Emily (ghostwrit) wrote in johnnyfanfic,

Starstruck 2/2 (Misha Collins/Johnny Depp, NC17)

Title: Starstruck (2/2).
Author: ghostwrit.
Pairing: Misha Collins/Johnny Depp.
Rating: NC17.
Summary: Misha meets his match.
Feedback: Essential. If you can, please leave a comment.

The cab ride over had been thrilling. Shoulder to shoulder they sat, like co-conspirators, smiling as they watched each other on the peripheral, their fingers and legs brushing occasionally. Misha was surprised to find that the faded scent of nicotine, alcohol and aftershave were really inviting, and that Johnny was warm.

When Misha felt an arm hook over his shoulder, his smile deepened and he bowed his head, leaning slowly into him, relaxed and comforted by the gesture, despite the excitement going on elsewhere. He spent most of the time with his gaze unfocused so it might've appeared he was looking out of the window but his smile gave him away as he felt lips against his forehead. Johnny smiled at him as he got out, holding the door for Misha. It was so fond, it made Misha's heart swell.

So now they were at the door of the suite reserved for honeymooners and politicians, Misha was safely eschewed as they went up in the elevator, hidden by Johnny who held him inside his coat and kept him there all the way to his floor.

The Four Seasons was a huge hotel. Full of ornate, intricate furniture laden with patterns, jewels and obviously expensive. There were even gilded mirrors, puffed-up floral couches in the corridors and all the ceilings had chandeliers. "Disgusting, isn't it?" Johnny commented as he swiped his keycard into the slot, making it click before he swung the door open.

"Like someone puked money on the upholstery." Misha agreed as he walked in, feeling apprehensive at seeing the four-poster looming at the end of the room.

Chuckling, Johnny shut the door behind them. "Probably would've been more productive."

Removing his jacket and shoes, as he always did, Misha placed the jacket on an antique chair with the shoes going underneath. Moving to turn, Misha felt strong arms envelop his waist and he smiled again, going red. Turning at last, he saw Johnny's gaze flick up & down his body. He looked serious, desire written into his whole face.

"Do you need a drink or anything?" Johnny asked, holding Misha close to him as he spoke in a low voice. He pressed another kiss to Misha's forehead.

"Politeness, Johnny!" Misha warned, sounding affronted, trying to ignore how good the feel of Johnny's lips on his skin was.

"Sorry!" Johnny replied, holding his hands up, amused. "That was a bad social faux-pas."

"Hey! Watch your language!" Misha said, instantly picking up the slack. Terrified to the core, he lifted his head slightly to stare deep into Johnny's eyes. Mastering his fear was something he had learnt to be good at.

"Goddamnit." Johnny murmured, tilting his head to place a small kiss on Misha's cheek. "I was planning to seduce you with that."

"I knew it!" Misha cried, eyes brightening. He didn't want to delay but he loved how Johnny's heart-shaped mouth was framed by a tiny moustache and he didn't want to stop looking at it. Remembering how it tickled his skin, he felt himself stiffening. "So... we're really doing this?" He asked in a much smaller voice.

Johnny's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes & mouth, like crumpled paper. "Looks like." Unhooking the scarf he'd laid over Misha's shoulders, he smiled kindly at him.

Giving it a mournful glance as it hit the floor, Misha placed his hands at the small of Johnny's back, rubbing slow circles there.

Leaning close, Johnny swept his nose against Misha's until he reciprocated. Taking off Misha's shirt with swift movements, he threw it to the scarf, concentrating his steady gaze on Misha's face. "I knew when I saw you that I'd be taking you back here." He said slowly, like he was measuring each word carefully. "You know, some people are typically beautiful... pointless..." He looked down at Misha's chest and narrowed his eyes, his whole forehead creasing like he'd never seen anything so amazing. "But you stand out. Your eyes... god, your eyes are incredible." He cradled Misha's face in his hands. "You're so special. Enchanting. Full of soul."

Overwhelmed, Misha swallowed hard, closing his eyes in response to this declaration. Johnny Depp was hitting on him. They were in his hotel room, about to have sex. Misha couldn't cut through the haze of thoughts clouding his mind. Johnny had spoken so softly, it was nearly obscene and Misha's zipper was at breaking point as his dick strained against it.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. Another part of him did the same and he shivered but not from the cold. "Obviously, I'm irresistable."

"Obviously." Johnny whispered with a small smile. Capturing Misha's lips with his own, he pressed against them, moving deliberately slow, Johnny's tongue circling inside Misha's mouth and lapping his tongue.

The ache in Misha surged somewhere in the small of his back, sending a shockwave sensation to his groin. He moaned as he let Johnny open his mouth, laving it, suckling his tongue and letting his moustache tickle the skin above it.

Lips curved into smiles against each other's kisses, Misha redoubled his efforts, panting gratefully into Johnny's mouth as fingers splayed along his naked back then were withdrawn.

