#bottom!misha

😏

At first, Jensen was afraid. He was afraid to feel this way for his friend, and was afraid to discover it was nothing like how he felt for Jared. Jared was a whole other story. They were friends- best friends; brothers. He liked to say that for Mish as well, but with Misha, it was... different. Misha had him blushing, and stuttering, and denying himself so much out of fear that he would validate that it was real. Because it was real. It was so real how he fell in love- it didn't feel much different than when he had fallen in love with his first girlfriend, or any woman after that for that matter. How every little thing they did made him laugh, gave him butterflies, made him love them that much more... It just felt right, and that was enough to make Misha stay. Why would he stay? When Jensen wouldn't even allow them a simple kiss in public or even out of the bedroom to say, 'look! We finally did it!' He kept it all on lock down, because yeah, he was always kind of uncomfortable with sharing his life with the world, although this was a whole different level of privacy. But it also gave him a thrill to know that it was theirs, and only theirs, whatever it was. That nobody else knew about it, so it was something they could cherish together. Misha didn't mind- all he cared about was the time they did spend together, because then, Jensen would give himself over fully and just let things be. Sometimes, Jen would bring him home to Texas. Misha would tease him for being scared of the thunderstorms, and Jensen would burst into a full body laugh, a laugh that no one but Misha could wrangle out of him. Then Misha would utter those words. Those painful, hopeful, beautiful words. "I love you." Jensen would smile, kiss, suck, tickle his way out of replying, and he felt bad, but Misha always knew that it was mutual. Sometimes, when they were in bed, and Jensen was lying back in the sheets, one of Misha's hands pressing down on his chest as he rode him, he would consider what it would be like to simply give in. Just forget that whole image of himself, and let himself be happy with this beautiful man. And he was beautiful; especially like this, sweat slick hair matted against his forehead as his back arched up when Jen's dick ground into his prostate, the mattress protesting under them as they both milked every second together for all it was worth. Then Misha would come on his cock, and it would be the most gorgeous thing Jensen had ever seen to date. His blue eyes would slide shut, mindless ramblings tumbling out of his mouth as Jensen bottomed out into the smaller man's welcoming hole. Then Jensen would roll them over, and spend minutes, hours sometimes, just kissing Misha all over, loving him, and holding him close. Misha would love it, stretching and yawning like a cat every time Jensen would kiss a good spot, and then, later, when the brunette was asleep, Jensen would curl into him, listening to the sound of soft breath against his neck. This man had no problem admitting to the world who he was. In fact, he revelled in non-conformism. So why... why was it so hard for Jen? Why couldn't he just come out and tell the world how much he loved this man, laying next to him? But then, of course, that would cheapen it. It wouldn't be theirs anymore. One day it might happen... he might let it slip in conversation, and he might not care. But right now, with Misha sleeping in his arms, a light Texas storm brewing outside, Jensen felt at home- and everything would be alright in the end. He leaned over, watching the rise and fall of his friend and lover, and whispered gently as he realized it all, "I love you too." And he'll be damned if that wasn't enough.

I'm sorry I was tired but I wanted to write. Synopsis: Misha wanted to experiment with himself, but what would Vicki think? So when a late night of filming forces him to spend the night in his trailer, he takes his opportunity. (shitty summary is shitty) •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Misha cast a wary glance around his trailer from where he stood in the doorway. Coming to the conclusion that it was empty, and he was alone, he pushed the door shut behind him and turned the lock. He dropped his car keys onto the table, along with a stack of papers, a script laden with director’s notes, that Jensen had asked him to look over. He pulled the blinds on the door and the window behind his small sofa, which he then flops down onto. It’s late, making the inside of the trailer is a beacon of light in the dark lot - and besides, he wasn’t particularly keen on any of the cast or crew becoming unintentional peeping toms. Head resting against the wall of the trailer, Misha lets his mind wander, taking little care in controlling where it went. It inevitably went to both Vicki and Jensen, a pair that were extraordinarily comfortable around one another already, without Misha’s own personal fantasies cutting in. He pictured Vicki leading him through their house to find Jensen sitting on their bed, leaning against the headboard, legs crossed in front of him. He saw Vicki smile schemingly as the fantasy-him understood what was happening. He saw Jensen approach him and press their lips together. He felt Vicki’s hands trailing down his body. Back in reality, inside Misha’s trailer, his breath was beginning to pick up, and he could feel an uncomfortable amount of strain in his jeans. Hands starting to wander, he unlatched his belt, and pulled it deftly through the loops, and dropped it onto the floor in front of him. It was soon joined by the jeans, as well as his shoes and socks. Then the only thing between his eager fingers and ever hardening cock was the thin fabric of his boxers. But he resisted touching himself. Instead, he reached into a drawer across from the couch and pulled out a bottle of lube, and a vibrator. Granted they were in a box inside the drawer, but in theory anyone could have found them, and he found that thrilling. Misha removed what little cloth was still covering his lower half, then leaned back into the couch, placed one foot on the floor in front of him and lifted the other up onto the fabric next to him. He popped open the bottle and let the cool lube glide down his fingers. feeling it warm up as it moved. He soon moved his fingers to his entrance, eyes closed and mouth open. He pressed one finger against his hole, gasping slightly at the feeling, entirely foreign to him. Admittedly, he’d slept with men before, but he’d never bottomed. He had been wanting to try it for ages, but didn't want to bring it up with Vicki, and the late night into early morning filming gave him the opportunity for him to excuse himself to his trailer “to sleep”. Fingertip circling his rim, Misha threw his head back against the wall and slowly pressed in. Once his muscles relaxed, a low moan escaped his lips, inexplicably forming the name “Jensen”. More moaning and the beginnings of panting poured from his mouth as he adjusted to and began moving the first finger, then added a second. He soon had three fingers inside him and was scissoring himself open, filling the trailer with the sounds of hot, heavy breath and deep moans. Still not having touched his pulsing cock at all, Misha withdrew his fingers. His hips bucked at the sudden emptiness, and he hastily positioned the vibrator at his entrance. This time he went beyond moans, and his deep voice bounced around the room, “Oh, fuck.” He pushed the toy in further, a string of expletives streaming from his mouth as he turned it on. Misha bucked up into the air, leaking and desperate for friction. The knuckles on his left hand had turned white where he gripped the edge of the couch, and he wanted desperately to let that hand travel to his cock, but refocused on the vibrator instead. Giving it a final push, the toy hit his prostate, and he came across his own lap and stomach, head thrown back and lips spewing a slur of, “Fuck, oh fuck. Holy- oh god, fuck!” quite a bit louder than he should've. Twisting the toy inside him, he rode out his high until he could see straight again and his member was beginning to return to normal size. Once he cleaned up himself, his toy, and his trailer, it was nearly one in the morning, and he opened the blind on the door to see a handwritten note taped to his window and facing in so he could read it. It said, simply: “Have fun? You know, I think my trailers a bit bigger, and better soundproofed. Maybe come by and try again later? -J.A.”

no explanation.

Muahaahaha thank you so much, darling :D  My icon is Adangi's drawing, called Hot, which it totally is :D