Misha licks his lips and inhales deeply as he moves his hands on the soft skin rippling over the muscle of Jensen’s shoulders. He is leaning in the corner of an uncomfortable hotel couch, one foot on the cushions, the other planted on the floor. His legs are spread wide and Jensen is between them, half on the couch, half kneeling on the floor. Jensen still wears his jeans, but his shirt is on the floor somewhere by the door, revealing the wide, smooth expanse of his back.
Misha squeezes Jensen’s shoulders and bites gently at his own lip. Logically, he should be focused on Jensen’s head—specifically his mouth which is sucking him off slowly and methodically, even more specifically his tongue teasing his glans and his lips stretched wide around his girth. But he’s mesmerized by the roll of powerful muscles in Jensen’s back as it arches into the forward movement of his head, and then bows when he pulls back, obscene slurping noises making each pass impossibly more arousing.
Jensen’s back is flawless: symmetrical, hairless, completely unmarked. As much as Jensen hates his little tummy pudge that Misha thinks is really sexy but gets him a punch on the arm whenever he mentions it, Jensen from behind is like a sculpted Greek ideal of beauty. Misha raises his foot from the floor and hooks his big toe in the side of Jensen’s jeans, loose because the fly is undone, and pushes them down just enough to see that nice dimple below the small of his back. Misha smiles. Commando. Of course.
He hums appreciatively at the sight and drops his foot to the floor again. Jensen’s hand grips his thigh tighter and Misha slides one hand from his shoulder and onto the back of his head. Jensen’s pace increases a little, even the merest suggestion of being under Misha’s control turning him on even more. But Misha does nothing to encourage him to hurry. He’s enjoying the sinuous slide of Jensen’s body as it moves between his legs.
Misha runs his nails lightly along Jensen’s scalp and his breath hitches as the man’s moan reverberates down his cock and into his body. He sits up slightly.
“Babe, you ready?”
Jensen nods minutely.
Misha sits up fully and smoothes his hands down that beautiful plane of supple skin and hard muscle as he floats on the waves of a potent, yet gentle orgasm. Jensen does admirably as he swallows Misha’s spend even with a large dick stuffed down his throat. When he finally pulls back, his face is a little red and there are the tiniest of tears in the corners of his eyes. Misha doesn’t mention them, but kisses Jensen’s swollen, salty lips. He pulls back and gives him a smile.
“On the bed, babe.”
Jensen moves a little stiffly; he has been on his knees for a while and he’s not a young buck anymore. He removes his jeans and turns to sit on the bed.
“Unh-uh,” Misha says, eyes tracking every movement. “Face down.”
Jensen quirks an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment as he lies on his stomach on the mattress. Misha moves to stand at the foot bed, smiling at the inviting sweep of Jensen’s back.