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The Nature of Possession

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The thing about Jared, Misha thought, shifting, is that he was ridiculously possessive.

It’s why they didn’t fuck.

Oh, they had flirted with it before. Even gone as far as blow jobs in the trailer, while Jensen was away. But it was too hard for Jared to separate casual from serious, too hard for him to stay inside the lines of open relationship.

Misha adored Jared.

But then, the thing about Misha, he knew, and his lips quirked into a smirk, and the camera flashed, is that he adored everyone.

But today—today.

Today was too much after too long apart. It’s the same thing that happened in Rome, when Jensen couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and Misha invaded his space like he belonged there, because he did.

If there was one thing Misha was very sure of it was that he belonged in Jensen’s space.

It happened again, in Phoenix. And Jared, the bastard, egged it on, pushing the two of them together, on stage, in front of the entire fucking convention. It didn’t matter to Misha, he was more than willing to tell the world that he was fucking Jensen Ackles.

He wanted to tell the world, truth be told. Jensen leans into Jared, almost exactly the way he does when he’s draped back to Misha’s chest while Mish whispers low and filthy in his ear and jacks him off slow and lazy. The smirk on Jensen’s face says he’s thinking the same thing, and Misha drapes himself across Jared’s other shoulder, his erection pressing into Jared’s hip.

The camera flashes.

But it doesn’t really matter, and keeping it quiet makes Dani happy, makes Jensen happy because he doesn’t have to deal with his parents—they might suspect, because if you’re around Jensen or Misha for more than about ten minutes, of course you’re going to suspect. But they don’t know and they don’t ask.

And Dani being happy matters, to Misha. He’s kinda surprised by that, still. He didn’t expect to hate her, but he wasn’t pleased when Jensen first brought her to set.

Jared gave him shit about it—because if Misha ended things because Jared was possessive, of course he’d give Misha shit for doing the same fucking thing when the tables turned on him.

Jared pulls their faces together, all duck lips and amusement, and they’re almost obscenely close. There is a tiny part—ok, a large part—of Misha that wants to lick across the short space between him and Jensen, to taste Jared’s mouth before he kisses Jensen.

The camera flashes.

Jensen is picking up on Misha’s mood. He's still performing for the camera, still giving it all his broody good looks, but he's also performing for Misha. His eyes linger a little longer than is appropriate, a little too intimate. He stands a little too close.

It's all just a little too much.

It's the place he thrives, that tiny space between enough and too much. Where he can push all of Jensen's boundaries.

Today he doesn't want to push Jensen, though.

He presses closer to Jared, a long line of dress pants and button down and flesh, and his lips brush, teasing and light over the curve of Jared’s shoulder.

The camera flashes.

Jared is ignoring it. Except where he isn't. His eyes skim over Misha and Jensen.

He's still smiling, still all professional smiles and warmth, but he's tense.

Almost vibrating with it when they push together at the photographer's direction.

They are used to each other, used to spending time in each others space. Used to pressing too close and living without boundaries.

There are times Misha is pretty sure Jared has fondled his balls more than his wife has.

But this feel different. It feels...intentional. Like when he touches Misha now--when he touches Jensen--it means something. More than it ever has.

Misha reminds himself that it doesn't work. That Jared doesn't do this casual thing.

That he is too possessive.

But Jared is getting more and more broody as the shoot goes on. They stand in a line, and Jared flicks a look at Misha. His gaze heavy on the planes of Misha's face. Part of him wants to twitch, squirm under the gaze, and even as the camera shifts and the photographer's calling for his attention, Jared can't be bothered.

He stares at Misha. A look that is heavy and hungry and something Misha can feel all the way down to his toes, before it bounces back up and settled like a hot weight in his groin.

Jared leans into Misha, flashing that puppy grin that makes everyone love him, that is easy and fun and not hard to be around. But he presses against him, almost thrusting, and his dick presses against Misha’s ass, a thick taunt rubbing gently.

The camera flashes.

The thing is, if they do this. If they take the teasing past that and make it serious.

They can't go back. They spend too much time with each other, on and off screen, to go back. They aren't just co-workers. They are family. Jensen's an uncle to Jared’s children. The girls are inseparable.

And Jared.

Well. Jared is possessive.

It was more than Misha wanted, when they were fooling around, two hot guys on set with a penchant for jokes and surprisingly deep thoughts.

