FIC: That Holy Shape
Jan. 12th, 2011 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nilchanceTitle: That Holy Shape
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Misha Collins/JDM, with JA on the side
A/N: Sequel to If Bird or Devil. Jeff is a dom, Misha is his boy, Jensen is complicated.hederahelix gets credit for giving me the idea for this chapter many moons ago and also for the last line.
Jensen is not the easiest person to tuck into bed.
Jeff tries anyway.
“Morgan,” Jensen growls, squirming, all elbows. Up close, because Jeff had to help him stumble from playroom to bed, his skin still smells like sex and coconut oil. That isn‘t helping Jeff to convince his dick that this should be about as sexy as a car accident. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“I know that, swe--” Jeff catches the murder in Jensen’s eyes and corrects, “Jen. I usually stick around for aftercare, that’s all.”
If Jensen was a cat, his ears would be flat against his skull. He swats at Jeff’s hands, grabbing the sheets and yanking them up to his collarbone. Jeff squashes the hysterical urge to laugh; he can’t blame Jensen for being body-shy after what just happened.
Safe: not so much. Sane: fucking ha. Consensual: question mark.
Jensen’s color is still riding high in his face, in his throat, the soft places beneath his jaw. His pupils are still blown, and oh god, Jeff wants to put his hands on Jensen.
“We are not cuddling,” Jensen says, grim as Eastwood.
Jeff holds his hands up. “I wasn’t going to suggest it.”
That gets him an expression of squint-eyed suspicion. It feels like whatever ground they gained, precious little steps, is gone again.
This isn’t going to work, Jeff thinks. Legion or not, murders or not, Jeff can’t be the guy whose bottom doesn’t trust him. Whose bottom shouldn’t trust him, considering how many cues Jeff missed. It isn’t because of mixed signals, a bad scene-- Jeff’s been at kink long enough to have his share of those. No. He should’ve seen how far Jensen was being pushed before he was that desperate, asking Jeff for things because he was starving instead of because of any desire.
No, even that’s not the ugly truth. The truth is, Jeff got off on seeing Jensen lose control. On feeling his body shake. On gripping his throat, feeling the strength in his corded tendons and the hitch of his breathing.
Jeff wants to roll him on his belly now. Rub his scent on Jensen’s skin. Push his thighs open and make himself comfortable, eat Jensen out for a little while until he’s grinding on the sheets, panting for it, see if he’ll come again, see if he’ll beg for real. Let Misha feed him his cock.
Misha.
Jeff’s restless, drumming fingers go still.
Yeah. They’ll have to figure out something else. Jeff’s got the words in his mouth, ready to say. He’s even got a few names, a shortlist of good tops, and okay, Jeff doesn’t like any other tops enough that he’d normally pass off a find like Jensen, and okay, those other tops don’t have the Oracle in their bed, but--
Jensen drops his eyes to the bedspread and mutters, “’m sorry.” It’s the first time Jeff hears the Texas in Jensen’s voice.
Jeff blinks, momentarily gobsmacked.
Apparently Jensen takes his surprise for anger, because he hunches in on himself. It reminds Jeff of early Misha, and he wonders who taught Jensen that sorry wasn‘t good enough. “I’m sorry,” Jensen repeats, enunciating more clearly. “That shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t in the contract.”
It figures that Jensen would apologize for that and not for punching Jeff twice. Jeff says, “You didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“I’ll explain it to the Or--” Jensen sets his jaw. “To Misha. If you’d like. It won‘t happen again.”
The possessive toppy bastard in Jeff is pleased that Jensen thinks there’ll be an again, that he didn’t ask for a referral. Jeff squashes the inappropriate pleasure as much as he can.
“It’s okay. I‘ll tell him.” Giving Jensen time to balk, Jeff raises his hand to stroke Jensen’s hair up into spikes. “Thanks, though.”
Jensen watches him, narrow-eyed, but doesn’t jerk away. It’s not as bad as all that, then. “I haven’t changed my mind about the cuddling.”
“I figured.” Jeff takes his hand back before Jensen decides to bite off a finger. “You crash here for a few, okay? I’m going to get you some orange juice.”
Jensen raises his eyebrows. “Like donating blood? I didn‘t do anything strenuous.”
It’s tempting to say that Jensen donated something, but Jeff restrains himself. “It’s standard procedure. Don‘t Batman your way out the window.”
