Surprise!Feelings
I need an icon for this, but whatevs.
Title: Surprise!Feelings
Fandom: RPS
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Misha
Word Count: 2,537
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Gay sex!
Summary: They never admit feelings for each other, until Jared does. Written because of this, though I may have added more touching. And I was really too lazy to think of a decent title.
Everyone thinks they hate each other, and that’s mostly because of the way they treat each other in public. Well, maybe “hate” is a strong word, but they certainly don’t make it easy on each other. And Misha’s far too stubborn to show how much he cares about the bastard, preferring the constant battle of wits between them.
There are times when Jared slips up and admits affection. It usually happens when Misha isn’t there to defend himself, and they later write it off as being polite. And then, even later, Jared will do his best to humiliate Misha in front of as many people as possible, all with an extremely satisfied grin smeared over his face.
Maybe it shouldn’t surprise Misha, but it does. He’s used to being the weird one who does his own thing, everybody else just sitting back to see what happens. So, doing something as simple as standing up on a chair and stretching his body as far as it can go - and maybe further - to try to cover up Jared’s face on a convention poster doesn’t seem like it should warrant any great concern from anybody. Sure, he wobbles a bit, but he doesn’t expect anybody to try and steady him; least of all, Jared.
It’s hard to not startle and flinch when Jared’s arms are suddenly bracketing his body, holding the chair and Misha’s legs steady. In fact, he almost does the complete opposite of what Jared wants him to do, which is stay upright, instead of toppling over and breaking something. Of course, he’s sure Jared would laugh at him if that happened. Although, the hand Jared has on his knee might be telling him otherwise.
Misha’s not used to Jared touching him with any sort of concern like this. They have that sort of love/hate relationship that results in quick, rough fucks in their trailers between scenes and manly shoulder-slaps by way of apology. Not this warm, steady press of a hand supporting him, or these arms guarding him from a terrible fate. It gets worse when he finally decides to get down, Jared’s hands helping him along, touching more of his legs, his back, his chest. He feels Jared drift away once he’s safe and takes a moment before whirling around to face Jared, quick with a joke and a laugh.
It has been a while since they’ve seen each other, summer hiatus spreading between them. But Misha’s even more surprised when Jared crowds him in the elevator later, hot and close.
“Are you crazy?” Jared hisses, backing Misha into a corner as the floors ding past and looking down at him. “Could’ve broken your fucking neck.”
Misha can’t explain why, but he feels intimidated by Jared for the first time. He’s usually too stubborn for that. Still, he laughs, cocking his head and looking up at Jared. “I think you’re overreacting a little.”
“Right,” Jared says, taking a small step back, and Misha holds his sigh of relief as he watches Jared clench his jaw and cross his arms in front of his chest. “Because that canvas chair was totally stable.”
Misha snorts. “Since when are you so concerned?”
“Since I miss you.”
Misha pauses, and he can tell from the brief shock that passes over Jared’s face that Jared hadn’t meant to blurt that one out. They would never admit to missing each other. “…Right, Padalecki, I think Jensen’s been running you a little too hard through his second directing gig.” The doors open on their floor, and Jared’s arm bars Misha from getting out.
“…What if I meant it?” Jared asks tentatively, so quiet that Misha almost pretends nothing happened.
Misha’s halfway through a scoff when he catches the look on Jared’s face: the wide, scared, pleading eyes, the slight color in the cheeks, and the slightly parted lips, like Jared’s panicking so hard he’s about to start gasping for breath. Misha straightens up, smile fading as the elevator closes and starts to head downward again. “You’re serious.” He tilts his head again, because this can’t be right. “Are you serious?”
Without warning, Jared reaches past Misha and presses a button he isn’t really supposed to press, which wouldn’t be the first time. The elevator stops so suddenly that Misha loses his footing and crashes back into the wall, groaning and catching himself just before he falls to the floor. Then Jared’s arms are around him again.
“Shit, Misha, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…I wasn’t thinking, I just…Are you okay?”
Misha straightens up with Jared’s help and half-glares at him. “Now who’s crazy?”
“Alright, just, hear me out,” Jared says, all in one breath, pushing Misha up against the wall, eyes wide and panicked. “I miss you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I miss having you around, I miss making fun of you, and I miss touching you.”