But then the role for Castiel kept getting renewed. The show kept getting renewed. Misha fell in love with Jensen. And Jared became more than a hot guy to get off with.

For the first time in years, Misha allows himself to consider it.

Really consider it.

Jared is possessive.

But would it be so bad to be possessed by him?

They are pushed together, Jared at Jensen's back, and his fist presses against Jensen's side, like a brand as Misha leans over the other shoulder, a devil perched there.

There is one long strand of hair in Jared’s eyes and Misha shudders as he sees the expression in his hazel gaze.

Dark and hungry and predatory and want.

He decides then.

The camera flashes.

 

 

After, they are left alone to change back into their own clothes. Misha watches Jensen, who's stripping with all the care and intent of a seduction.

He smirks, and leans back, watching.

If there is anything Misha will never tire of, it’s this. Watching Jensen Ackles unwrap himself like a present. There are days when he still can’t quite believe that he allowed this. That Jensen is his to watch, and touch, and fuck.

Green eyes darken when Misha reaches down, cupping his dick through the black dress pants, and rubbing. “Jared will be here, soon,” Jensen says, his voice pitched low and intimate.

It’s the way he sounds when Misha is fucking him and Jensen is begging for more.

“Mmmhm.”

They’ve talked about it. Of course they’ve talked about it. Jared is too present in their lives, and too...Jared….for Misha to dismiss completely. So of course, they’ve talked. Sometimes, when they are very drunk, and Misha is sucking Jensen’s dick, he’ll murmur, soft and almost sweet. You'd look so good, with Jared fucking you. You’d like it, being stuffed full of his dick, while you suck mine.

And Misha would squirm and whine around Jensen’s cock, thrusting against his leg while Jen laughed and held his hands behind his back and fucked his mouth until they both came, him on the wet heat and magic tongue, and Misha on the high of dragging Jen to his knees and the phantom touch his words conjure.

So they talk.

But they’ve never taken it past that. And dirty talk in bed, pillow talk after sex, even the occasional appreciative, I’d fuck that murmured on red carpets--they aren’t this.

“You know he’s a possessive bastard,” Jensen says, because yes.

Misha smiles, all white teeth and pink gums and wicked blue. “So am I,” he says simply and Jensen lunges, all of that tension snapping under the weight of that one sentence, boiling up and over and Misha groans as Jen shoves him into the wall, pins him there with the weight of his body and the press of his lips, fucking finally.

The kiss is hard and messy and rough. Teeth and tongue everywhere, until Jensen catches a handful of hair and jerks Misha’s head back, pulling a moan that is pure need from the older man. He goes almost limp and Jensen smiles against his throat as he kisses down it, the long kissable length bared to him. He nips at him, a sharp press of teeth and Misha bucks against him, pleading wordlessly.

“Take off the clothes, Mish,” Jensen purrs into his ear. His fingers slip down, between them, thumbing open the pants and helping shove them down and off. Jensen follows them down, and sucks him deep without any warning. Misha shouts, a wordless noise as his hips buck up and his hands clench in Jensen’s hair.

Jensen licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, swirls his tongue around head, teasing and Misha whines, “Fuck, Jen, please.”

There’s a low huff of laughter, and then Jensen presses a kiss to his hip, wet and hard, with the press of teeth, while he jacks Misha and listens to his lover beg.

“Don’t tease him, Ackles,” a deep voice says, and Misha blinks. Jared is standing in the doorway, open behind him. Distantly, he can hear the photographer and the art director talking, can still see the camera flashing behind Jared. Anyone could walk past, could see Jensen still on his knees, teasing at Misha’s cock with lips and tongue and Misha feels his orgasm, boiling up, and he makes a whimper, low in his throat.

Jensen wraps his hand around Misha’s cock, squeezing and grins up at him. “Not yet,” he murmurs, and then, louder, “Not that I mind being watched, but shut the fucking door, Jared.”

Jared huffs a laugh, and steps into the room.

The door closing behind him, locking the door with a soft snick is deafening.

And it releases them, all of them.

