Ficmas: Post 1 (all J2 + a J2M, various ratings)

[obstinatrix]

So, I fail at conciseness. I had 42 Ficmas prompts to write, and, uh, since several of them were coming out at >1k, it occurred to me that trying to post them all on Christmas Eve was probably a really stupid idea, since there was no way they were going to all fit in one post. So, that said, here is Ficmas Post #1. I suppose this now means that all ficlets will be posted by December 24, rather than on it. :)

For allback2mine:

J2, in bed at someone's parents' house at midnight on Christmas Eve. A whispered conversation.

Jensen's in the middle of a very cogent and reasoned diatribe on how the graphics of Resident Evil have evolved over time when Jared stops him with a hand to his chest, a hissed "sssssssh!" Jensen closes his mouth mid-word, in time to hear the clock in the hall sounding out the hour.

"Midnight," Jared whispers, and grins, teeth flashing white in the dark. "Jensen! It's midnight!"

Jensen studies him for a long second, brows drawn together. "...uh-huh," he says, eventually, still unsure as to what he's meant to say to that. "So, anyway, back in the beginning the zombies --"

"Jensen!" Jared cuts in, the word a sibilant hiss in the dark. The next thing Jensen knows, there's a two-hundred pound weight on his chest, Jared's breath soft and whisky-scented on his cheek. "Dude, it's Christmas. You can't talk Christmas in with zombies?"

Oh, Jensen thinks, the corners of his mouth quirking up in understanding. "You can't?" he says, innocently.

"I don't think Santa likes 'em much," Jared says, and Jensen laughs, this slow warm feeling curling up inside of him, pressing against the inside of his ribs as Jared presses on the outside, pinning him down.

"You're such a kid."

"You love it," Jared accuses, still soft as if he's afraid of being overheard -- afraid his mom's about to come in and tell them to keep it down, her twenty-five year old son and his even older boyfriend. He's adorable, voice as warm as the mulled wine they drank too much of earlier, and Jensen doesn't have it in him to argue.

"Yeah," he admits, hand sliding up to grip the nape of Jared's neck and squeeze there, "I kinda do." He tugs, coaxing. "Hey, c'mere."

Jared lets himself be pulled, rubbing his mouth open over Jensen's. "Hmm?"

Jensen grins so Jared can feel it against his face, the rasp of late-in-the-day stubble. "Think Santa would like this better?"

"Bet he would," Jared says, one knee slipping between Jensen's. "Perv."

Jensen's laugh is swallowed up in Jared's mouth, hot and close. As a way to ring in Christmas, he thinks he could probably get used to this.



For big_heart_june:

stoned!boys and bonus shotgunning

For a guy his size, Jared is a freaking lightweight. Oh, sure he can take his alcohol, but when it comes to weed, one hit is enough to leave him loose-limbed and grinning. Throw in a couple more, and he'll be writhing around on the carpet, rubbing his cheek against the fibres like it's the best thing he's ever felt, and damn.

"Jensen," Jared says, fisting his hands in the rug and arching his back up off of it, "Jensen, man, look at the ceiling."

"You're fucking wasted," Jensen says placidly, but he looks. He looks, even though there's nothing on the ceiling but matt white paint, and that's how he knows he's pretty damn high himself. The carpet is scratchy against the bare nape of his neck; Jared's hair is tickling his cheekbone. He reaches across half-consciously to splay his hand on Jared's hip, and Jared, with the unselfconsciousness of the truly smashed, full-on moans like it's the best thing he's ever felt.

"Aw, man," Jared says, ecstatic, and tips his head back, rubbing himself catlike against as much of the rug as he can manage. "Jensen, dude." He takes a deep, slow breath that Jensen sees in his chest, expanding and then contracting again, and when he turns his head his pupils are blown wide. "Gimme another, come on."

The blunt's smouldered almost down to Jensen's fingertips, but there's still enough for a drag, and Jensen takes one without thinking, swallows the sour green tea flavour of the weed. He raises his eyebrows, offering, as he pulls himself up on one elbow, and Jared nods frantically, hand going up to cradle the back of Jensen's head. "Gimme," he repeats, and hauls Jensen in.

