<< Chapter 5
When Jensen wakes up the next morning, he's sprawled out on his belly like a starfish, with one arm flat across Misha's chest and the other man's arm under his chin. The sun hasn't risen just yet, but the red sky is dipping his bedroom in a warm, cozy light. Misha looks peaceful and relaxed, and Jensen takes a minute to appreciate the view, lets his eyes take in the sight of his... whatever Misha is right now. Lifetime partner sounds too serious, boyfriend too much like high school crush, better half like they've been dating for years and...
Partner in crime. Yeah, that probably cuts it. Jensen grins, still quite sleepily.
Propping himself up on one elbow, Jensen leans over Misha, whose plush pink lips are slightly parted, huffing out short puffs of air.
Jensen tilts his head down to brush his lips softly over Misha's, to place little cat licks on his full bottom lip and to run his knuckles gently over Misha's cheek. After a few moments, Misha blinks dazedly into the light and up into Jensen's grinning face.
“Good morning, Mish,” Jensen greets him in a sleep-hoarse voice.
“Mornin',” Misha mumbles and leans upwards to kiss Jensen shortly.
They sink down into the sheets together, kissing lazily and using the fact that they've got all the time they need to fully wake up, right until Misha playfully bites and nibbles at Jensen's bottom lip. Which, in turn, makes him groan lightly.
Jensen chuckles when they pull apart and is met with Misha's electric blue eyes, sparkling with mischief and something deeper and darker. “Are you a morning person?”
A smirk curls up the edges of Misha's lips. “I think that's something you should find out for yourself,” he says quietly with a wink. Then he grabs the wrist of Jensen's hand that's still rested idly on his chest, and drags it down to his crotch. Instinctively, Jensen closes his palm and finds Misha's cock, hard and swollen, curving up towards his belly and straining against the fabric of his boxers.
“Oh,” Jensen recites the wittiest rejoinder ever known to man. He stares for a moment or two, absent-mindedly massaging the bulge under his hand, and feels a jolt of arousal flash through him when Misha moans blissfully.
The mood between them has shifted so rapidly that Jensen reflexively holds his breath in anticipation. Without further ado, he shifts his position quickly, covering Misha's body completely with his own, left leg pressed into Misha's crotch, rubbing it gently up against his erection. Misha rolls his hips slowly against Jensen's in response, slows his movement down just for a split second when he reaches the point of the most friction.
Jensen sighs. “Could we... you know, not go slow there for a minute?” he manages to growl, needing and frustrated and god, he needs to come right the fuck now. And he refuses to take care of that in the bathroom by himself.
He wants Misha, right here, right now.
Luckily, Misha's answer is a low, rumbling laughter, before he rests his full weight on hands and feet, driving them into the mattress to gain leverage, and flips them over so he sits right atop Jensen, riding him. “Hell, yes,” he groans, the relief in his voice obvious.
There is no word on Earth for how much Jensen loves that position.
Especially when Misha pushes down, drags his crotch over Jensen's to make him groan again. Urgently, Jensen grabs Misha's face in his hands, pulls him down and into a searingly hot kiss while he thrusts his hips upwards to meet Misha's.
It's dry humping, and they're moaning like teenagers during their first time, but Jensen so does not care. Because it feels amazing.
Hands are roaming over the respective other one's body, exploring firm muscles under tanned skin and little dips of skin in between, and Jensen learns that Misha is ticklish. Especially when it comes to that spot at his back, not really at the level of his waist, maybe a few inches above. Jensen also learns that Misha gets incredibly turned on by a hand placed on his lower back and shoving him down onto someone's cock. Jensen's, in this case. And oh god, Misha pleading and writhing on top of him is something else.
Jensen wraps both arms around Misha's waist, holds him firmly in place and dry-fucks him for all he's worth, making them both pant and gasp into each other's mouths as their tongues meet in a desperate encounter. The arousal curling his stomach and sending waves of pleasure through him leaves Jensen not only breathless, but also fearing that this could really be over too soon.
He wants to reach down, massage Misha's dick again, but the latter captures his hand swiftly, entwines his fingers with Jensen's and presses their hands down onto the pillow. It's a sweet gesture, and Jensen can't help but wallow in the surge of desire that seeps through him at the possessive, demanding move.