Jensen lays his head back against the headboard, an imitation of ease by someone who’d never actually tried it. His attention stays in constant motion. “Bring me back that knife.”
Despite Jensen’s nonchalance, Jeff notices that he doesn’t make any promises about staying put.
***
When Jeff gets to the living room, Misha’s halfway through his book. Bisou has curled herself in a tight ball as close as the space heater as she could without scorching fur. Misha doesn’t look up at Jeff‘s footsteps. “Oh, hey. Done already? What were those thumps?”
Moving gingerly, since his back got bounced off the bedroom floor, Jeff perches on the arm of the couch. He passes his hand between Misha and the book; Misha frowns up at him. “I was reading that.”
Jeff turns the book right side up. “That might help.”
Misha looks at the book, then at Jeff again. “As a matter of fact, it’s a book on how to become an expert at reading upside down.”
“I love it when you’re nosy.”
“I prefer observant.” Setting the book aside, Misha asks, “Do you need an ice pack?”
Jeff hehs. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“I know my bruises,” Misha says dryly, and gentles when Jeff winces on his behalf. He stands. “You sit, you big strong man, and I’ll go fetch you a steak to put on your black eye.”
“I need to get Jensen orange juice--”
“Then I’ll bring that, too.”
Jeff takes the hint and stays put, sheepishly taking the ice and the glass of juice when Misha returns with them. Part of him wants to take the excuse of Jensen to avoid telling Misha that he fucked up. That’d be the easy thing.
Misha deserves better from him.
He holds out an arm, his back already twanging pain up to his neck, and Misha snuggles against him. Jeff rests his cheek against Misha’s head. “I think you’d call that ‘epic fail’.”
“How Catholic.“ Despite using the bland voice he reserves for idiots, Misha rubs Jeff’s belly in a sympathetic sort of way. “You’re supposed to flog other people, not yourself.”
“I deserve it. I missed every signal he sent out, I pushed him too far.” Jeff swallows. “He was shivering. I didn’t notice how close he was.”
Misha goes still, listening, but he doesn’t push away from Jeff. If anything, he leans closer. When he speaks, his voice sounds hoarse. “Then what?”
It’s not anger in Misha’s voice.
Oh.
“Then I told him to jerk himself off, and I grabbed his throat.” Jeff can hear the answering growl in his own voice, knows he probably shouldn’t be getting off on this, but fuck. “And he came. I didn’t even really touch him.”
Misha sighs like he’s about to be martyred. Jeff can’t help it, he squeezes him until Misha makes an indignant noise.
“You’re amazing,” Jeff tells him. “You are completely wonderful and I must’ve saved a busload of orphans in a past life.”
Humming an agreement, Misha squirms far enough away to look at Jeff. “You thought I’d be jealous? After I told you to pick up a boy and fuck him, after we both mauled him on Christmas Eve and I watched you draw up his contract and all that, now you thought I was going to come down with a case of 72 hour monogamy?”
Well, when he put it that way. “We hadn’t talked about it first.”
“He slept in our bed. Even Jeremy doesn’t sleep in our bed, and you love him a lot.” Misha shrugs, then slides his hand up Jeff’s thigh. “It’s okay. It’s okay that you like him. I like him, too. If I can live with Bisou, I can live with Jensen; he bathes himself and doesn’t beg at the table.”
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled by the comparison.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t beg yet.” Misha‘s smile has sharp edges. “Are you looking forward to teaching him as much as I am?”
Author:
nilchanceRating: Adult
Pairing: Misha Collins/JDM, with JA on the side
A/N: Sequel to If Bird or Devil. Jeff is a dom, Misha is his boy, Jensen is complicated.
hederahelix gets credit for giving me the idea for this chapter many moons ago and also for the last line. Jensen is not the easiest person to tuck into bed.
Jeff tries anyway.
“Morgan,” Jensen growls, squirming, all elbows. Up close, because Jeff had to help him stumble from playroom to bed, his skin still smells like sex and coconut oil. That isn‘t helping Jeff to convince his dick that this should be about as sexy as a car accident. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“I know that, swe--” Jeff catches the murder in Jensen’s eyes and corrects, “Jen. I usually stick around for aftercare, that’s all.”
