Someecards comment fics.
It seems I'm in a Jared/Misha mood lately, and I might write more of them when I get the chance...I'm not sure. But, for now, I have a couple comment fics from here:
I genuinely enjoy any activity in which you bend over.
The thing about Jared is that he’s nice to look at, even when he bends over. Especially when he bends over. Misha will taunt Jared all he wants, claim to hate him every step of the way, but he’s man enough to admit that Jared is just…pleasing to the eye.
Misha doesn’t work with Jared much, but when he does, he spends most of his time on set just watching Jared. He watches Jared bend over to pet his dogs, bend over to tie his shoe, bend over to pick up the water bottle he left on the floor by his chair, bend over to pick up something Misha dropped (possibly on purpose). It’s when they go out and get drunk one night that Misha knows he has a problem, because he shouldn’t still think it’s hot when Jared’s bending over to puke. Then again, he is drunk, so he has an excuse.
“Padalecki!” Misha shouts, barging into Jared’s trailer. It’s been a long day, even for Misha, and finding his car without any air in the tires is a little more than he can take. Not that he didn’t ask for it. Everyone talks about Jared, but the fact is, Misha’s just as guilty in the prank war as Jared is. “What the fuck?”
Jared just smirks, then starts laughing, and what Misha tries to turn into an argument somehow ends with him shoving Jared back into the wall and then shoving his tongue down Jared’s throat. There’s so much tension between them, and he can feel it escalating into something he can’t control.
“Hate you,” Jared mutters between kisses, biting Misha’s lip, but it’s missing the anger behind it, fueled more by a desperate heat.
“Shut up,” Misha snaps, breaking away and turning Jared around to face the wall.
The thing about Jared is that he’s easy to bend over.
I hear yoga does amazing things for people who incessantly glorify yoga.
“So, can you really do it?”
Misha’s eyes dart over to Jared while his makeup gets touched up between takes. “What?” he says, trying not to move his mouth too much.
“Can you really do it?” Jared repeats. He looks serious, which of course means that he’s about to bring something up that will send everyone within earshot into hysterics.
“Can I do what?” Misha asks, able to move more freely now that his makeup is finished.
“Suck your own dick.” Jared smirks and, as predicted, everyone around them laughs.
Misha tries his best to keep a straight face, which he always fails at, and turns towards Jared. “You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”
To Misha’s surprise, Jared just shrugs and laughs, his eyes glinting and going dark for just a second, but it’s enough for Misha to catch it. He falters and fucks up the next take because of it, wondering when the hell Jared Padalecki started looking at him like he was a piece of meat.
“What was that all about?” Misha asks Jared later, when they’re walking off set.
“Hmm?” Jared mutters, seemingly oblivious.
“The interest in my self-fellating capabilities,” he answers, and Jared laughs.
“Just curious about the wonders of yoga,” Jared says, staring straight ahead.
“Yoga’s bullshit,” Misha scoffs. “I can’t even really do it. I just told them I could so I’d get the part.”
“Looked like you could get pretty far.”
Misha stops walking, because he can hear that tone in Jared’s voice. That low tone that reminds him of the split-second dark, dirty look Jared gave him earlier. “Okay, I think I’m missing something.”
Jared turns to him then, mischievous and, Misha thinks, flirty. “What’s that?”
“Why are you so interested in my dick?” He knows it’s blunt, but Misha’s never really cared about that sort of thing. It’s better than beating around the bush.
Jared just grins, hair falling into his eyes as he walks backwards away from Misha. “You should meet me for lunch tomorrow,” he says, “In my trailer.”
Misha tells himself that it’s a terribly bad idea, but that doesn’t keep him from going.
I genuinely enjoy any activity in which you bend over.
The thing about Jared is that he’s nice to look at, even when he bends over. Especially when he bends over. Misha will taunt Jared all he wants, claim to hate him every step of the way, but he’s man enough to admit that Jared is just…pleasing to the eye.
Misha doesn’t work with Jared much, but when he does, he spends most of his time on set just watching Jared. He watches Jared bend over to pet his dogs, bend over to tie his shoe, bend over to pick up the water bottle he left on the floor by his chair, bend over to pick up something Misha dropped (possibly on purpose). It’s when they go out and get drunk one night that Misha knows he has a problem, because he shouldn’t still think it’s hot when Jared’s bending over to puke. Then again, he is drunk, so he has an excuse.
“Padalecki!” Misha shouts, barging into Jared’s trailer. It’s been a long day, even for Misha, and finding his car without any air in the tires is a little more than he can take. Not that he didn’t ask for it. Everyone talks about Jared, but the fact is, Misha’s just as guilty in the prank war as Jared is. “What the fuck?”
Jared just smirks, then starts laughing, and what Misha tries to turn into an argument somehow ends with him shoving Jared back into the wall and then shoving his tongue down Jared’s throat. There’s so much tension between them, and he can feel it escalating into something he can’t control.
“Hate you,” Jared mutters between kisses, biting Misha’s lip, but it’s missing the anger behind it, fueled more by a desperate heat.
“Shut up,” Misha snaps, breaking away and turning Jared around to face the wall.
The thing about Jared is that he’s easy to bend over.
I hear yoga does amazing things for people who incessantly glorify yoga.
“So, can you really do it?”
Misha’s eyes dart over to Jared while his makeup gets touched up between takes. “What?” he says, trying not to move his mouth too much.
“Can you really do it?” Jared repeats. He looks serious, which of course means that he’s about to bring something up that will send everyone within earshot into hysterics.
“Can I do what?” Misha asks, able to move more freely now that his makeup is finished.
“Suck your own dick.” Jared smirks and, as predicted, everyone around them laughs.
Misha tries his best to keep a straight face, which he always fails at, and turns towards Jared. “You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you?”
To Misha’s surprise, Jared just shrugs and laughs, his eyes glinting and going dark for just a second, but it’s enough for Misha to catch it. He falters and fucks up the next take because of it, wondering when the hell Jared Padalecki started looking at him like he was a piece of meat.
“What was that all about?” Misha asks Jared later, when they’re walking off set.
“Hmm?” Jared mutters, seemingly oblivious.
“The interest in my self-fellating capabilities,” he answers, and Jared laughs.
“Just curious about the wonders of yoga,” Jared says, staring straight ahead.
“Yoga’s bullshit,” Misha scoffs. “I can’t even really do it. I just told them I could so I’d get the part.”
“Looked like you could get pretty far.”
Misha stops walking, because he can hear that tone in Jared’s voice. That low tone that reminds him of the split-second dark, dirty look Jared gave him earlier. “Okay, I think I’m missing something.”
Jared turns to him then, mischievous and, Misha thinks, flirty. “What’s that?”
“Why are you so interested in my dick?” He knows it’s blunt, but Misha’s never really cared about that sort of thing. It’s better than beating around the bush.
Jared just grins, hair falling into his eyes as he walks backwards away from Misha. “You should meet me for lunch tomorrow,” he says, “In my trailer.”
Misha tells himself that it’s a terribly bad idea, but that doesn’t keep him from going.