Misha knows what he wants in bed. Jensen really loves guys who fit that bill.
When their lips lock for the next time, Jensen uses his other hand to cradle the back of Misha's head with it, kisses him senseless until Misha lets go of his hand.
But then, finally, it's on.
With a quick move, Jensen's hands slip under the waistband of Misha's boxers, run over his firm, trained ass once before pushing the piece of clothing down to the other man's thighs. On the way up, Jensen takes hold of the t-shirt and shoves it up to Misha's shoulders, fingers tracing around and over Misha's sensitive nipples on the way. Misha shudders pleasantly, and Jensen just grins.
“Off with it,” Jensen orders, his voice low and rough, and he can almost see Misha shudder visibly as he speaks. Seems like he likes that sound.
Misha is off the bed and naked within seconds. And looking him over from where he's laying, Jensen can only approve. Misha might not be built, but he's muscular in all the right places and his skin is that perfect light brown that comes with a natural tan, not too much. His cock, though, makes Jensen's mouth water.
Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Jensen shifts to the edge of the bed where Misha's standing, bends over and swallows his dick down in one swift motion. He is rewarded with an appreciative groan from Misha, who seems to be a bit surprised by Jensen's quick decision. The head of Misha's cock rests on his tongue, and Jensen circles the sensitive gland with it until Misha moans again.
Jensen knows exactly what he must look like from Misha's point of view, has heard enough times how beautiful his cocksucking lips are, but he also really doesn't mind in this moment. Hey, he's all for giving Misha the greatest view possible. When he lets the other man's cock slide slowly out of his mouth, sucking him through it, and mouths the head with his lips, occasionally flicking his tongue out to lick caressing stripes over the tip, Jensen looks up at Misha. His eyes are hooded, at half-mast, lips parted as he pants for air, and he looks so deliciously disheveled that Jensen doesn't think twice. He dives back down again, bobs his head up and down and lets his tongue work its magic whenever he can. Misha is very responsive to everything Jensen does - no touch goes unnoticed, not even the one of his hand on Misha's hip that slides down to his ass. Grabbing it firmly and shoving Misha further down his throat, Jensen moans around the dick in his mouth.
“Jen,” Misha moans, “Jen, look at me.”
Pulling off, Jensen tips his head back to look at Misha. “Yeah?” he questions, a bit confused. “Is it... okay? Something I should-”
Misha shakes his head vehemently. Then holds on for a moment, and eventually nods. “Could you go a little slower? And can I-” he lifts his right hand, indicates lying in on Jensen's head with a quirked eyebrow.
Jensen gets it immediately, though. “Sure.”
Misha's hand is in his hair, entangled in the light brown strands, and holds him loosely. Jensen quickly takes his cock into his mouth again after grazing his lips playfully against the head. When his lips meet the base, the grip of Misha's hand tightens, keeps him there for a few seconds as he fucks into his mouth, small, shallow thrusts that are enough to keep Misha moaning obscenely and Jensen whimpering with need beneath him.
With a frustrated groan, Misha suddenly pulls his cock free and leans heavily down onto Jensen's shoulders.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just- need a second,” Misha pants, then swallows and grins. “Oh god, I'm really rusty.”
Jensen chuckles, mouth rested against Misha's hipbone now as he reaches around and cups the other man's ass in both hands, squeezing tight. He nuzzles his nose into Misha's groin, the fine rasps of trimmed pubic hair against his cheek as he slowly laps his tongue at the base of Misha's cock. Misha groans again at the view he enjoys without doubt, and Jensen responds by running his tongue all the way along the underside of his cock until he reaches the head again. Sucking it into his mouth, Jensen sighs. Yeah, he could definitely get used to that.
Right then, Misha pushes him away - again - by his shoulders, and before Jensen can so much as protest, Misha has pulled his t-shirt off, thrown him onto the bed sheets and pulls down his boxers. With a hungry, appreciative gaze, he falls to his knees between Jensen's spread legs and leans forward to return the favor.