If Jensen was a cat, his ears would be flat against his skull. He swats at Jeff’s hands, grabbing the sheets and yanking them up to his collarbone. Jeff squashes the hysterical urge to laugh; he can’t blame Jensen for being body-shy after what just happened.
Safe: not so much. Sane: fucking ha. Consensual: question mark.
Jensen’s color is still riding high in his face, in his throat, the soft places beneath his jaw. His pupils are still blown, and oh god, Jeff wants to put his hands on Jensen.
“We are not cuddling,” Jensen says, grim as Eastwood.
Jeff holds his hands up. “I wasn’t going to suggest it.”
That gets him an expression of squint-eyed suspicion. It feels like whatever ground they gained, precious little steps, is gone again.
This isn’t going to work, Jeff thinks. Legion or not, murders or not, Jeff can’t be the guy whose bottom doesn’t trust him. Whose bottom shouldn’t trust him, considering how many cues Jeff missed. It isn’t because of mixed signals, a bad scene-- Jeff’s been at kink long enough to have his share of those. No. He should’ve seen how far Jensen was being pushed before he was that desperate, asking Jeff for things because he was starving instead of because of any desire.
No, even that’s not the ugly truth. The truth is, Jeff got off on seeing Jensen lose control. On feeling his body shake. On gripping his throat, feeling the strength in his corded tendons and the hitch of his breathing.
Jeff wants to roll him on his belly now. Rub his scent on Jensen’s skin. Push his thighs open and make himself comfortable, eat Jensen out for a little while until he’s grinding on the sheets, panting for it, see if he’ll come again, see if he’ll beg for real. Let Misha feed him his cock.
Misha.
Jeff’s restless, drumming fingers go still.
Yeah. They’ll have to figure out something else. Jeff’s got the words in his mouth, ready to say. He’s even got a few names, a shortlist of good tops, and okay, Jeff doesn’t like any other tops enough that he’d normally pass off a find like Jensen, and okay, those other tops don’t have the Oracle in their bed, but--
Jensen drops his eyes to the bedspread and mutters, “’m sorry.” It’s the first time Jeff hears the Texas in Jensen’s voice.
Jeff blinks, momentarily gobsmacked.
Apparently Jensen takes his surprise for anger, because he hunches in on himself. It reminds Jeff of early Misha, and he wonders who taught Jensen that sorry wasn‘t good enough. “I’m sorry,” Jensen repeats, enunciating more clearly. “That shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t in the contract.”
It figures that Jensen would apologize for that and not for punching Jeff twice. Jeff says, “You didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“I’ll explain it to the Or--” Jensen sets his jaw. “To Misha. If you’d like. It won‘t happen again.”
The possessive toppy bastard in Jeff is pleased that Jensen thinks there’ll be an again, that he didn’t ask for a referral. Jeff squashes the inappropriate pleasure as much as he can.
“It’s okay. I‘ll tell him.” Giving Jensen time to balk, Jeff raises his hand to stroke Jensen’s hair up into spikes. “Thanks, though.”
Jensen watches him, narrow-eyed, but doesn’t jerk away. It’s not as bad as all that, then. “I haven’t changed my mind about the cuddling.”
“I figured.” Jeff takes his hand back before Jensen decides to bite off a finger. “You crash here for a few, okay? I’m going to get you some orange juice.”
Jensen raises his eyebrows. “Like donating blood? I didn‘t do anything strenuous.”
It’s tempting to say that Jensen donated something, but Jeff restrains himself. “It’s standard procedure. Don‘t Batman your way out the window.”
Jensen lays his head back against the headboard, an imitation of ease by someone who’d never actually tried it. His attention stays in constant motion. “Bring me back that knife.”
Despite Jensen’s nonchalance, Jeff notices that he doesn’t make any promises about staying put.
***
When Jeff gets to the living room, Misha’s halfway through his book. Bisou has curled herself in a tight ball as close as the space heater as she could without scorching fur. Misha doesn’t look up at Jeff‘s footsteps. “Oh, hey. Done already? What were those thumps?”
Moving gingerly, since his back got bounced off the bedroom floor, Jeff perches on the arm of the couch. He passes his hand between Misha and the book; Misha frowns up at him. “I was reading that.”
Jeff turns the book right side up. “That might help.”
Misha looks at the book, then at Jeff again. “As a matter of fact, it’s a book on how to become an expert at reading upside down.”