This, Jensen thinks, as he sets his lips to Jared's, is one of the best parts of getting high together. Jared's mouth opens easily to his, soft and sweet, and Jensen exhales, steady and careful, thumb on Jared's throat to track the way he swallows the smoke. When it's all gone, Jared's fingernails dig into the back of Jensen's neck for a second, as if he thinks he can coax out more, and then he moans again, hot against Jensen's mouth. Jensen laughs, although he doesn't know why. The carpet feels amazing, suddenly amazing against the place at his hip where his shirt has ridden up, and he squirms around a little, licks along the damp swell of Jared's lower lip. "That good?"

"Yeah." Jared nips back, clever little snatches of teeth. "Gimme more."

"That's all I've got," Jensen says, apologetic. He'd be more unhappy about it, but they're rubbing their mouths together slack and relentless, now, every nerve ending catching light at the touch, and it's kind of a distraction.

Jared shakes his head, laughing, and arches his back again. His cock is pushing out the seam of his jeans, Jensen realises dimly. His own palm has somehow made its way to Jared's inner thigh, thumb tracing the bulge of his erection. Inevitable, really, by this point, but still hot. God.

"Liar," Jared accuses. Jensen isn't sure it's an invitation to move his hand, but he does so anyway, and Jared hisses through his teeth, yessssss. "You're out of weed, you give me somethin' else, y'hear?"

"I hear," Jensen says. Over the smell of the weed, he can just scent Jared now, the sex-heavy smell of his cock, the sweat pricking under his arms. He shifts until he's more fully on top of Jared, leans up to taste the soft place below the bolt of his jaw. "I can do that. How's my dick suit you?" He scrubs out the last of the joint on the rug. It'll leave a little burn, but they've got plenty of those.

Underneath him, Jared laughs delightedly, fucks his hips up against Jensen's. "Suits me great," he says, and leans up again, licking into Jensen's mouth. He tastes like smoke, sweet scorched earth, and his hand has found its way to the small of Jensen's back, teasing up beneath his t-shirt.

Jensen can work with that.



For mistyzeo:

Jared can't go home for the holidays because of snow, so he crashes at Jensen's, and also there is bedsharing.

Snow isn't a problem Jared's used to having to contend with. It doesn't snow in San Antonio, and when the weather warnings up in Seattle continue to insist that all planes are grounded right up until the day of Jared's flight home for the holidays, he deals with it by kind of...blocking it out. It'll be okay. The snow is an illusion. If he keeps his eyes closed and doesn't look at what the boards say on the airport's website, the answer won't really exist.

"Schroedinger's airport," Jared explains hopefully. Jensen shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs.

"Sorry, dude, but the airport is definitely dead." He shrugs. "I checked."

Jensen is Jared's roommate. His hot, smart, fundamentally pretty decent roommate, even if he gets a little prickly when Jared makes a mess and then leaves it there. Jensen's from Texas too, but his parents moved cross country right before he started college. They're a four hour drive away, and if Jared can't get home, Jensen won't hear of him staying in the dorm on his own. "Jesus, Jared, what kind of asshole do you think I am?"

And Jensen's not an asshole, and he looks so hurt about it that Jared capitulates, because while it might be awkward imposing on someone else's folks for Christmas, it'd be far worse to be stranded on his own in the empty dorm, and have Jensen mad at him.

Which is how he ends up getting tentatively into Jensen's big squishy double bed in his childhood room, because there isn't another bed and the couch is out in the very public living room and Jensen won't hear of him sleeping on the floor.

"Seriously," Jensen grumbles, throwing the covers back, "you're stuck here because of severe weather, dude, and our heating's shitty at the best of times. You really wanna freeze to death?"

For a guy complaining about shitty heating, Jared thinks, Jensen certainly looks pink across the cheekbones. Pink and -- and gorgeous, and, oh, hell. "This is just an excuse to get me into your bed," Jared mutters, because he's embarrassed and he feels the sudden vicious urge to make sure Jensen's embarrassed too.

All the same, he's kind of surprised by how much the flush deepens. Jensen frowns, brows pulling together over the bridge of his perfect nose. "Maybe," he says, half-defiant, and pats the empty space in the bed. "Will you get you in here any quicker if I say yes?"

