard checks to make sure the call hadn't been dropped.
"Dumbass, of course I did. Told you I would." Misha's tone is teasing, familiar, and the ache in Richard's chest loosens.
A week passes, and Richard's adjusted. Or rather, that's what he keeps telling himself. The days slip by with no problem, and there's even some nights where he tumbles into bed, asleep before his head hits the pillow.
But tonight isn't one of those nights, and Richard finds himself tossing around in bed. Every time he rolls over towards the center of the bed he readies himself to bump into Misha's back, and every time he doesn't he gets more restless.
The room lights up when his phone vibrates, the screen flashing blue and Richard's on it in an instance. He can't think of anyone else who would call him at 1:30 in the morning in the middle of the week, and he grins when the screen confirms his thought.
"Hey." He's suddenly breathless, eager to catch up. It's been a couple of days and Richard can feel it in his body.
"Hey you." Misha sounds amused, his voice clearer than it has been during the past couple of calls. "Did I wake you up again?"
"Not really." Richard moves the pillows around so he has something to lean against. "Can't get to sleep tonight."
"Why's that?"
Richard hesitates for a second. They've been spending almost every free moment together, but hadn't put words to any of it yet. "I miss you," he admits, picking nervously at the ties on his pajama pants.
There's a soft chuckle on the other end. "I miss you too," Misha says, and the words seem to come so easily to him. "I mean, it's amazing here, and it's really breathtaking to see what everyone's accomplishing. It's just... god, I wish you could have come with me. You would have had a blast."
That knotted feeling in his stomach's coming back, and Richard replays his schedule in his head, to see if there's some magical loophole he managed to miss every single time before. He's distracted by noise on Misha's end, a fuzzy mix of sharp knocking and shuffling around.
"Hold on a minute, someone's at the door." Misha tells him, and Richard can hear the phone being placed down on a hard surface. He doesn't mean to listen in but it's hard not to. There's voices, more shuffling and then he swears he hears the door shut and lock, but it's too faint to tell.
"Back, hey."
"Hey. You need to get going?"
"Well, actually," and there's a cautiousness in the way Misha drags out the words. Richard can't remember the last time he heard him like that. "I made a deal with Matt. He's covering the morning shift for me, so I don't have to go in for another hour or two."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no. Not even close. Just, you're in bed, right?" The question catches Richard by surprise.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just, go with this, okay?"
"Okay." Richard wriggles back into the pillows, unsure as to what's going to come next.
"You've been missing me, right? A lot?" Misha's voice is suddenly deeper, and the change causes Richard to shiver underneath the blankets.
"God, yes," he whispers, his free hand moving to rest on his stomach.
"I've got the room to myself here." Misha keeps talking. "Means I can stay up late or walk around naked, anything I want."
Richard's throat goes dry. "You're walking around naked then?"
"I'm spread out on the bed naked." There's an obvious smirk in Misha's voice.
"You fucking tease..."
"Are you touching yourself yet?"
The question catches Richard off guard. "Should I be?"
"That's generally how phone sex works."
"And now I know for next time." Richard's tempted to stick his tongue out at the phone. He slides his hand lower on his belly instead, fingers just dipping underneath the waistband of his pajama pants.
"What're you doing?"
"Thucking on my fingerth."
Richard snorts out a laugh before he can stop himself, and it feels good to be able to laugh like this. He moves his hand further down, threading through coarse curls before he wraps his hand around his dick.
"It's for a good cause." Misha adds.
"What's that?" Richard tightens his grip but not moving his hand yet; closing his eyes and picturing Misha bare before him.
"'m not dumb enough to stretch myself dry, for starters. Plus, I can always imagine I'm sucking your cock."
"Jesus," Richard whispers, his hips starting to roll up. It's suddenly too warm under the covers and he kicks them off, shoving them down to the foot of the bed. He wedges his phone against his shoulder and quickly pushes his pjs down as far as he can reach. "Are you... now?"
Misha laughs and god, Richard wishes the distance wasn't a factor, that he could feel Misha's laugh against his skin. "Since when did you become shy? And yeah, I am." His voice drops even lower, curling around the words and Richard shivers at the image.
"You're jerking off now, aren't you?" Misha's voice cuts through his thoughts, and yeah, Richard is, thumbing over the head of his cock, smearing precome down the shaft. He shoves further down the bed until he's not leaning against the headboard anymore. He pulls one leg up, toes curling in the mattress as he braces himself.
"Yeah," he's breathless again, torn between dragging this conversation out or letting himself give in to Misha's voice. He readjusts his hold on his phone and tries to make sense of the noises coming from the other end. "Are you?"
Misha's voice was made for this, Richard's quickly realizing. "Three fingers inside of me, wishing it was you." There's a soft grunt and then Misha's whimpering into the phone. "You're fucking me hard and desperate, like how I know you will the moment I walk in the front door."
Richard groans at the image, at how Misha must look right now, spread out on the bed like that. "I want you to touch yourself," he tells him, his voice rough from sleep and want. "I want to hear you come, Misha, please."
There's no response from Misha, just a frantic whimpering. It fades off a little, being replaced by the sound of Misha jerking off. Richard's belly curls with the thought that Misha's following his order, that he's as strung out with want as Richard is right now.
Richard's hand is a blur on his cock, his fingers stretching out to tease his sac on the down stroke. He moans into the phone, any shyness long lost as his orgasm nears.
"Richard." There's a soft groan from Misha, the complete opposite of his dirty talk from earlier but that's what pushes Richard over the edge. His hips jerk up as he comes, and he bites at his lower lip to keep from making too much noise. He can hear Misha though, stuttering gasps and groans, and Richard does his best to picture Misha and how he arches off the bed when he comes.
There's a lull then, both men trying to catch their breaths. Richard buries his face in the pillow, exhausted and wrung-out.
"You doing okay?" Misha's voice breaks through the silence.
"Mmmhmm." Richard murmurs. "That was awesome."
Misha laughs. "I hate to run out on you, but I gotta shower and take off."
"I understand." Richard pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words but Misha cuts him off before he can say anything.
"I miss you too. You're not going to know what hit you when I get back, okay? Just to warn you."
Warmth flares up in Richard's belly. "Deal. Now go be amazing."