Jared crosses the room in two long strides and catches Misha’s face in his hands, those big fucking hands he’s been dreaming of for far longer than he wants to admit. And now those hands are framing his face, tilting him up as Jensen goes down on him, his cock disappearing in that perfect wet heat while Jared’s thumb rubs over his lips and Misha can’t stop himself from sucking on it, catching the fat pad of flesh with his teeth and biting down, watching Jared from under his lashes, while his eyes go dark and hot and then he’s jerking him up further, and kissing him. Licking him open and nipping when he moves, his tongue thrusting lazy and hot while Jared holds him there, not letting Misha move, taking his mouth like it’s his.

It’s so fucking hot.

When Jared pulls back, Misha whimpers, a broken little noise that makes the other man smirk, even as he dips back in for another lazy kiss.

“Jensen,” Jared almost purrs, and Jen hums around Misha’s cock, eyes rolling up to the men above him.

“You’re gonna open him up. Get him all nice and loose and ready for me. And then, he’s gonna suck your dick, while I fuck your boyfriend.” Jared doesn’t look away from Misha while he says it, and it’s so damn self-assured, so confident that for a second, Misha feels a spike of indignation.

Jared must see it in his eyes, because he smiles, all dark promises, and leans closer. Whispers against his throat, “Problem with that?”

Misha grunts when Jared bites down, and his cock jerks where Jensen is jacking him slowly.

“Nah, man.” Jensen answer for him, “No problem at all.”

Jared murmurs something against Misha’s skin that sounds suspiciously like, thank fuck, but then Jensen is twisting him, forcing him to face the wall, pulling him back by the hips, and Misha bites the hand he’s leaning against when he feels Jensen’s tongue, licking sweet heat just behind his balls and climbing higher. The touch is light, almost teasing, and Misha moans, writhing as the licks come, faster but light. There and gone, over and over, when all he wants is the solid wet heat, pressing in and open. He’s teasing. Still. “Fucking hell, Jensen,” Misha snarls.

Jensen’s lips, pressed tight against him, curl up and Misha snarls, “Bastard” before he's there. Deep stabbing heat, a finger pushing past the tight ring of muscles while Jen traces the delicate curl, and Misha can feel Jared watching. Can feel the weight of him standing close, but not touching.

Possessive but not possessing.

It's annoying as fuck.

“Stop fucking teasing and take what you want,” Misha snaps, gasping when Jensen adds another finger, tilting his hips back to give him better access.

Jared laughs, and it's hungry fond amused, rubbing against sensitive skin. “Bossy fucker.”

Bellow, Jensen hums an assent and Misha opens his mouth, to argue, when Jared bites him.

Hard.

On the fucking neck, where it will be visible and distinct and --

Jensen is fucking him with tongue and fingers and Jared is a still clothed heat at his back, teeth digging in, tongue tracing over, and he comes.

Hard and loud and messy against the wall, he fucking comes with a scream. Wordless pleasure strung out and played by the two men.

“Jen,” Jared says hoarsely, and Jensen pulls away with a low groan. Shifts up. Jared pulls Misha up, a drunken puppet with cut strings, all loose limb floppy as Jared manipulates him around and drags him into a rough kiss. Fingers skate over his belly, smear cone over tan skin. And then Jensen is there, ignoring Misha as he pulls Jared back by the hair. Jared’s eyes flash and then go lazy as Jensen rubs white slick fingers over his lips, chases them with his tongue, catches with teeth and sucks the deep, clean. His eyes close and he makes a deep hungry noise.

“Christ,” Misha murmurs when Jared reaches out, eyes still closed. He flails a little before Jensen catches his hand and hauls him in, catching his mouth in a filthy deep kiss.

The noise that Jared makes. Misha will hear that noise for years. Deep and strung out, hungry, Jensen’s name pulled out like a fucking benediction.

He's loose and spent and wants what they promised.

He wants them to fuck him.

He wants this to be real.

He wants to possess and be possessed.

He slides behind Jared, reaching around his big body to unbutton his shirt. His fingers brush against Jensen, grounding him, settling him. This feels so...big. but he can see Jensen’s familiar smile, his eyes bedroom dark and comforting.

Even if Jared like this is not his norm, Jensen is, and they are all together.

“Quit fucking around, Mish,” Jared says, nipping at Jensen's lip before he shrugs off the smaller man and out of his shirt. Miles and miles of skin that's begging to be touched and worshiped.

He unbuckles his belt and shoves down his pants and boxers and Jensen whistles, low and teasing appreciative. “Think I'm jealous that Misha is the one whose getting fucked.” Jared smiles, and some of the tension eases out of him. “next time,” he murmurs.

