Uncontroversial Behavior

Ho Ho Ho

- Summary-

Misha is Defiantly on the naughty list. . .

Jensen's got to admit, he's feeling fucking stupid. The suit's too damn big for him, the beard fucking itches and fuck alone knows what the last guy who wore this did, but Jensen had the entire outfit steam cleaned twice before he'd even put it on. But it's all entirely worth it for the way Misha's breath hitches when he walks into the house.

A text from Jared told Jensen when Misha had left the set, told him how long he had until Misha walked through the door. Time enough to get the suit on and get downstairs, sitting in the chair and waiting until he heard the key in the lock.

And now Misha's just looking at him, tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip.

"I hear there's been a naughty boy in this house." And, fuck, Jensen doesn't normally do porn dialogue, normally cracks up at the first spank me, big boy, but he's willing to re-evaluate when Misha's eyes widen and he takes a step towards Jensen, his bag on the floor, forgotten.

Jensen pats his knee. "Come here, Misha--" And he knows that his Santa is sounding more like his Dean, but it doesn't stop Misha from moving forward until he's next to Jensen's legs.

"Jen--"

"Ah-ah--" Jensen interrupts him, waggling a finger.

"Santa--" Misha breathes.

Jensen smiles behind the beard. "Now, Misha," he says, patting his knee again and reaching out to wrap his fingers around Misha's wrist. "Come sit on Santa's lap."

Misha doesn't resist as Jensen tugs him forward, settling onto Jensen's knee.

"Is it true what I've been hearing, Misha? That you've been a very naughty boy?" Jensen doesn't want to admit how easily he seems to be settling into this, his arm around Misha's waist and his cock hardening under the layer of red fabric.

Misha looks at him, teeth worrying at his lower lip, and Jensen thinks for a moment that's all he's going to get from Misha, and then-- "I've tried to be a good boy, Santa, I have, but it's so difficult."

Unwrapping his fingers from Misha's wrist, Jensen rests his hand on Misha's knee, fingers rubbing circles over Misha's jeans. "Tell me how you're a naughty boy, Misha."

Misha glances away, and even though Jensen knows it's an act, even though Jensen knows that Misha has a mouth on him that can bring any grown man to his knees, right now he's nothing but coy and innocent and Jensen doesn't think he can get any harder.

Misha turns back to look at Jensen. "I like to suck cock, Santa."

But it's not the first time Jensen's been wrong. "Go on," he says, wondering if Misha hears the break in the middle of words as loudly as he does, wondering if he can feel Jensen's cock pressing into his thigh.

"I like having a cock in my mouth, Santa," Misha continues. "I love the taste and the smell and the way it feels when a man's balls hit my chin as he fucks my throat."

"Not just any man, I hope," Jensen mutters.

"Santa?" Misha's eyes are shining and Jensen's not sure if it's lust or amusement, but thinks it may be a combination of both.

"I said, Misha, that I hope you're not the type of naughty boy who goes around sucking random men." Because the mental image of Misha on his knees and being held in place while cock after cock slides down his throat is one Jensen's absolutely prepared to get behind, but only if itstays a mental image.

"Oh no, Santa," Misha assures him, "it's definitely just one man."

Ha! Take that, rest of the world. "Well, good."

Misha pauses and, fuck, if he keeps looking at Jensen like that, then the inside of the suit is gonna get a whole lot stickier. "Does sucking cock make me a naughty boy, Santa?"

Jensen shakes his head. "No, Misha," he says, his hand moving up Misha's thigh to press at the bulge in his jeans, palm against the hard cock straining behind denim, "it makes you a very, very good boy." Snapping open the buttons on Misha's jeans, Jensen slides his hand inside.

"Oh, Santa--" Misha breathes, as Jensen's fingers wrap around his cock, tugging it slightly and releasing the swollen flesh from its confines as he starts to jerk it.

Jensen's hand is moving over Misha's cock, stripping it fast and hard and Misha's fucking writhing in his lap, squirming in a way that's rubbing Jensen's own hardness. "Fuck, Mish--" Jensen gasps out as Misha reaches down, pressing the palm of his hand against Jensen and wrapping fingers around cock and red felt.

It's messy and uncoordinated and he's wearing a Santa suit, for Christ's sake, but it's kind of fucking perfect as Misha stills suddenly, arching into Jensen's touch and grunting soft noises as the come pulses out of him and splatters over Jensen's fingers. His hand tightens around Jensen's cock as he comes, sharp and there and then Jensen's following him, cock throbbing as the crotch of the Santa suit becomes sodden with his own release.

There's silence for long moments, broken only by heavy breathing and the soft rustle of clothing. Silence for long moments until Misha starts to laugh.

"Jesus, Jen, I can't believe you just did that." Misha's voice is low and wrecked, his entire body relaxed in Jensen's hold.

"Hey, you're the one who just let Santa jerk you off," Jensen responds, his cock giving a valiant final twitch as Misha turns around, the now sticky suit brushing over the head of his sensitised cock.

"Yeah, I did," Misha grins, as he leans forward and tugs the beard down before capturing Jensen's lips with his own. "Merry Christmas to me."