That pulls Jared up short, one hand frozen on the coverlet. Jensen is -- God. His heart is suddenly fluttering all stupid and hopeful in his throat, but it would be the worst thing ever to misconstrue that remark right now, with one knee in Jensen's bed and the rest of him about to be in there pronto. "I," he stammers. "Uh. Jen, I didn't mean --"

"Jared, for Chrissake," Jensen raps out, and then his hand curls around Jared's wrist, tugging tentatively. "If the question is, did I mean it, then, yeah, okay? Yeah, I kinda did. Not that, you know, I dragged you up here with the intention of thrusting myself upon your virtue or anything, but, uh, I've kinda had a crush on you since the second week of school, so if you wanted to get in here and make out with me, that'd be cool." He pauses, face suddenly going pinker as if his courage has just run out, and clears his throat delicately. "And if you don't, that's great too, and I promise not to molest you in the night, but either way, could you just get in? Because that draft is like ice, man."

Jared's feet are freezing, even while his face is suddenly red hot. He doesn't need asking twice. "You have a crush on me?"

Well, okay. Maybe he does. Jensen rolls his eyes. "You are such a fucking jock."

That does it. Jared dives into the bed and hauls the covers back up over both of them, shuffling in close to Jensen, and lifts one hand, leaves it hovering by Jensen's jaw, palm just barely touching. "I, uh. I didn't know." He hesitates a second. "Um. This is a 'yes, I wanna make out with you', by the way." He catches Jensen's eyes briefly. "And if you wanted, with the virtues and the thrusting upon them, that'd be cool too."

Jared's heart feels like it's trying to vomit itself out of his mouth, but Jensen just huffs out "oh, thank fuck," and then his hands are in Jared's hair, warm at the nape of his neck, and his pink mouth is coaxing Jared's open. The bed has this Jensen-shaped groove worn into the mattress, and Jared lets himself roll down into it until their bodies are tessellated, Jensen's bare feet brushing his ankles, Jensen's hips snugged up against his. It's not exactly the way Jared expected to be spending his Christmas Eve, but then again, he's starting to think it might actually be better than the alternative, especially once Jensen's tongue strokes over his soft palate and Jared's brain goes liquid.

Snow isn't a problem Jared's used to having to contend with, but if this is the outcome of a weather warning, maybe that's just because it isn't a problem at all.



For deirdre_c:

J2, Sex toys for Christmas and a happy new year. Except it didn't really come out remotely Christmassy.

They're barely through the bedroom door before Jensen's on his knees, the clean expanse of bed just feet away, but no, Jensen wants it here. It's got to be uncomfortable; they're gonna get carpet burn, but somehow Jared can't care about that when Jensen's like this, ass-up and pleading.

"C'mon," Jensen orders, "Jared, you bastard." He wriggles, like he's uncomfortable, like he's shifting against the smooth press of the plug inside him, and fuck. It's all Jared can do to breathe.

"Yeah," he manages, and drops to the floor. "God, yeah, I gotcha."

Fuck, he's been -- been thinking about this for hours, thinking about it all day, Jensen all spread and wet for him, ready to take Jared's dick whenever Jared was ready to give it to him. Jensen, in his neat suit and tie, shifting in his desk chair while the plug rubbed solidly all over his insides; Jensen's voice, breaking on the phone when Jared called him up to ask you wearin' it? Jared's cock's been aching so long it's become this muted throb, waiting on this moment, and now here they are, Jensen indecent in his dress shirt and boxers, and God. Jared takes hold of Jensen's shoulder, smooths his hand down the length of his back, curls it in the waistband of Jensen's boxers. Jensen hisses. "Jay, c'mon."

Jared breathes through his nose, slow and steady. "Sssh," he breathes, soothing himself as much as Jensen. Jensen's trembling, the more so as Jared peels his underwear down over his ass, down to his thighs. "Fuck, Jensen. Spread your -- spread your thighs for me, huh? Show me what you've been wearing all day, yeah?" He can hear his own voice petering out as he reaches back to palm his dick, unzip his pants. "Wanna see."

"Jesus." That's Jensen's broken sob, Jensen's back sinking into a deeper arch as he widens his knees, and God, Jared can barely comprehend Jensen doing this for him, overachieving, good ol' boy Jensen. Beautiful Jensen, ass in the air for Jared and a tell-tale rectangle of clear plastic sitting flat against his skin, behind the fat weight of his balls.

"Fuck." Jared almost trips over himself leaning in, and it isn't graceful, but he can't fucking help it; can hardly breathe with the urge to get his fingers on that little square, rub over the flat of it while he shoulders Jensen's thighs farther apart. Like this, he looks like porn, the edges of the plug just glistening faintly with lube, and Jared rubs at it the way he'd rub at a girl's clit, listens to the cut-off little sounds Jensen makes. "Fuck, Jensen. Can you feel that, babe?"