Misha swallows, trying to take this all in. Of course, he opts for the smartass response: “Why do you make ours sound like a forbidden love?”
Jared actually looks hurt, which is new. It kind of twists Misha’s chest in a way he never thought it would. “Misha, I’m serious.”
Not knowing what else to do, Misha manages to reach out and push the forbidden button, plus their floor number. The elevator jolts into motion again, going back up, and Jared startles and then moves away, looking more dejected than Misha’s ever seen him.
“Calm down, Padalecki,” Misha says, and it’s a bit softer of a tone than he usually uses with Jared, which he isn’t used to. “I didn’t say no to anything. I just feel that we should maybe talk this out somewhere more private, where hotel security won’t beat us with heavy sticks for fucking with the building’s equipment.”
Jared acknowledges Misha with a slightly brighter expression and a small nod, and they ride the rest of the way in silence. Misha gets off first when the elevator doors open, and Jared follows behind. It’s awkward and tense, and Misha can’t blame Jared for being so fucking weird, because this is screwing with his head more than anything else ever has. And he played a fucking serial killer.
Misha unlocks the door to his room, painfully aware of Jared standing behind him, and opens it, walking in. He moves over to the far wall, staring out the window for a second before turning around to face Jared. For a few moments, there’s nothing but awkward silence, fidgeting, strange changes in posture, and almost-glances. Finally, Misha breaks the ice.
“Okay, so…run this by me again?” He’s pretty sure Jared might hate how casual he sounds, but he can’t help it. Taking this any deeper is a little bit frightening.
“Misha…” Jared looks small all of a sudden, like he’s still just waiting to be defeated. But Misha has to give him credit for the way he suddenly sets his jaw and makes eye contact, determined to do this now. “I miss you. And I know it’s weird to say, and I know I give you shit all the time, but I guess it’s because I…have feelings for you.”
Misha blinks while Jared looks awkward, hand rubbing the back of his neck and then pushing through his hair, making it fall in strange angles around his face. He steps back a little, only to lean back against the wall and think about this as Jared waits for an answer. What they have is fun, crazy, rough, harsh, still friendly. He takes a moment to look Jared up and down, and finds himself getting caught up in things like the way Jared nervously bites his lip, or the way Jared’s left eye is just slightly hidden by unruly Padalecki hair. He realizes that he’s picking up on these things rather than how Jared’s ass looks in those jeans.
Curious, Misha takes a step closer, another following slowly after. Jared straightens up and stiffens, as if he’s about to be attacked. Misha wonders if it’s really any different, the way he makes his way over to Jared only to suddenly grab him and pull him down into a kiss, Jared’s initial response a startled squeak into Misha’s mouth.
The thing about kissing someone is that it’s an easy way to gauge how you really feel about a person. Or so Misha thinks. He and Jared don’t kiss often, and when they do, it’s only angry, biting kisses that only briefly happen to initiate sex. For a second, this kiss is like that, which is normal.
So, it completely derails Misha’s thought process when Jared’s hands suddenly cup Misha’s face, only slight pressure to slow Misha down some, give Jared a chance to moan quietly and give a slow roll of his tongue past Misha’s parted lips. It’s like something’s broken in Misha’s brain, letting Jared lead him before he finally starts reciprocating. All this time, and Misha hadn’t even realized just how soft Jared’s lips were; how kissing could make them so wet and pliant instead of hard and bruising. He never truly took the time to notice how Jared tasted, tongue curling with Jared’s. He almost laughs when he thinks he tastes candy, but he’s too caught up in how good this is, and how his heart might just explode in his chest.
It’s not surprising when they end up in bed together, but it is surprising when Jared submits without protest, sucking Misha’s dick with something like reverence. It’s not the way it always is, with Misha cursing low and dirty, while Jared blows him and glares up at him, challenging, the slightest hint of teeth a teasing threat that only happens once before Jared easily rolls over. Jared always fights it, always goes down hard and gritty, even though he loves to be fucked.
No, this time Jared’s eyes are closed, concentrating as he bobs smoothly over Misha’s dick, teeth covered, tongue light and teasing before going heavy and encouraging, one hand resting over Misha’s hip while the other gently fondles his balls, fingertips surprisingly soft. And Misha can only watch for so long until his head drops back on the pillow beneath him. He’s left speechless, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to remember how to breathe and how to not come quick and make Jared choke on it.