And oh, this is hotter than any of the many masturbation fantasies Jensen had had during the past days. Misha's lips are already swollen from the biting and kissing, but wrapped around his cock, they look even more perfect. And don't get him started on how it feels - tight, wet heat of Misha's mouth around him, sucking him down, long tongue curling around the head - it's obscene what the guy is able to do with it. Jensen's head falls back onto the bundle of bed sheets as a needy growl falls from his lips.
“Jeez, do you have any idea how much I want to fuck you right now?” Jensen moans out.
Misha lifts his head, and Jensen almost regrets having said anything at the loss of contact. “Somebody not impressed by my cocksucking skills?” he smirks teasingly as he looks up.
Jensen almost comes right then and there, just because Misha is lying between his legs with his mouth on his cock, currently running his lips up the length of it, nibbling and licking along the way. And those blue eyes, of course, looking up at him big and innocent. Jensen huffs out a short laugh. “God, no-”
He is interrupted by Misha going down on him in earnest that very second, sliding his mouth up and down his cock, full lips reddened and stretched around the girth of it. A loud moan escapes Jensen's throat, almost embarrassing how needy it is, but Misha uses his hand to stroke Jensen's dick where his mouth doesn't reach.
It takes every ounce of willpower Jensen has to stop Misha. “Sorry, but seems like I'm 'rusty', too,” he chuckles when he pulls Misha to his feet and down on the bed beside him. A grin spreads on Misha's lips in response, while Jensen trails his hand over his chest and stomach until he reaches down and wraps his fingers around the base of Misha's cock. Jensen latches his mouth onto Misha's neck, sucking there lightly, not wanting to leave a bruise - they are not teenagers anymore, despite the fact that they sometimes act like some - licks in between, and elicits a pleasant groan from Misha when he kisses the sensitive spot over his pulse point. His own erection presses against Misha's hip, and Jensen gently rubs it over the skin there, shallow, delicious thrusts that just manage to make him more aware of how hard he is right now.
Jensen lifts his hand from where it had gently caressed Misha's cock and balls beneath, tips the index and middle finger at the other man's plush bottom lip. Without asking, Misha locks eyes with Jensen and sucks the two fingers inside his mouth, and just the picture of it makes Jensen groan and rut against Misha's hip once more. Then he leans in and licks along the spot where Misha's lips stretch around his fingers, teasing the soft flesh there, and feels Misha shudder. After a short kiss against the corner of Misha's lips, Jensen withdraws his spit-slick fingers, and immediately reaches down behind Misha's balls to circle his entrance with his middle finger.
Misha's eyes roll to the back of his head and his eyes press shut as he buries his head in the crook of Jensen's neck. He writhes and moans, presses down onto the fingers, but Jensen's won't have any of that. Instead, he teases Misha with short thrusts against the ring of muscle without really slipping in, a few times until Misha groans again, clearly frustrated this time. “Just do it, for fuck's sake,” he swears, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.
God, hearing Misha curse is hotter than it probably should be, Jensen states quietly to himself, chuckles and breaches Misha with his finger, slipping in to the first knuckle, until he feels Misha's muscles clench and his breath hitch. “You okay?” he asks after a moment.
Breathing hard, Misha looks up at him. “Yes, just, go slow. Gimme a second.”
With a gentle smile, Jensen nods and leans down to kiss him, long and deliciously slowly, until he feels the muscle around his finger relax and accept the intrusion. Jensen carefully pushes in a bit further before he withdraws again and repeats those small thrusts, so small they barely count as thrusts. Misha grimaces underneath him, and his whole body goes taut. Jensen stops again to kiss him soothingly, but when he lifts his head a few seconds later, Misha shakes his head. “Sorry, would you mind if we not-?” he leaves the sentence unfinished, but Jensen gets it.
“If you don't want to, we don't have to,” he replies with a shrug and a smile, and it really is as simple as that. Jensen slowly withdraws his finger and leans over Misha's body to get a tissue from the bedside table to wipe his finger clean.
Misha watches him with a troubled expression and idly strokes the small of Jensen's back with his hand.