Jensen moans, muffled against the carpet. "Nnnngh. Yes."

Jared bites his lip, snaps the waistband of his boxers down over his balls with his free hand and ruts up against the back of Jensen's thigh. He's leaking, violent-hard, and the wetness leaves a sticky trail on Jensen's skin. "Feel good?" He gets his fingernails under the flat of the plug, enough to pull it out a little way, the narrow shining stretch of it, and slam it back in. "Like when I fuck you with it?"

Jensen moans again, this high whining sound, and that's -- yeah, that's all Jared can take. He can feel in Jensen's body that he's so turned on, anything would do, but the plug is nothing to the width of Jared's cock, can't reach the places Jared could reach inside of him. It's done its job, though, holding Jensen open, and when Jared works it jaggedly out, Jensen's pink and slick in its wake, spread and ready. Jared fights back a hot roil of want in his gut and pushes three fingers into him, easy. "God, Jen. Already open for me, aren't you? You want my dick?" He's just babbling now, reaching in and rubbing frantically at whatever he can reach, but Jensen's panting and fucking back onto it like he's too far gone even to mind the porno dialogue.

"Yeah," Jensen gets out, mashed against the back of his hand, and then he's shoving his hips back, canting them up further, and Jared straightens up, takes hold of Jensen squarely, rubs the wet tip of his dick against his hole. "Yeah, Jared, fuck, come on --" He rocks back again, hard, and that's it, enough to swallow the first couple inches of Jared's dick, so fucking easy it's overwhelming.

"Nnngh," Jared manages, too twisted up for words, and then he's punching in further, sliding home, all the fucking way. His free hand slides around Jensen's waist, cradles the spine of his cock, and Jensen is wet, drooling strings of precome over the backs of Jared's fingers as Jared fucks into him in speeding thrusts. It takes longer than this, usually, to get Jensen so full of cock; Jared's big and Jensen's tight and he has to work his way in, but like this, Jensen spread and ready for him, open for his dick --

"Jared," Jensen gasps out, one hand flailing out behind him to grab at Jared's thigh, pull him firmly in, "Jared, Christ --"

Jared's fingers bite into the flesh of Jensen's hip as he works, face all mashed in the sweaty dip between Jensen's shoulderblades, biting there mindlessly. "Yeah," he pants, "love this, don't you? Wearin' that thing for me all day like I said, keepin' you open, ready for my dick?"

"Jared, fuck," Jensen spits, and then Jared can feel him tensing up around his cock, rhythm of his hips into Jared's hand going jagged as he comes in hard spurts all over the carpet. Usually, Jensen would mind about that, would be all worried about the carpet, but this isn't, this isn't that Jensen, not quite. This is Jensen, who spent all day turned on because Jared asked him to; Jensen who's taking Jared's dick on the fucking floor, and that's -- shit. Jared closes his teeth over Jensen's shoulderblade hard enough to hurt as he empties into him, wet and endless.

When they've both stilled, he's careful to pull out. His knees are beginning to ache, and God knows Jensen must be in worse condition, palms and knees carpet burned. In front of him, Jensen's still slumped, shoulders down, hole well-fucked and leaking Jared, leaking --

The plug is still where Jared tossed it, on top of the discarded twist of his own yesterday's shirt. He reaches for it before he can talk himself out of it; trails it up the back of Jensen's thigh so Jensen can feel, so Jensen can stop him, but Jensen just tenses and shivers a little, like aftershock.

"Jensen?" Jared whispers. He rubs the still-slick tip of the plug against Jensen's fucked-open hole, not a demand, but an offer. "Can I --?"

"Yeah." Jensen twists to look at him, face flushed, eyes glittering green. "Yeah, do it. Plug me up for later."

Jared swallows. His cock, not knowing when it's beat, gives a valiant twitch as he closes his eyes and works the plug back in, feels it settle into place, plugging all his come up in Jensen, keeping him full, keeping him ready for Jared's dick. Ready for next time.



For wendy:

Jensen gives Jared handcuffs for Christmas.

"So," Jensen says. He looks a little sheepish, but there's defiance under it, like he's ready to defend his suggestion if Jared dares to laugh at it. "Uh. Merry Christmas."