Jared still rolls over for him, but Misha actually hesitates for a moment, even after taking his time fingering Jared’s ass open, slicking it up with lube. He slowly pushes in, Jared down on his elbows, ass in the air, moaning and shoving back into Misha, wanting more. For the first time, Misha almost doesn’t know what to do, almost forgets how sex works with Jared, because it’s never been like this before. It’s always been shoving in, getting off, and maybe helping Jared finish himself off, if he didn’t come while being fucked. But, now…
Misha doesn’t even know what to do with his hands, his hips beginning to thrust on their own. He grabs Jared’s hips at first, helping to pull Jared back into his own thrusts, and then he moves them to Jared’s ass, groping and spreading it to watch his dick fuck in and out of Jared’s tight hole. He groans and shudders, finally moving to hover over Jared, hands planted on either side of Jared’s body, arms holding himself up. Jared likes that angle better, and Misha can tell from the way Jared jolts and half-whimpers. It’s strange, how Jared’s reaction makes Misha’s heart rate jump up, his dick stiffen, his hips try to aim, try to please. It wasn’t about pleasing each other before. It was about getting off, dominating, anything but this.
His brain is a little hazy right now, but Misha thinks this is the first time that he reaches around for Jared’s dick, takes it in his hand, and jacks it in time with his thrusts. He feels strange and off-balance, but Jared shivers and bucks beneath him, voice muffled slightly by the pillows, though Misha can still hear every hitched breath, every curse, every “oh God” that slips past Jared’s lips.
It’s all happening fast; he can feel how thick, hard, and wet Jared is in his hand, can feel Jared’s ass tightening around him, body shaking and tensing under him. He sees Jared’s fingers curling and gripping the sheets, and it’s the choked, barely audible whine of his own name that breaks Misha. He pulls out and pushes with shaking hands, grunting as he gets Jared flipped over onto his back, Jared’s face flushed, hair sticking to sweat-soaked skin, the look in Jared’s eyes confused and lust-driven. Misha takes it in for a second: Jared’s dick hard and spilling pre-come onto his stomach, balls pulled up nice and tight, color so much darker than the rest of Jared’s body, and Misha knows how they must be aching for release.
He spreads and bends Jared’s legs up at the knees, arms sliding beneath them, and moves close, lining himself up and shoving in again. He just needed to see it this time, Jared’s orgasm, but even this part is worth it, how Jared’s eyes widen, mouth falling open in a gasp as Misha opens him up and fills him again. Eye contact isn’t something that’s happened much in the past, Jared’s hands gripping Misha’s shoulders, groping down his back, and Misha can’t do much but gasp himself at the intensity of it, hips moving harder, faster. He’s getting closer, and for the first time, he leans down, taking Jared’s lips for a kiss while fucking, completely losing control of the rhythm of his hips. He feels like he can barely breathe, but still teases Jared’s tongue with his own, still swallows all the helpless little moans and whimpers that he’s punching out of Jared.
It feels a little like he’s coming up from under water when Jared’s head jerks back and their mouths separate, and suddenly Jared’s coming, shock in his eyes before they squeeze shut, nails digging into Misha’s back, ass clenching hard around Misha’s dick as he jerks and shakes through his orgasm, arching and gasping for air.
Misha realizes that Jared just came untouched, and he barely pulls out before he’s coming, hand quickly moving down to hold himself as he shoots all over Jared’s balls, dick, and belly. He practically collapses beside Jared on the bed as he finishes, brain still buzzing, trying to breathe and come down from an impossible high.
Jared groans, and it’s a long while before Misha can open his eyes again and look over to see what a mess Jared is, drenched in sweat and come. He nudges Jared’s arm with his elbow, and Jared turns towards him a little, lacking the energy to roll closer.
“Does this change everything?” Jared asks, voice tired and raw, eyes barely open.
Misha takes a deep breath and slowly lets it back out, finally answering with, “For the better.” He might feel like an ass for saying it, and it might terrify him, but somehow it’s worth it for the slight up-tick of Jared’s lips as his eyes slip closed the rest of the way.
