FILLED: Pictures of Youangelic_x_demonJune 4 2010, 00:21:03 UTC
He didn't really notice the first time he saw them.
Or the second.
Or the third.
It's the fourth time that he sees them that they stick in his mind and he can't get rid of them.
Then he starts seeing those things everywhere.
Now, every time he sees his co-star, all he can think about is either (depending on the occasion,) messy dark hair, sunkissed skin, an impish smile and red bite marks peppering his neck. The white liquid on his skin is decidedly not yogurt in his mind, and really it's just so distracting.
Sometimes, when Misha accomplishes a particularly dirty prank, he'll smile that filthy grin and Jensen will see tousled hair, unshaven scruff, and a smirking glint in his pretty--What? Where did that even come from?--blue eyes, and just generally be a Hugh Laurie look-a-like.
Jensen's never been a closet House fan.
"What the fuck, Misha?" He whines because said co-star is smiling his Hugh Laurie grin and that doesn't bode well for either Jared or himself.
"Hmm?" Misha cocks an eyebrow, long fingers placed on his hips.
"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't." Misha's eyes widen into a comically innocent look.
"How you wound me! What can a little thing like me do against big manly men like you and Jared?" His hands are spread in the classic white flag look, full lips slightly parted.
"Don't bullshit with me, Mish." And there's that other face. The one that screams cat got the cream, and the picture flashes through his mind, the one he dubbed 'Yogurt.'
...He's never been particularly creative, okay!
His costar must have seen something in his face because the smile faltered and one of those long fingered hands reached out.
"Jen?"
"Why did you post them? Hell, why'd you even take them?" Misha's face remains inscrutable and his eyes glimmer in confusion. He shakes his head.
"I don't..."
"You know which ones I'm talking about. The ones all over the internet. The ones that don't fucking leave me alone." Misha's face clears but it's still blank, unreadable.
"My wife took 'em. I just posted them. Flattering, no?" Misha does that shit-eating grin that could be either picture so he gets a mixture, scruff, wide blue eyes, impish grin with pouted lips not exactly holding a clothespin. Jensen shivers, shifting uncomfortably.
"They're everywhere," he hisses, and his wild-haired friend blinks, and in less than a second, he's crowding him, pressing him against the wall of the secluded hallway.
"Or maybe," his voice is low, nearly Castiel-gruff, "you just can't get them out of your mind."
Jensen's fingers flex, and he tilts his head, trying to get further away from the man crowding him, but all that succeeds in doing is baring his neck to Misha, and Misha's cunning reputation is owned for a reason.
"W-what are you doing?" Jensen gasps, the cool touch of rough scruff against his skin causing a shiver to travel through his spine down to his groin.
"Isn't this what you want, Jen? Scruff on your skin, to be the cause of those bite marks, to mark my face with you instead of yogurt, to have your cock in my mouth instead of that clothespin?" His teeth graze the soft skin on the underside of Jensen's ear and he shudders, hands fisting and unfisting.
"Unless," Misha pulls back and tilts his head very Castiel-like move, eyes glinting mischievously. "Unless I'm mistaken. Because in that case..."
Jensen's hand shoots out of nowhere, gripping that delicate, fine-boned wrist and pulling his costar's lean body to his.
"Don't even think about it, Misha," he growls lowly, hands slipping back to grip Misha's backside. He's rewarded with a hitch in the man's breath and a small whimper.
"Then what are you waiting for?" He says, breathless.
"But w-what about your wife?" Jensen's eyes are huge, green almost obliterated by black.
Misha scoffs, "My wife? My wife wants to watch." And at that Jensen groans, and then their lips connect and for once in his life, Misha's aloof mask is gone, thrown to the wind.
~*~
Hours later, Misha rolls over, an adorably sleepy post-coital Jensen at his side, and pulls out his phone, flipping to the Twitter app.
Evil Plan: Success.
First RPS. I...don't even know where this came from. It's...Yeah, I don't know.
Re: FILLED: Pictures of Youjanie_tangerineJune 4 2010, 12:05:01 UTC
YOU WIN FOR MENTIONING MISHA'S WIFE WATCHING.
Now you made me want to ask for it but it'd feel kinda weird. Oops.
That said, this was utterly delicious. Ah, Jensen, we so get you and your fascination with the not-yogurt. And the talking was hot, duh. Also, the ending = win. Evil plan indeed. ;) I really liked this!! :D
Re: FILLED: Pictures of Youclick_pandaJune 4 2010, 14:42:07 UTC
That ending was hilarious! <3 You win at life! And of course whenever someone mentions yogurt all I can ever see is that Misha picture. Same with the mention of laundry! >w< I totally understand Jensen being obssessed with them.