Jared looks from Jensen to the handcuffs -- proper, sturdy things, none of that fluffy crap -- and back to Jensen. And he's, wow, he is not laughing. He swallows, hard, like that'll do anything about the way his dick is fattening up in his jeans, and says, "God. Um." The handcuffs are cold against his palms when he reaches into the box and lifts them, jangles them in his hand. "There a special reason you saved these for tonight?"

Jensen grins hotly, relieved, and Jared knows he's said the right thing. "Didn't think your parents would appreciate them," he says. "But I thought you might."

Jared looks back down at the handcuffs. Jensen's voice has that edge to it, that fuck me timbre, and God, he's right. Jared could appreciate all hell out of these. He takes a moment to picture it: Jensen with both arms above his head, cuffed to the headboard while Jared fucks him stupid; Jensen with his hands fastened low at the small of his back while Jared eats him out messily from behind. "Fuck," Jared says, soft. "For you, right?" He holds the cuffs up a little. "Um. On you?" he clarifies, and Jensen's mouth goes slack.

"Yeah," he manages, voice thin. "Yeah, I thought -- I like it when you, uh. Both wrists over my head, y'know." He's blushing, the pink of it crawling down beneath the collar of his shirt, but somehow it's just making Jared harder, hearing him stumble through this, through what he wants. Hearing him know what he wants, even if it's hard to say.

"I know," Jared cuts in, taking pity on him. He licks his lips, reflexive. "Thought about it."

Jensen's eyes go dark. "Yeah?"

Jared nods shortly. The handcuffs snap open easily in his hand, snick, and the sound makes his belly swoop with want. "Yeah. You like it so much when I hold you down, I thought you might like to be tied to something --" he bites his lip -- "cuffed to something, so you couldn't move." Jared's mostly hard now, blood-hot, just talking about it. "So I could do anything I liked to you."

"Oh, Jesus." Jensen's words are little more than this quiet whine of want, and that's enough to bolster Jared's courage, make him shift forward on the bed on his knees so Jensen has to back up, up toward the headboard.

"Take your clothes off," Jared says, and pulls the chain of the cuffs taut with a click.

Jensen does it. Just like that, he just fuckin' does it, because Jared asked him to, scrambling to pull his shirt off over his head, the freckles standing out stark against the pink that's high on his cheekbones. He fumbles a little with his zipper, has to pump his hips up to get his boxers off over the jut of his cock, and, Christ, he's hard. The whole crown of him is smeared with precome, like he's been thinking about this for a while -- like he's been getting off on the thought of it, Jared ordering him around, cuffing him up, taking him. "God," Jared says, wonderingly, "you're ready for this, aren't you?"

Jensen nods tightly. He's still pink, still blushing everywhere, but his thighs have fallen open now, showing the dark place between, but it's like the flush has become something else now, this burn of intent coursing through him everywhere. He holds out his arms, wrists crossed, towards Jared. "Please."

The sound of it, the clear submission in it, hits Jared like a punch. They've played with this before, the pinning-down and the ordering and the powerplay, but nothing like this, and seeing Jensen like this is doing things to Jared's insides. He grabs hold of both Jensen's wrists, one-handed, and pushes them up over his head, back against the cool metal of the headboard. Jensen makes this whimpering sound, breathes out hard when Jared crowds him in, and it's -- God. Jared fumbles with the cuffs; snaps the one around Jensen's wrist and then hooks the linking chain around the headboard before he closes the other. Jensen's eyes fall closed, hips punching up reflexively, and Jared has to grip at his dick just to rein himself in at the sight of it, Jensen fucking chained like that, loving it.

"God, Jen," Jared breathes. He sits back on his heels, and for a long second, just -- looks. "Look so fucking good, man."

"Shit." Jensen twists, not like he wants to get away, but just because he can, just to test it. Just to know. It makes the muscles of his upper arms, his chest, stand out in sharp relief, and Jared's struck all over again by the picture he makes, cock fat and red against his belly, drooling a shiny smear of precome on his skin. His own shirt is starting to stick uncomfortably to his back, and he wrestles it over his head, kicks off his pants without taking his eyes off Jensen.

"Wanna fuck you," Jared says, low. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask, can I fuck you, will you let me, do you want?, but then he sees the heat flash dark in Jensen's eyes in the second before they close again, Jensen's thighs twitching a little wider, and he remembers himself in time. "Gonna fuck you, Jensen, just like that."

