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The Pie Thing

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It was a good thing they were wrapping up for the end of the day -- it was late, everyone was tired and a bit sore. And Misha was covered in pie.


Cream pie.


Dripping off his face and down his neck, settling into the hollow of his collarbone.


And Jared had… No. Jensen wasn’t going to think about that. Nevermind what Jared did. He just wanted to get home. He wanted to get Misha home.


“Alright guys, that’s a wrap. Everyone back here at 6am,” Misha called out, looking ridiculous, blinking globs of whipped cream out of his big blue eyes.


Jensen watched with a heated prickle under his skin as Jared brought over a towel and draped it over Misha’s head, touching Misha’s hair and shoulders in the process. He didn’t mean to walk over, to interfere, but before he even knew what he was doing, his feet had started to move. “I think you’ve done enough for one day, Jared. Misha needs a shower.”


“Yeah, I definitely do,” Misha agreed, rubbing the towel over his hair and down his face, wiping away most of the sticky sweet. “I feel like I’m gonna attract ants.”


“That’s about the only thing you could attract!” Jared laughed, punching Misha in the arm.


And on any other day, at any other time, Jensen would have smiled, would have laughed right along with the joke. But right now he really didn’t find it to be so funny. Right now he just wanted to get Misha away -- away from Jared and his giant paws, and his stupid jokes, and his licking!


Jensen cleared his throat in an effort to clear and refocus his head. He grabbed Misha by the elbow. “C’mon, you need to get cleaned up. I can tell you from experience, that stuff is gonna feel really uncomfortable in a little while.”


He pulled at Misha’s arm until Misha began to walk with him. “Oh. Ok. Night guys!” he called over his shoulder.


Jensen listened to the calls goodnight behind them, but he didn’t look back.






“So…” Jensen really didn’t want to answer. In fact he really didn’t want to talk at all. Misha was sitting across from him in the car with Jared’s towel still wrapped around his shoulders. And Jensen really was trying not to think about that.


“Is there a reason why I couldn’t shower in my trailer?” Misha asked.


“You’re gonna wanna scrub off good,” Jen answered more tersely than he meant to. “The shower in the trailer is pretty limited. The one at home will be better.”


“Ah.” Misha nodded slowly, carefully. “And is that all?”








“Of course that’s all. What else would there be?” Jensen all but growled.


“Do you know you’re gnashing your teeth?” Misha countered.


“Well, excuse me for trying to be thoughtful!” Jensen exclaimed. He was a dick. He was being a dick and he knew it, but his skin felt too tight and he couldn’t get the image of Jared’s tongue on Misha’s skin out of his head.


Jared’s tongue. On Misha’s skin.


On his mouth.


It had only been on the corner, and Jensen knew Jared hadn’t even meant for that to happen. But it did happen. And now Jensen was being a dick about it. And Misha was still sticky and covered in pie, and sitting across the car from him resolutely looking out the window.



The car had barely come to a stop before Misha had his seatbelt off and the door unlocked.


“Whoa! Hey, where are you going?”


“To get that shower you keep telling me I need,” Misha replied, closing the car door and heading up the sidewalk to the house, not waiting on Jensen to catch up. “I would ask if you want to join me, but I get the feeling you really don’t.”


Jensen watched Misha pull his keys from his pocket and unlock the front door, then he watched Misha disappear behind the front door. And then he leaned forward and banged his head on the steering wheel of his car and chided himself for his stupidity.


Jensen decided to give himself, and Misha, a few minutes before going inside. He knew he needed to cool down. He knew he was being ridiculous. It had been nothing more than a prank, one which he normally would have been all for. But Jared had been awfully heavy-handed with the pranks on Misha this week, monopolizing his time, and though he knew Misha was taking it all in stride, he could also see where Misha was getting a little tired.


So sue him, he could be a little protective. Dean had to get it from somewhere.


But then Jared had to go and lick him. He licked him! And for a moment even Misha had looked stunned. Jared had licked him not once, but twice. And right on the corner of his mouth!


Yeah, it was irrational, but Jensen had seen red after that. He’d felt jealous and possessive, and it made him act like a dick, and really, all he wanted right now was to go climb into the shower with Misha and fuck him until they both saw stars.


Until he felt like Misha was just his again.


Jensen climbed out of the car and quietly walked into the house. He made a pit stop in the bedroom to remove his clothes and gather supplies; once he was in the shower with Misha, he didn’t want to have to leave it for anything until they were completely finished.


He opened the bathroom door to warm clouds of billowing steam. He could see Misha’s silhouette against the glass shower doors; his head was hung down in the spray, his shoulders slumped forward.  Jensen felt both a thrill and a pang run through him. He just needed to feel Misha’s body pressed up against his own, held tight in his arms.


He opened the shower door and Misha jumped. “Jensen!”


“You expecting someone else?”


“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”


Jensen didn’t know what to say to that so he just stepped into the shower behind Misha and wrapped his arms tightly around his middle. Misha didn’t say anything and Jensen was glad for that. He thought they were maybe past those kinds of words right now anyway.


Jensen dropped kisses across the back of Misha’s tense shoulders, gently at first, and then harder, and harder, until he was sucking bruises into the skin. Misha still didn’t speak but he tipped his head, offering his neck, and Jensen took it. Normally they had to be careful about leaving marks, but Misha wasn’t actually in the episode he was directing so it wouldn’t matter this week. Jensen took full advantage of that knowledge. He sucked and bit up the side of Misha’s neck, leaving pretty red marks and dark purple love bites.


His marks. His.


Right where everybody could see them.