Title: Surprise!Feelings
Fandom: RPS
Characters/Pairings: Jared/Misha
Word Count: 2,537
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Gay sex!
Summary: They never admit feelings for each other, until Jared does. Written because of this, though I may have added more touching. And I was really too lazy to think of a decent title.
Everyone thinks they hate each other, and that’s mostly because of the way they treat each other in public. Well, maybe “hate” is a strong word, but they certainly don’t make it easy on each other. And Misha’s far too stubborn to show how much he cares about the bastard, preferring the constant battle of wits between them.
There are times when Jared slips up and admits affection. It usually happens when Misha isn’t there to defend himself, and they later write it off as being polite. And then, even later, Jared will do his best to humiliate Misha in front of as many people as possible, all with an extremely satisfied grin smeared over his face.
Maybe it shouldn’t surprise Misha, but it does. He’s used to being the weird one who does his own thing, everybody else just sitting back to see what happens. So, doing something as simple as standing up on a chair and stretching his body as far as it can go - and maybe further - to try to cover up Jared’s face on a convention poster doesn’t seem like it should warrant any great concern from anybody. Sure, he wobbles a bit, but he doesn’t expect anybody to try and steady him; least of all, Jared.
It’s hard to not startle and flinch when Jared’s arms are suddenly bracketing his body, holding the chair and Misha’s legs steady. In fact, he almost does the complete opposite of what Jared wants him to do, which is stay upright, instead of toppling over and breaking something. Of course, he’s sure Jared would laugh at him if that happened. Although, the hand Jared has on his knee might be telling him otherwise.
Misha’s not used to Jared touching him with any sort of concern like this. They have that sort of love/hate relationship that results in quick, rough fucks in their trailers between scenes and manly shoulder-slaps by way of apology. Not this warm, steady press of a hand supporting him, or these arms guarding him from a terrible fate. It gets worse when he finally decides to get down, Jared’s hands helping him along, touching more of his legs, his back, his chest. He feels Jared drift away once he’s safe and takes a moment before whirling around to face Jared, quick with a joke and a laugh.
It has been a while since they’ve seen each other, summer hiatus spreading between them. But Misha’s even more surprised when Jared crowds him in the elevator later, hot and close.
“Are you crazy?” Jared hisses, backing Misha into a corner as the floors ding past and looking down at him. “Could’ve broken your fucking neck.”
Misha can’t explain why, but he feels intimidated by Jared for the first time. He’s usually too stubborn for that. Still, he laughs, cocking his head and looking up at Jared. “I think you’re overreacting a little.”
“Right,” Jared says, taking a small step back, and Misha holds his sigh of relief as he watches Jared clench his jaw and cross his arms in front of his chest. “Because that canvas chair was totally stable.”
Misha snorts. “Since when are you so concerned?”
“Since I miss you.”
Misha pauses, and he can tell from the brief shock that passes over Jared’s face that Jared hadn’t meant to blurt that one out. They would never admit to missing each other. “…Right, Padalecki, I think Jensen’s been running you a little too hard through his second directing gig.” The doors open on their floor, and Jared’s arm bars Misha from getting out.
“…What if I meant it?” Jared asks tentatively, so quiet that Misha almost pretends nothing happened.
Misha’s halfway through a scoff when he catches the look on Jared’s face: the wide, scared, pleading eyes, the slight color in the cheeks, and the slightly parted lips, like Jared’s panicking so hard he’s about to start gasping for breath. Misha straightens up, smile fading as the elevator closes and starts to head downward again. “You’re serious.” He tilts his head again, because this can’t be right. “Are you serious?”
Without warning, Jared reaches past Misha and presses a button he isn’t really supposed to press, which wouldn’t be the first time. The elevator stops so suddenly that Misha loses his footing and crashes back into the wall, groaning and catching himself just before he falls to the floor. Then Jared’s arms are around him again.
“Shit, Misha, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…I wasn’t thinking, I just…Are you okay?”
Misha straightens up with Jared’s help and half-glares at him. “Now who’s crazy?”
“Alright, just, hear me out,” Jared says, all in one breath, pushing Misha up against the wall, eyes wide and panicked. “I miss you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I miss having you around, I miss making fun of you, and I miss touching you.”