Jensen moans, hips lifting, back arching, and as far as Jared's concerned, that's it. He leans in, hooks his arms under Jensen's knees, and lifts him, no ceremony, just shoves his knees up and back to his chest, because he can, because Jensen can't stop him. Jensen's kinda tied up, thrashing in the cuffs a little as Jared leans down and licks at him dirtily, and God, it's good. Jared works his tongue in quick little circles, licks Jensen open till he's moaning and twitching against Jared's mouth; sucks at his rim till he can fuck his tongue inside, and all the time Jensen's jerking and moaning and drooling precome everywhere. Jensen likes this. He's always liked it, but Ordinary Jensen can sometimes get a little impatient with it, a little embarrassed. Ordinary Jensen would probably have set his hands on Jared's head by now, tugged him up to suck at his dick or just get on and fuck him. But this is Cuffed Jensen, Jensen who's nothing but this writhing, incapacitated spread of golden skin under Jared's mouth, under his hands. This Jensen just takes it, because there's nothing else he can do. Because it's not his place to give Jared orders, and that -- fuck. Jared's stomach clenches hotly at the thought, cock jerking, and he grinds down against the mattress as he brings up two fingers to push into Jensen alongside his tongue, work him open. Nice and slow.

"Ssssh," he murmurs, as Jensen rolls his head and moans. He's two knuckles in, twisting his fingers expertly, and Jensen's punching his hips and jerking in a way that Jared knows means hurry the fuck up, but he doesn't say it. And he won't. Jared knows he won't. And that's the joy. Jensen's in the cuffs, here. Jared's in charge. "Ssssh, Jen, hey, gonna get you opened up for me, baby. Gonna get you all --" he leans in, spits in the dark space between his spread fingers "-- all wet for me." He traces his tongue around Jensen's rim where it's taut, pink and slick and tight. "Nice and slow."

Jensen sobs, grinding his ass up against Jared's mouth. It's not an argument. Jared's fairly sure he isn't going to get one.

As far as Christmas presents go, he could have done worse.



For 13chapters:

J2M porn that is mostly about Jared's dick.

So Misha's favorite part of Jared is his dick. No, really. Jensen makes noises about his hair (which, sure, is great for pulling when Misha's impaled on his dick) and his ass (which is tight and smooth and works interestingly under Misha's hands when Jared's dick is shoved up in him) and his megawatt smile ("Hey, I'm Jared and I have great teeth. Wanna sit on my dick?"). But mostly, Misha thinks Jensen is just being politically correct, because he gets just as breathless and slack-mouthed as Misha does when they've got Jared pinned between them, the fat head of his cock drooling slick between their mouths. Jared is an amazing guy in about as many ways as he's a truly irritating one, but the most amazing thing about him is his dick.

Misha's never considered himself a size queen, but hell, for Jared he so, so is. Get Jared's massive hand cradling the back of his head, Jared's massive dick punching its way wetly to the back of his throat, and Misha is fucking gone. Never mind the little sounds Jared makes when Jensen's shouldered right in between them, mouthing at Jared's balls, crooking his fingers lower. Or the way Jared's back arches when they've gotten him all wet and ready between them, and Jensen's riding Jared's face while Misha shoves down onto him, takes him in, forcing the fat head of Jared's cock past his body's resistance. There always is that resistance, stupid fucking body, because Jared is just that big, but once he's in -- Jesus. Misha feels like he could come on that alone, in seconds; the way Jared fills him up so far he can almost taste it, scraping across every nerve ending Misha has with every roll of his hips. With anyone else, Misha'd be stuck doing all the work in this position, but riding Jared -- Jared's got those hands, thumbs over Misha's hipbones, taking all his weight while he works him up and down on his dick, and all Misha has to do is leak and shiver and make noises he'll deny afterwards. Jared's a machine, Jensen's dick pistoning slickly in and out of his mouth while Jared's own hips punch upward into Misha, and it's so good Misha sometimes can't understand why they haven't all been doing this from the second they met.

Jared groans around Jensen's dick, always, these wet, muffled moans like he's indecently, recklessly into it, and Misha's usually strung out far enough by that point to come just from the reverberations, shooting in white spurts over Jared's abs, his smooth chest. Jared won't stop, ribs still heaving with his breaths as he fucks up into Misha, swallows Jensen's cock, but that's okay. Jared may have stamina, but so does Misha. It's a rare night when he doesn't get to two orgasms with Jared's dick crammed up in him; so, yeah. As far as Misha's concerned, Jensen can keep Jared's goddamn smile. His mouth looks better with Jensen's dick in it anyway.