“I love it when you’re nosy.”
“I prefer observant.” Setting the book aside, Misha asks, “Do you need an ice pack?”
Jeff hehs. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“I know my bruises,” Misha says dryly, and gentles when Jeff winces on his behalf. He stands. “You sit, you big strong man, and I’ll go fetch you a steak to put on your black eye.”
“I need to get Jensen orange juice--”
“Then I’ll bring that, too.”
Jeff takes the hint and stays put, sheepishly taking the ice and the glass of juice when Misha returns with them. Part of him wants to take the excuse of Jensen to avoid telling Misha that he fucked up. That’d be the easy thing.
Misha deserves better from him.
He holds out an arm, his back already twanging pain up to his neck, and Misha snuggles against him. Jeff rests his cheek against Misha’s head. “I think you’d call that ‘epic fail’.”
“How Catholic.“ Despite using the bland voice he reserves for idiots, Misha rubs Jeff’s belly in a sympathetic sort of way. “You’re supposed to flog other people, not yourself.”
“I deserve it. I missed every signal he sent out, I pushed him too far.” Jeff swallows. “He was shivering. I didn’t notice how close he was.”
Misha goes still, listening, but he doesn’t push away from Jeff. If anything, he leans closer. When he speaks, his voice sounds hoarse. “Then what?”
It’s not anger in Misha’s voice.
Oh.
“Then I told him to jerk himself off, and I grabbed his throat.” Jeff can hear the answering growl in his own voice, knows he probably shouldn’t be getting off on this, but fuck. “And he came. I didn’t even really touch him.”
Misha sighs like he’s about to be martyred. Jeff can’t help it, he squeezes him until Misha makes an indignant noise.
“You’re amazing,” Jeff tells him. “You are completely wonderful and I must’ve saved a busload of orphans in a past life.”
Humming an agreement, Misha squirms far enough away to look at Jeff. “You thought I’d be jealous? After I told you to pick up a boy and fuck him, after we both mauled him on Christmas Eve and I watched you draw up his contract and all that, now you thought I was going to come down with a case of 72 hour monogamy?”
Well, when he put it that way. “We hadn’t talked about it first.”
“He slept in our bed. Even Jeremy doesn’t sleep in our bed, and you love him a lot.” Misha shrugs, then slides his hand up Jeff’s thigh. “It’s okay. It’s okay that you like him. I like him, too. If I can live with Bisou, I can live with Jensen; he bathes himself and doesn’t beg at the table.”
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled by the comparison.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t beg yet.” Misha‘s smile has sharp edges. “Are you looking forward to teaching him as much as I am?”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 10:28 pm (UTC)Jensen, silly boy, you're supposed to melt into the aftercare in boneless bliss, not snarl through it...
Misha is ridiculously wonderful. I think Jeff just about deserves him, though.
“Or maybe he just doesn’t beg yet.” Misha‘s smile has sharp edges. “Are you looking forward to teaching him as much as I am?”
OMFG, that's delicious. Want it so bad I can taste it. Unf. *definitely begs*
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 02:37 am (UTC)Thank you! Also, icon unf.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 11:00 pm (UTC)YES.
*hugs self*
I do adore this 'verse. I'm not convinced i haven't missed some. I must go back and reread! :)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 11:28 pm (UTC)I think this sums up everything I love about Misha and Jeff in one little chunk. The trust they have, the way they understand each other, the history and the knowing and the teasing and the sharing and the loving. Just. Yes. Please. Forever and ever.
Also? *happy sigh* Yay Raven-verse.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 11:58 pm (UTC)Misha looks at the book, then at Jeff again. “As a matter of fact, it’s a book on how to become an expert at reading upside down.”
*glee* And I'll add a thank-you to hederahelix for that last line, because hiiiii.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 01:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 06:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 09:52 am (UTC)Anyway, I'd secretly been stalking this fic, hoping for an update. This makes my night!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 09:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 08:46 pm (UTC)Thank you. *smoosh*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-13 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-14 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-14 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-14 01:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-15 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-31 06:20 am (UTC)What a handful that Jensen is. It's going to take a f'ton of training to take that boy out in public in Jeff's circles. Yum.
Please carry on...
no subject
Date: 2011-03-01 03:09 am (UTC)