Misha swallows, trying to take this all in. Of course, he opts for the smartass response: “Why do you make ours sound like a forbidden love?”
Jared actually looks hurt, which is new. It kind of twists Misha’s chest in a way he never thought it would. “Misha, I’m serious.”
Not knowing what else to do, Misha manages to reach out and push the forbidden button, plus their floor number. The elevator jolts into motion again, going back up, and Jared startles and then moves away, looking more dejected than Misha’s ever seen him.
“Calm down, Padalecki,” Misha says, and it’s a bit softer of a tone than he usually uses with Jared, which he isn’t used to. “I didn’t say no to anything. I just feel that we should maybe talk this out somewhere more private, where hotel security won’t beat us with heavy sticks for fucking with the building’s equipment.”
Jared acknowledges Misha with a slightly brighter expression and a small nod, and they ride the rest of the way in silence. Misha gets off first when the elevator doors open, and Jared follows behind. It’s awkward and tense, and Misha can’t blame Jared for being so fucking weird, because this is screwing with his head more than anything else ever has. And he played a fucking serial killer.
Misha unlocks the door to his room, painfully aware of Jared standing behind him, and opens it, walking in. He moves over to the far wall, staring out the window for a second before turning around to face Jared. For a few moments, there’s nothing but awkward silence, fidgeting, strange changes in posture, and almost-glances. Finally, Misha breaks the ice.
“Okay, so…run this by me again?” He’s pretty sure Jared might hate how casual he sounds, but he can’t help it. Taking this any deeper is a little bit frightening.
“Misha…” Jared looks small all of a sudden, like he’s still just waiting to be defeated. But Misha has to give him credit for the way he suddenly sets his jaw and makes eye contact, determined to do this now. “I miss you. And I know it’s weird to say, and I know I give you shit all the time, but I guess it’s because I…have feelings for you.”
Misha blinks while Jared looks awkward, hand rubbing the back of his neck and then pushing through his hair, making it fall in strange angles around his face. He steps back a little, only to lean back against the wall and think about this as Jared waits for an answer. What they have is fun, crazy, rough, harsh, still friendly. He takes a moment to look Jared up and down, and finds himself getting caught up in things like the way Jared nervously bites his lip, or the way Jared’s left eye is just slightly hidden by unruly Padalecki hair. He realizes that he’s picking up on these things rather than how Jared’s ass looks in those jeans.
Curious, Misha takes a step closer, another following slowly after. Jared straightens up and stiffens, as if he’s about to be attacked. Misha wonders if it’s really any different, the way he makes his way over to Jared only to suddenly grab him and pull him down into a kiss, Jared’s initial response a startled squeak into Misha’s mouth.
The thing about kissing someone is that it’s an easy way to gauge how you really feel about a person. Or so Misha thinks. He and Jared don’t kiss often, and when they do, it’s only angry, biting kisses that only briefly happen to initiate sex. For a second, this kiss is like that, which is normal.
So, it completely derails Misha’s thought process when Jared’s hands suddenly cup Misha’s face, only slight pressure to slow Misha down some, give Jared a chance to moan quietly and give a slow roll of his tongue past Misha’s parted lips. It’s like something’s broken in Misha’s brain, letting Jared lead him before he finally starts reciprocating. All this time, and Misha hadn’t even realized just how soft Jared’s lips were; how kissing could make them so wet and pliant instead of hard and bruising. He never truly took the time to notice how Jared tasted, tongue curling with Jared’s. He almost laughs when he thinks he tastes candy, but he’s too caught up in how good this is, and how his heart might just explode in his chest.
It’s not surprising when they end up in bed together, but it is surprising when Jared submits without protest, sucking Misha’s dick with something like reverence. It’s not the way it always is, with Misha cursing low and dirty, while Jared blows him and glares up at him, challenging, the slightest hint of teeth a teasing threat that only happens once before Jared easily rolls over. Jared always fights it, always goes down hard and gritty, even though he loves to be fucked.
No, this time Jared’s eyes are closed, concentrating as he bobs smoothly over Misha’s dick, teeth covered, tongue light and teasing before going heavy and encouraging, one hand resting over Misha’s hip while the other gently fondles his balls, fingertips surprisingly soft. And Misha can only watch for so long until his head drops back on the pillow beneath him. He’s left speechless, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to remember how to breathe and how to not come quick and make Jared choke on it.
