With the way Misha grips his shoulder and Jensen smiles oh so casually, Jared can’t wait to get them back home. He can’t wait to get rid of those stupid jackets, ties folding into the floor, and be pushed knees first into the mattress by the insistent weight of Misha’s body.
He can’t wait to brace himself on the slope of Jensen’s hips, leave marks and bruises with his fingertips and teeth as Misha fucks him eagerly, head bent backwards and muscles straining. He can see it in his mind, the way Jen would grip his hair and guide him where he wants him, opening him up with gentle fucks and smiling sweetly in that boyish, careless way of his.
Misha’s grip tightens on his shoulder and he thinks that maybe he’s not the only one whose dick is filling up with thoughts of them; Jared in the middle of it all, a whirlwind of tongues on his skin and scrapes on his back as he lies naked in the cage of flesh they’ll make for him.
He blinks and it’s a vision of a second as he imagines how flushed Jen would look, dick buried fat and hot inside his throat while Misha kisses him in the space above. He can almost feel the brush of fabric on his skin, the silk of their shirts still hanging open in the hurry to get going. Like getting Jared naked it’s enough and they don’t need anything more than that, pants bundled up around their tights and socks still in place.
It’s a beautiful habit made of sweat and swallowed cries, but they don’t do this nearly as often as he’d like. They get lost around the shooting of a scene and silly interviews, long hours leaving them exhausted and sleep deprived; still, as the camera flash burns his pupils to little points of shock he can’t help thinking how much he loves his job, for this and more.
Yes, he loves his job alright, but as their picture is being taken he thinks it’s time to back their bags and go.