There is a single moment, a heartbeat where all of them can bask in the now spoken promise.

There will be a next time.

And then Jared is pushing Misha down on the small couch, too small for all of them, and Misha laughs as he lands, and Jared sprawls over him, kissing sloppy and wet, desperate, rocking against him. They’re sliding down, falling off and nothing has even happened yet.

Misha wiggles and shifts, until Jared is cursing and he’s crowing in triumph, sliding out from under him. He bounces up and grins, all wide and victorious. Circles the couch and leans over the arm. “This,” he says, nodding. And both of them stare at him and he rolls his eyes a little.

“God, he’s shiny,” Jared says, and it’s such a strange thing to say that Misha blinks, but Jensen nods. Grins at him.

“He always is, when we fuck.”

Jared makes an appreciative noise, and then he’s moving, lining up behind him and Misha has a second, as his cock rubs thick and long along his crease, to wonder how the hell he was gonna take it all, before Jared was pushing into him.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, collapsing on the couch. It tilts his ass up, and Jared grips him—those fucking hands, again—and Misha whines, as he pushes in. He feels trapped, pinned, split open and he fucking loves it. Wiggles a little, as much as he can, in Jared’s grasp, pushing back and reveling in the sharp little points of Jared’s nails digging into his hips, and the steady stream of curses raining down like filthy praise.

“Babe,” Jensen murmurs and Misha blinks, dazed. He’s half kneeling on the couch, and stroking his cock, watching them with this fierce hunger that is fucking with Misha. He makes a mewling noise in his throat and mouths at Jensen’s dick, letting out a sigh of relief as Jen feeds it to him, with slow thrusts. Misha doesn’t take control, like he is so prone to do. He doesn’t thrust against the couch or back against Jared, whose gone still and heave against him, doesn’t control the thrust of Jen’s cock with a heavy hand or teeth.

He lies there, pliant and theirs.

“Fuck,” Jared mutters. “I’ve wanted this. So fucking long.”

The words make Misha keen and Jensen thrust into his mouth, and Jared laughs, and fucks him.

It doesn’t last long. There’s been too much, and not enough, but Jared fucks him, these long heavy strokes that he swears he can feel in his throat, and Jensen fucks his mouth, and both are grunting and it’s too much.

Jensen comes first, his pace stuttering, gasping, “Mish.

And Misha swallows around him, licking at him while Jared snarls and jerks Misha back, by the hips. When Jensen falls back, he hauls the smaller man up, an arm around his chest, and pumps his dick, drawing a gasp from Misha.

They come like that, pinned together, under Jensen’s gaze, hard and rough and fucking perfect. Jared doesn’t exactly drop Misha, but he doesn’t not drop him, and Jensen gathers the other man in his arms, pulling him close, ignoring the mess that of come and sweat that’s coating him. They kiss, lazy and sweet as he huddles in the circle of his arms.

For a few seconds, as Jared reels drunkly near but not touching, Misha wonders what will happen, now.

From the way Jensen is watching Jared over Misha’s head, he’s wondering the same.

“Scoot over,” Jared orders, and shoves them a little, until he’s sprawled in the corner, and then he tugs them back, tucking Misha into his shoulder, and pressing a kiss to his sweaty hairline, and then tugging Jensen down on top of them. He kisses Jen, a little tongue and teeth, but it’s go no real intent behind it.

It’s just because he can.

“Told them to fuck off,” Jared says. “So we’re good for a while.”

Misha glances at him, smirking, “Pretty confident of yourself, huh?”

Jared shrugs, and dips down to kiss him again before relaxing on the couch. A sprawl of long limbs and sweaty skin, and it shouldn’t be as comfortable as it, wrapped around each other like this.

They are used to occupying each other’s space, to the casual intimacy that comes from long days and night on set, weeks spent away from family and with each other. It’s normal, this kind of comfort they find in each other.

Maybe, Misha thinks, as Jensen traces a pattern on his belly and Jared goes loose limbed and sleepy under him, they were always headed here. Maybe fighting it because of Jared’s possessive streak was stupid.

Because sex isn’t really where they possess each other.

It’s here.

It’s this.

He’s smiling, when he drifts off to the sound of the other two breathing.