Or the second.
Or the third.
It's the fourth time that he sees them that they stick in his mind and he can't get rid of them.
Then he starts seeing those things everywhere.
Now, every time he sees his co-star, all he can think about is either (depending on the occasion,) messy dark hair, sunkissed skin, an impish smile and red bite marks peppering his neck. The white liquid on his skin is decidedly not yogurt in his mind, and really it's just so distracting.
Sometimes, when Misha accomplishes a particularly dirty prank, he'll smile that filthy grin and Jensen will see tousled hair, unshaven scruff, and a smirking glint in his pretty--What? Where did that even come from?--blue eyes, and just generally be a Hugh Laurie look-a-like.
Jensen's never been a closet House fan.
"What the fuck, Misha?" He whines because said co-star is smiling his Hugh Laurie grin and that doesn't bode well for either Jared or himself.
"Hmm?" Misha cocks an eyebrow, long fingers placed on his hips.
"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't." Misha's eyes widen into a comically innocent look.
"How you wound me! What can a little thing like me do against big manly men like you and Jared?" His hands are spread in the classic white flag look, full lips slightly parted.
"Don't bullshit with me, Mish." And there's that other face. The one that screams cat got the cream, and the picture flashes through his mind, the one he dubbed 'Yogurt.'
...He's never been particularly creative, okay!
His costar must have seen something in his face because the smile faltered and one of those long fingered hands reached out.
"Jen?"
"Why did you post them? Hell, why'd you even take them?" Misha's face remains inscrutable and his eyes glimmer in confusion. He shakes his head.
"I don't..."
"You know which ones I'm talking about. The ones all over the internet. The ones that don't fucking leave me alone." Misha's face clears but it's still blank, unreadable.
"My wife took 'em. I just posted them. Flattering, no?" Misha does that shit-eating grin that could be either picture so he gets a mixture, scruff, wide blue eyes, impish grin with pouted lips not exactly holding a clothespin. Jensen shivers, shifting uncomfortably.
"They're everywhere," he hisses, and his wild-haired friend blinks, and in less than a second, he's crowding him, pressing him against the wall of the secluded hallway.
"Or maybe," his voice is low, nearly Castiel-gruff, "you just can't get them out of your mind."
Jensen's fingers flex, and he tilts his head, trying to get further away from the man crowding him, but all that succeeds in doing is baring his neck to Misha, and Misha's cunning reputation is owned for a reason.
"W-what are you doing?" Jensen gasps, the cool touch of rough scruff against his skin causing a shiver to travel through his spine down to his groin.
"Isn't this what you want, Jen? Scruff on your skin, to be the cause of those bite marks, to mark my face with you instead of yogurt, to have your cock in my mouth instead of that clothespin?" His teeth graze the soft skin on the underside of Jensen's ear and he shudders, hands fisting and unfisting.
"Unless," Misha pulls back and tilts his head very Castiel-like move, eyes glinting mischievously. "Unless I'm mistaken. Because in that case..."
Jensen's hand shoots out of nowhere, gripping that delicate, fine-boned wrist and pulling his costar's lean body to his.
"Don't even think about it, Misha," he growls lowly, hands slipping back to grip Misha's backside. He's rewarded with a hitch in the man's breath and a small whimper.
"Then what are you waiting for?" He says, breathless.
"But w-what about your wife?" Jensen's eyes are huge, green almost obliterated by black.
Misha scoffs, "My wife? My wife wants to watch." And at that Jensen groans, and then their lips connect and for once in his life, Misha's aloof mask is gone, thrown to the wind.
~*~
Hours later, Misha rolls over, an adorably sleepy post-coital Jensen at his side, and pulls out his phone, flipping to the Twitter app.
Evil Plan: Success.
First RPS. I...don't even know where this came from. It's...Yeah, I don't know.
Reply
Omg, thank you so much! That was so gorgeous<333
P.S all of Mishas wives wanna watch. >DD
Reply
I WANNA WATCH!
Reply
Now you made me want to ask for it but it'd feel kinda weird. Oops.
That said, this was utterly delicious. Ah, Jensen, we so get you and your fascination with the not-yogurt. And the talking was hot, duh. Also, the ending = win. Evil plan indeed. ;) I really liked this!! :D
Reply
MISHA ALWAYS HAS EVIL PLANS. It's just the way he is ;)
Reply
Reply
Oh, yes. Laundry as well. Again, I don't really mind :D
Reply
Leave a comment