Jared still rolls over for him, but Misha actually hesitates for a moment, even after taking his time fingering Jared’s ass open, slicking it up with lube. He slowly pushes in, Jared down on his elbows, ass in the air, moaning and shoving back into Misha, wanting more. For the first time, Misha almost doesn’t know what to do, almost forgets how sex works with Jared, because it’s never been like this before. It’s always been shoving in, getting off, and maybe helping Jared finish himself off, if he didn’t come while being fucked. But, now…
Misha doesn’t even know what to do with his hands, his hips beginning to thrust on their own. He grabs Jared’s hips at first, helping to pull Jared back into his own thrusts, and then he moves them to Jared’s ass, groping and spreading it to watch his dick fuck in and out of Jared’s tight hole. He groans and shudders, finally moving to hover over Jared, hands planted on either side of Jared’s body, arms holding himself up. Jared likes that angle better, and Misha can tell from the way Jared jolts and half-whimpers. It’s strange, how Jared’s reaction makes Misha’s heart rate jump up, his dick stiffen, his hips try to aim, try to please. It wasn’t about pleasing each other before. It was about getting off, dominating, anything but this.
His brain is a little hazy right now, but Misha thinks this is the first time that he reaches around for Jared’s dick, takes it in his hand, and jacks it in time with his thrusts. He feels strange and off-balance, but Jared shivers and bucks beneath him, voice muffled slightly by the pillows, though Misha can still hear every hitched breath, every curse, every “oh God” that slips past Jared’s lips.
It’s all happening fast; he can feel how thick, hard, and wet Jared is in his hand, can feel Jared’s ass tightening around him, body shaking and tensing under him. He sees Jared’s fingers curling and gripping the sheets, and it’s the choked, barely audible whine of his own name that breaks Misha. He pulls out and pushes with shaking hands, grunting as he gets Jared flipped over onto his back, Jared’s face flushed, hair sticking to sweat-soaked skin, the look in Jared’s eyes confused and lust-driven. Misha takes it in for a second: Jared’s dick hard and spilling pre-come onto his stomach, balls pulled up nice and tight, color so much darker than the rest of Jared’s body, and Misha knows how they must be aching for release.
He spreads and bends Jared’s legs up at the knees, arms sliding beneath them, and moves close, lining himself up and shoving in again. He just needed to see it this time, Jared’s orgasm, but even this part is worth it, how Jared’s eyes widen, mouth falling open in a gasp as Misha opens him up and fills him again. Eye contact isn’t something that’s happened much in the past, Jared’s hands gripping Misha’s shoulders, groping down his back, and Misha can’t do much but gasp himself at the intensity of it, hips moving harder, faster. He’s getting closer, and for the first time, he leans down, taking Jared’s lips for a kiss while fucking, completely losing control of the rhythm of his hips. He feels like he can barely breathe, but still teases Jared’s tongue with his own, still swallows all the helpless little moans and whimpers that he’s punching out of Jared.
It feels a little like he’s coming up from under water when Jared’s head jerks back and their mouths separate, and suddenly Jared’s coming, shock in his eyes before they squeeze shut, nails digging into Misha’s back, ass clenching hard around Misha’s dick as he jerks and shakes through his orgasm, arching and gasping for air.
Misha realizes that Jared just came untouched, and he barely pulls out before he’s coming, hand quickly moving down to hold himself as he shoots all over Jared’s balls, dick, and belly. He practically collapses beside Jared on the bed as he finishes, brain still buzzing, trying to breathe and come down from an impossible high.
Jared groans, and it’s a long while before Misha can open his eyes again and look over to see what a mess Jared is, drenched in sweat and come. He nudges Jared’s arm with his elbow, and Jared turns towards him a little, lacking the energy to roll closer.
“Does this change everything?” Jared asks, voice tired and raw, eyes barely open.
Misha takes a deep breath and slowly lets it back out, finally answering with, “For the better.” He might feel like an ass for saying it, and it might terrify him, but somehow it’s worth it for the slight up-tick of Jared’s lips as his eyes slip closed the rest of the way.