While he's already digging in his bedside table, Jensen gets the usual supplies out as well. Misha raises an eyebrow when lube and condom fall down onto the sheets beside him, and Jensen just winks as he throws one leg across Misha's hip, straddling him. Wordlessly, he grabs for Misha's right hand that's still on his lower back, reaches for the lube and pops it open, spreads a generous amount over Misha's fingers.
Blue eyes widen as Misha gets what Jensen is up to. Jensen, on the other hand, smirks as he guides Misha's hand back around himself, between his ass cheeks, where the tip of his finger immediately finds Jensen's entrance.
“You don't need to be so careful with me, Mish,” Jensen says hoarsely as he leans forward, covering Misha's body with his, “I'm pretty used to that-”
However, he still gasps for air when the first finger slips in in one, fluid motion. “Yeah, I almost forgot you like to do that when you get yourself off,” Misha notes amused and angles his finger forward, meeting Jensen's prostate dead on. Jensen arches his back into the touch instinctively.
Rubbing the tip of his finger over Jensen's prostate again and again, Misha turns him into a panting mess, and Jensen is that close to either coming or begging when Misha withdraws the finger. Jensen feels almost empty without it, but Misha quickly replaces it with two fingers, just resting them there to let Jensen get used to them. After a short while, Jensen feels his body relaxing, enjoying the pleasant feeling of being so full, and lets go. And because Misha doesn't move his hand, the bastard, Jensen begins to rock softly up and down on his spot above his hips.
Misha smirks at him when Jensen opens his hooded eyes. “My turn next time,” Misha states, and Jensen nods dazedly as he pats the bed beside Misha, searching for the condom packet. When Jensen fingers close around it, he stops the movement of his hips, opens the packet and rolls the condom over Misha's cock. The latter still has his fingers buried deep in Jensen's ass, not thrusting, just resting there as he repeatedly strokes the tips over Jensen's prostate, makes him shudder every single time.
Lifting himself off Misha's fingers, Jensen shifts forward over the other man's dick, holds it with his fingers wrapped around the base as he sinks down onto it. Jensen pants and throws his head back when the head slips into him, waits a few seconds to get used to the straining sensation, and takes it in inches from there, slowly bearing down until he's sitting flat on Misha's lap.
Oh, fuck.
Jensen barely finds words to describe how much he missed this. Feeling so filled up, Misha's cock buried balls-deep within him, stretching him so perfectly - Jensen absent-mindedly reaches behind his back, down to where his muscle is straining around Misha's cock, traces along the place where skin meets skin, and Misha sighs beneath him as Jensen's fingers trail across his balls. Jensen chuckles huskily.
Leaning forward once again, Jensen gently kisses Misha, and when they both start to move in unison, the feeling is changing once again, from a bit weird to deliciously arousing. Not that Jensen wasn't hard as fuck already, but this - this drives him straight to the edge, and he has to stop after a few thrusts to gasp for air and regain his self-control.
“Shit, I'm so close already,” Misha grunts beneath him, hardly able to control himself, and hides his face in Jensen's neck. He also uses that position to nibble and bite at Jensen's neck, down to his collarbone, and that is just not fair.
“Yeah, me too,” Jensen says. No use denying it.
“Can we blame this on long absence and all that later?” Misha asks, grimacing when Jensen rolls his hips down once more, picking up their agonizingly slow pace.
“Yup, I think we totally can.”
Their eyes meet once more, and Jensen can see the heat sparkling in Misha's blue ones - what little of the blue that's left around his blown-wide pupils. Misha places his hands on Jensen's hips, holds him there firmly when he thrusts upwards, hard, just a few times until his body tenses all over, hips stuttering and his back arching up. A long, uncontrolled groan escapes his lips as Misha comes, and Jensen can feel his cock twitching and pulsing within him, and that's just too much right now.
He reaches between their bodies, strokes his own dick with his hand until he follows Misha with a choked-off moan that's muffled by Misha's mouth on his, kissing him passionately. Long, white spurts hit Misha's chest and stomach, one droplet even landing on his chin, discovered by Jensen when he pulls away to catch his breath. He laughs lightly before he dips his head down and licks the sticky fluid from Misha's stubble-covered chin.
“Oh, wow,” is all Misha says afterwards.