The thought of that made Jensen’s cock swell quickly and he pressed himself against Misha’s backside, rubbing against the cleft of his ass. His arms and hands held Misha’s body so tightly, keeping him close, without an inch of space in between them.


Misha began to whine and rock back against the contact, and Jensen felt his lips pull into a smug smile. Misha gave so much of himself to others, wore his heart on his sleeve; but Jared, the crew, the rest of the cast and the fans, no one besides Jensen got to see this.


And it made Jensen smug. And proud. And yes, sometimes possessive and jealous.


Jensen slid his hand around Misha’s water-slick hip to curl around his cock, he stroked it a couple of times, squeezing lightly just under the head. He rocked his hips hard up into Misha’s ass, grinding against him, letting his own cock glide against the cleft. “Can I fuck you?”


Misha groaned.


“I wanna fuck you right here,” Jensen told him, sucking his earlobe into his mouth briefly. “I wanna bend you over right here and make you come all over the wall.” Jensen wasn’t normally into such dirty talk, if anything that was usually more Misha’s thing, but he felt wilder than normal, rougher.


He wanted to make a claiming and he wanted Misha to know exactly what it was.


Misha braced his hands on the tile in front of him and bent forward at the waist, offering himself, his body, to Jensen. Offering his forgiveness and understanding.


Jensen could have teared up if the picture presented before him hadn’t made him start salivating.


He dropped to his knees and spread Misha’s cheeks. If anyone was going to run their tongue over Misha’s body, it was going to be him. He dove right in, licking a broad stripe right over Misha’s hole, making him gasp and flail a bit at the tile. Misha tasted like soap and musk and skin.


He tasted like Misha. All Misha. And all his.


Jensen licked around and around the entrance in broad stripes, short flicks, hard swipes and light, teasing kitten licks until the muscle was loose and relaxed; and then he pointed his tongue and dipped deep inside. Misha gave a loud cry and hearing that voice, knowing it moaned and sighed for him, made Jensen’s heart, and nearly his loins, burst. But there was still so much more to do.


Reluctantly he pulled away, rose to his feet, and looked around for the lube he brought into the bathroom. Upon locating it, Jensen quickly coated his fingers. When Misha bottomed he never wanted too much prep; he liked being able to feel the slight burn as he was being penetrated. He liked knowing Jensen had been there. Jensen would be sure to prep him properly -- he would never ever want to hurt Misha -- but he would definitely make sure Misha knew he was there. He would make sure Misha remembered this for a long time to come.


Rather than starting with just one finger, Jensen eased two past the ring of muscle and into Misha’s body. Misha gasped and bit his lip, but he also pressed back against the digits, taking them in, letting them hit every nerve as they slowly worked their way inside.


“No one else gets to have this,” Jensen found himself saying as he watched his fingers move in and out of Misha’s body. “No one else gets to taste you this way, or take you apart this way.”


Misha groaned and shoved back hard against Jensen’s hand. “Ah! Jen, c’mon.”


“No one sees how beautiful you look when you’re sucking my cock and looking up at me with those big blue eyes.”




Jensen pushed a third lubed finger inside. “No one sees the way your face and chest flush when you’re so close to coming.”


Misha panted and rocked his hips back. “Dammit Jensen just… just…”


Jensen pulled his fingers out and ignored the whined protest from Misha. He slicked up his cock and nudged it against Misha’s opening, teasing, holding back, knowing that Misha wanted it as badly as he did, was desperate for it. He bent forward and sucked at the pulse point of Misha’s neck one last time before guiding just the tip of his cock inside. But still he waited.


“No one else gets to see you like this,” he said. “No one else gets to see you begging and writhing on the end of my cock!” Jensen curled his hands around Misha’s sharp hips and pulled him back, hard, bringing their bodies flush and burying himself deep in Misha’s ass.


Misha cried out loud and beat his hands against the tile as Jensen slapped their bodies together over and over again in a brutal pace. This was claiming, marking. It was love, certainly, always. But it was also frantic and pounding and so very carnal. It was moaning and screaming, pleasure coiling so tightly in their bellies that surely fire must have erupted through their veins.  


And when Misha did indeed come all over the wall, with Jensen’s cock in his ass, and Jensen’s hand wrapped around his dick, and Jensen’s name falling from his lips, then…


Then the claim was slaked. Jensen followed Misha into orgasm and spilled himself into Misha’s body, marking him inside and out.


It took long minutes for them to regain their breath and by then the water was going cold, so Jensen got out of the shower and got both of them towels. He noticed Misha was still a little shaky so he made him sit down on the toilet while he dried off.


“Not that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy that,” Misha chuckled as Jensen gently towel dried his hair. “But you maybe wanna explain yourself now.”




“You were jealous, weren’t you?”




“It was the pie thing, wasn’t it?”


“I have nothing against pie!”


“No, you just don’t like it when other people lick it off me.”


Jensen sighed and hung his head. “Look, Mish. I --”


“I get it, you know,” Misha interrupted him. “I wouldn’t care much for it if someone else were licking cake off of you.”


Jensen’s head snapped up. “You wouldn’t?”


“Of course not.” Misha framed Jensen’s face in his strong hands and peered at him. Jensen felt more naked in that moment than he ever did the entire time they were having sex in the shower.


Misha smiled at him gently. “I’m tired now,” he told him. “And I suspect I’m going to be a bit sore in the morning. Take me to bed and give me a cuddle?”


Jensen smiled and pulled Misha to his feet. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and just held him tight for a moment. Misha dropped his tired head down onto Jensen’s shoulder and yawned. No one else ever got to see Misha this way either, sleepy and snuggly, trusting and willing to be vulnerable.


And that wasn’t just a possession or a claim; it was a gift.