Duct Tape is the Glue that Brings Us Togetherangelic_x_demonJune 5 2010, 19:15:25 UTC
Jensen took a long sip of water, wiping his mouth and turning to Jared, who was eating a bag of Gummy Worms, surprise, surprise.
"What's going on over there?" Jensen asked, thumb jerking over to a crowd of people.
A high-pitched whimper made its way over to the two men, and Jensen's brow furrowed.
"Is that...?"
"Misha?" Jared finished, eyes narrowing. They looked at each other and walked hurriedly to the people.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Jared's big body pushed its way through the throng, separating everyone to reveal a wide-eyed Misha Collins, mouth still taped up.
"Shit, why hasn't anyone taken this off of him?"
"We've been trying--it won't come off!" Richard retorted, mouth set in a thin line.
Jensen observed his co-star, eyes roaming from his too-wide blue eyes to his slightly damp shirt, all signs of claustrophobia.
"Jared, get everyone away. I can handle this," he said quietly, and Jared glanced at Misha and nodded, shepherding everyone away.
As soon as everyone was gone, Jensen nealt down to Misha's eye level, cataloging the way his throat clenched and his hands reached out to grab onto him, lithe fingers curling around his arm.
"Calm down, Mish," he murmured, using a hand to pull at his co-star's hair, baring his neck. It was heady, the feeling of Misha being this submissive because everyone knew Misha not being in control was a rare occasion.
"This'll hurt a bit," he muttered, because some bastard had actually put real duct tape instead of the easy-removal one they'd decided on.
Misha whimpered again, hands tightening their hold on Jensen's arm, but nodded, swallowing. His fingers grabbed hold onto a loose piece of the tape and in one quick motion, he ripped it off, ignoring the death-hold on his arm, at the movement.
Rolling the tape into a ball, he faced Misha, whose breathing was rapid and eyes huge and dilated.
"Thank you, thank you," he breathed, voice ragged and hoarse, and Jensen turned to face him, eyes immediately going to his mouth, red and abused. Without really thinking about it, he traced those swollen lips, biting his own at Misha's wince.
"Sorry," he said quietly, eyes fluttering away from his face, but Misha's fingers gripped at his wrist, forcing Jensen to look at him.
"Don't be." His aquamarine eyes were shining, but those lips, those lips, so pretty in their pain, were so distracting, and Jensen couldn't look away.
If he could have pulled his eyes away from the man's mouth for one second, he would have noticed the mischievous gleam in his friend's eyes, but instead all he saw was a pink tongue darting out of that mouth and wetting those lips slowly, leaving them shiny and red.
The strangled moan that stuck low in his throat caused his face to flush a rose petal pink, and Misha chuckled darkly, the sound tingling up Jensen's spine.
"Misha," he breathed, voice wrecked, and that was it, the two men colliding into each other, lips to lips, hips to hips, rolling together on the ground, breathing harsh and panting.
~*~
An hour later, when Jared came to see if Jensen needed help, he found the two sitting together on the ground, beer bottles lazily hanging from the tips of their fingers.
And if he noticed how Jensen's lips were just as swollen and red as Misha's, he didn't say a word.
"What's going on over there?" Jensen asked, thumb jerking over to a crowd of people.
A high-pitched whimper made its way over to the two men, and Jensen's brow furrowed.
"Is that...?"
"Misha?" Jared finished, eyes narrowing. They looked at each other and walked hurriedly to the people.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Jared's big body pushed its way through the throng, separating everyone to reveal a wide-eyed Misha Collins, mouth still taped up.
"Shit, why hasn't anyone taken this off of him?"
"We've been trying--it won't come off!" Richard retorted, mouth set in a thin line.
Jensen observed his co-star, eyes roaming from his too-wide blue eyes to his slightly damp shirt, all signs of claustrophobia.
"Jared, get everyone away. I can handle this," he said quietly, and Jared glanced at Misha and nodded, shepherding everyone away.
As soon as everyone was gone, Jensen nealt down to Misha's eye level, cataloging the way his throat clenched and his hands reached out to grab onto him, lithe fingers curling around his arm.
"Calm down, Mish," he murmured, using a hand to pull at his co-star's hair, baring his neck. It was heady, the feeling of Misha being this submissive because everyone knew Misha not being in control was a rare occasion.
"This'll hurt a bit," he muttered, because some bastard had actually put real duct tape instead of the easy-removal one they'd decided on.
Misha whimpered again, hands tightening their hold on Jensen's arm, but nodded, swallowing. His fingers grabbed hold onto a loose piece of the tape and in one quick motion, he ripped it off, ignoring the death-hold on his arm, at the movement.
Rolling the tape into a ball, he faced Misha, whose breathing was rapid and eyes huge and dilated.
"Thank you, thank you," he breathed, voice ragged and hoarse, and Jensen turned to face him, eyes immediately going to his mouth, red and abused. Without really thinking about it, he traced those swollen lips, biting his own at Misha's wince.
"Sorry," he said quietly, eyes fluttering away from his face, but Misha's fingers gripped at his wrist, forcing Jensen to look at him.
"Don't be." His aquamarine eyes were shining, but those lips, those lips, so pretty in their pain, were so distracting, and Jensen couldn't look away.
If he could have pulled his eyes away from the man's mouth for one second, he would have noticed the mischievous gleam in his friend's eyes, but instead all he saw was a pink tongue darting out of that mouth and wetting those lips slowly, leaving them shiny and red.
The strangled moan that stuck low in his throat caused his face to flush a rose petal pink, and Misha chuckled darkly, the sound tingling up Jensen's spine.
"Misha," he breathed, voice wrecked, and that was it, the two men colliding into each other, lips to lips, hips to hips, rolling together on the ground, breathing harsh and panting.
~*~
An hour later, when Jared came to see if Jensen needed help, he found the two sitting together on the ground, beer bottles lazily hanging from the tips of their fingers.
And if he noticed how Jensen's lips were just as swollen and red as Misha's, he didn't say a word.
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Your icon is so...absorbing...I just can't look away...
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ugh. I have a huge love for that duct-tape
and this is perfect. thank you for writing this!
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