Jensen places a short, loving peck on his mouth before he shifts forward, lets Misha's cock slowly slide out of him and drops down beside Misha. The blue-eyed man's hair is tousled and messy, and Jensen runs his hand through it, smoothing it back down to ruffle it again.
Misha laughs affectionately and pulls Jensen closer, their bodies slotting together.
“Misha, condom,” Jensen says with a grin.
“Right. I almost forgot,” Misha answers and reaches down to pull it off. Jensen quickly hands him a tissue to wrap it in. “I meant it, you know,” Misha adds quietly.
“What?”
“That next time, it's my turn,” Misha smiles.
“Yeah, I'm okay with that,” Jensen answers seriously.
Misha kisses him then suddenly looks a bit worried. “You know, I have issues sometimes, to let someone else have control. Like today. But please don't get me wrong, I trust you. I do.”
“I know,” Jensen smiles gently, runs his hand over Misha's cheek. Misha's expression relaxes as he cuddles into Jensen's chest.
They lay like that for countless minutes, Jensen playing with the strands of Misha's hair while the other man kisses his chest lazily, until Misha jolts up. “Uhm... don't you have to work today?”
“Yeah,” Jensen drawls lazily. “In about two hours.”
“Well, then I'd say, you go hop under the shower, and I'll get some breakfast going.”
Jensen buries his nose in Misha's hair. “Don't wanna stand up.”
Misha laughs against his neck. “We can cuddle when you're back home.”
“'m not cuddling,” Jensen mumbles, and Misha laughs again before he more-or-less pushes him out of bed.
Jensen stumbles to his feet, flips Misha the finger and heads for the bathroom. And if he's really aware that he's buck naked and teasing Misha with the sight, then, well. He turns around one last time, winks at Misha and shakes his hips.
Misha groans and falls back into the sheets.
The grin on his face is persistent, through the shower and shaving and when he's leaving the bathroom only clad in his boxers, Misha is sitting on the small balcony. The table is covered with two plates and cups full of coffee and it smells delicious. Plus, Misha also only wears his boxers.
He made pancakes and there are fresh apples and bananas cut on top of them. And bacon and Nutella.
“Trust me, you'll like it,” is all Misha says.
Jensen shrugs and dives into his breakfast, and all he can think is that this, the way it is right now, is perfect. Having breakfast at sunrise on the balcony, with a half-naked and post-coital Misha, that's perfection.
The pancakes also taste wonderful, and Jensen tells Misha as much.
Two months later, the governments of two states decide that after the great results the rainbow-colored moon left in a large part of the population, it was time to allow gay marriage. To much of the conservatives' obvious dismay, that is.
Jensen and Misha couldn't be happier about it.
Because that means more protestors in front of the White House. And that, of course, means they are finally able to screw with them, big time. It had taken a good planning session with Jared and the minions, but now the time has come to implement it.
“You ready?” Misha asks from beside him.
Jensen nods in response. “Let's go.”
They walk straight up to the fifty, maybe sixty people piling in front of the gates, Jensen with a megaphone in hand, Misha with a large plastic box.
The guy up front holds a sign that says 'Homosexuals will not inherit the kingdom of god', on the sign of the women next to him is written 'Sodomites will go to hell.' Misha snorts indignantly, but only for Jensen to hear. Then he places the box in a good distance to the crowd, and Jensen winks at the guard to let them know they are those two guys. They managed to sneak in a note to them beforehand. Turns out the security guys are just as annoyed by the protestors as Misha and Jensen are.
Misha jumps onto the box and Jensen steps up beside him. After clearing his throat, Jensen lifts the megaphone to his mouth and pushes the button.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for coming today!” his amplified voice sounds over the crowd, and people go quiet within seconds.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen notices that Misha's lips curl into a small smile. Well, it may or may not have been Misha who called a few conservative parties to set the date for today's protest action. His eyes are sparkling amused, and even after two months of basically living together, sleeping together and backing each other up in their plans, Jensen barely can take his eyes off the other man. Focus, Jensen, he tells himself. He's got a job to do here. Jensen sees that Jared is in place, right at the back of the crowd, and grinning at him. He gives him a thumbs-up to show that he's ready.
