“Wanna cry out my name, Jensen? Wanna beg me to keep going? Beg me to stop?” Bracketed between Misha’s body and the tree, all he wants to do is fucking whine for Misha. He wants to go down on his knees, right this second, and lay his cheek against Misha’s belly, so Misha can run those mighty fingers against his scalp.
“Is that why you brought me here? Is that what you want?”
“I—” Jensen tries, his chest heaving, his breath hitching. What is he waiting for? Isn’t this what he wants, isn’t this why they’re right here, right now? Then why, God, why can’t he just say the stupid word?
This is the second chance he wanted so desperately and Misha is fucking handing it to him. Misha was there too, for what happened that Saturday night, what happened that Sunday morning and every single day since, and yet he’s here, all smiles and sexy, and suggestive. If Misha wants to try this again, why the hell can’t Jensen?
Misha tilts his head. “That’s what I want you to try and figure out.” The tip of his index finger slides down Jensen’s nose and traces Jensen’s lips. “Good boy.”
Every nerve in Jensen’s body is on fire. Every fiber of his being is alight. As Misha drops his hands and takes a step back, all Jensen wants to do is to reach out and hold onto Misha’s waist and never let him go. As Misha walks backward a few steps and turns on his heels, all Jensen wants is to slide down the tree, set his head on his knees and let the welling tears loose.
He doesn’t do any of that.
He sucks in a shaky breath, runs his hands through his hair and follows Misha.
Pining, Fluff, Light Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Getting Together, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk
sooo, have you already read my DCRB cockles fic inspired by @fspn-mhabusers awesome art? no? then I guess you really should, right now!
Here, have an unrelated, adorable gif of Misha being the most supportive husband ever as an incentive 😌