“Don't worry, I won't hold you up that long,” Jensen says. “I just wanted to say that I'm very happy that in a country where everyone is able to speak their own opinion and live along to their own beliefs, that there are still people out there who care about telling others what they should do instead. It shows that you care about others, and,” he points to the man and woman up front, “about their afterlife.”
He receives some strange glances from a few people. Apparently, they already sense that something here is not the way they expected it to be. Jensen smiles overly sweet.
“If you're wondering who we are - you can just call me J. Maybe you've heard of me before.”
Eyes snap wide open all around the crowd. Some people turn to each other, start whispering questions.
“And this is M, my partner in crime,” Jensen says, pointing to Misha.
The expressions have turned shocked by now. But, apparently they're so shocked that no one moves or attempts to run away.
“Don't worry, you know that massacres are not our style. Anyway, we've got to tell you something. You know, the whole painting the moon in rainbow colors thing? That was us, beginning to end. So I hope you enjoy our constant reminder that there are people out there that suffer from you trying to make their lives miserable. And you know what? Being gay is not a choice, but being a homophobe is.” Jensen makes a dramatic pause, waits for his words to sink in before he continues. “Oh, and the moon is also a reminder for you that there are also people out there that don't give a crap about your bullshit opinion and are very happy that way.”
The people track his every move as Jensen lifts his unoccupied arm, wraps it around Misha's shoulders and pulls him into his chest to kiss him lovingly.
An uproar of disgusted yelling, almost deafening, reaches their ears, but Jensen really couldn't care less. Misha's lips are drawn into a grin, and Jensen can't help but also smile into the kiss. He's proud, so proud of standing here, standing up for what they've done, for their sexual orientation, in front of basically the whole world, because they also alerted some reporters from various TV stations. When they break apart, the crowd looks ready to beat them up, but the security guards handle them just fine.
Jensen lifts the megaphone once more, his arm still around Misha's waist. “So, I hate to break this to you, but here are two men standing in front of you that love each other no matter what you're trying to tell them. No matter how you think they should live their life. I bet we have more fun in our life than you will ever have, because we are happy with who we are and not miserable and hating on others. We don't feel obligated to ruin other people's lives. But telling you this won't ever make you understand, and I know that. All I gotta say is this: enjoy our J&Ms.”
When he puts it down, Misha quickly grabs the megaphone and pushes the button to speak. “Oh, and just for the record,” he says, pointing at the woman with the Sodomites-will-go-to-hell-sign, “I think hell will be fabulous.”
Jared chooses that moment to fire the grenade-sized bombs he rolled through the crowd without them noticing. They go off in one single poof, covering the crowd in a pink cloud, and Jared, Jensen, and Misha use the moment to run around the nearest street corner. The fog doesn't spread, it's not supposed to. They developed it like that.
When the cloud lifts, there are men kissing men and women kissing women, and their signs lay discarded on the floor. Even the guards started to make out with each other.
It's hilarious.
The three of them simultaneously break into a loud laughing fit. Jared snorts with laughter as he slides down the fence he's leaning against, sits on the floor with tears in his eyes. Misha has his arm around Jensen's shoulders and chuckles into his neck. Happiness spreads through Jensen in waves. Everything is perfect, everything went according to plan. “You guys,” he gasps through Jared's and Misha's hysterical laughing, “Usually, I would find any same-sex orgy hot, but this-” he points to the bunch of mid-40s housewives going at it, “- is not hot, that's simply awesome in a very pathetic way.”
Misha gasps for air to calm down a bit, then grabs Jensen's face with both hands and kisses him senseless.
When they pull apart, Jensen grins at Misha. “You should probably call your mom.”
“Yeah, I should,” Misha grins back and pulls his phone out of his pocket to dial the number.
She doesn't even get to say hello.
“Mom, you might wanna turn on the news,” Misha says immediately after she picked up.
Three days later, they receive the letter.
They're in the Evil League of Evil, both of them. The vacant seat goes to J & M, the duo that battled for the equality of gay marriage and won without committing a crime, but just a couple of stupid pranks.
<< Chapter 5 |
Masterpost >>