Johnny's gaze intensified, his body shifting and Misha felt the nimble fingers touching the crotch of his pants, trying to find the right place. They cupped him finally then squeezed so hard, it was blissful torture and he could do nothing but let Johnny pleasure him.

"Misha..." Johnny half-moaned as Misha's hips pushed forwards into his hands of their own accord. "I had no idea you were this hard for me."

"Fuck..." Misha breathed back, placing his chin on Johnny's shoulder, looking blindly toward the cream/crimson wallpaper ensemble.

"How'm I gonna fit all of you inside me?" Johnny whispered, soft lips grazing Misha's earlobe. Thrusting into Johnny's hand without self-consciousness, Misha grunted.

Johnny chuckled in response, letting his warm breaths gust along his neck.

"Chop me up and eat me?" Misha finally panted, answering as if he could no longer think, just saying words to fill the silence. "Burn me to ash and smoke me?" Grabbing fistfuls of Johnny's shirt, he tugged it up and over his head, gracelessly.

Chuckling again, Johnny kissed Misha's hair as the shirt landed on the carpet by their feet. He reached down to unzip Misha's pants carefully, "Cretin."

"Magpie." Misha retorted, losing his composure as he moaned without being touched.

Johnny reached inside his pants and found fleshy hardness instantly, which he stroked with skill. Misha bit his lip, trying to concentrate. Johnny's shoulders were littered with tattoos, the tops of his arms lined with them and his body seemed to fit around them, not the other way around.

"Guilty." Johnny confessed in a whisper. "... And commando? Really?"

"Saves time when I'm changing into my superhero suit." Misha answered him lightning-fast, letting his teeth graze the shoulder and neck exposed to him.

"Of course it does." Johnny replied, in a soothing tone, secretly pleased that Misha was babbling nonsense (more so than usual) for him already, obviously too turned on for coherence.

Misha shirked his own pants down his legs, uncoupling Johnny's hands from his genitals and unhooking the clothing from his ankles. When he looked up, he saw Johnny staring at his erection, reverant and hungry.

Naked except for his socks, Misha refused to let his fear overtake him.

"Very beautiful..." Johnny murmured, touching him again, apprieciating every aspect of him. Soft fingers wrapped around the shaft, clasping there.

"You're still... in your jeans." Misha said, swallowing, tasting the thud of his own heartbeat in his mouth. His voice sounded ragged to his ears and he sagged when Johnny let go of him, pre-come already pooling at the tip, freezing in the air of the room. He longed for the warmth to return.

"So take them off." Johnny commanded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm... nervous." Misha explained with a small grin, ignoring the way his fingers shook as he placed his fingers inside the waistband of Johnny's denim jeans, tugging them down. While he did this, Johnny busied himself, taking off various rings and neck ornaments and bracelets, placing them on a mahogany side table.

"Don't be." He whispered. Sliding off the last ring, he stroked a forefinger under Misha's chin and grinned back, looking mischievious. "Don't be." He repeated.

Rearranging his floppy hair, Johnny managed to make it more messy somehow. It was such a sweetly intimate gesture, Misha fingered the thick strands for him, placing them either side of his parting neatly.

His hands stroked Johnny's head, tucking some hair behind his ear, then cupping his face in both hands. Misha's hands only trembled a little this time. Fingering his neck, he stroked downwards then squeezed every inch of his shoulders, the muscles there, wanting to know every last part of him.

Tracing his knuckles, palms and fingertips over the skin of Johnny's bare ribcage, Misha sighed softly. The muscles there rippled above his stomach. Moving of their own accord now, Misha's fingers ghosted along the path of hair leading to Johnny's cock.

Stroking the skin back up to Johnny's belly button, Misha smiled again. He had a thing for navals. Johnny's was no exception; soft, unblemished, darkening skin. Misha fought a strong urge to lick it.

"Hi." Johnny said, making Misha's head snap back up. He looked curious but amused. "You look like you've got an appetite."

Jolted into action, Misha's hands reached between Johnny's legs, placing one around his dick, the other cradling his balls.

"It's practically incurable. Are you sure you still want to donate?" Misha asked. His tone had taken on a definite husk.

Warm hands went back to Misha's temples, stroking his face and hair. "I'll see your donation and raise you one."

"Ok, I'm in." Misha confirmed, hands and eyes drawn to Johnny's now-leaking prick which was straining hard outside of its confines.

"Not yet you're not." Johnny whispered with a laugh, noting Misha's dark gaze holding him and stilling his own hips with practised discipline.

Johnny leant forward to press his lips to Misha's but Misha grabbed Johnny's waist, kissing him first, hard on the mouth, tongue duelling without invitation or challenge. He began to frot against Johnny, mindlessly. Their mingled panting was the only sound in the room for a moment as their hips moved together then their united moans rose in their throats, a symphony of want.

Kissing slowed, becoming featherlight, their bodies became more taut against each other. Misha lifted a leg to hook it around Johnny's back, trying to get closer but wanting to climb into him. Misha bit Johnny's bottom lip, holding him as tightly to him as he could, squeezing his eyes shut.

Eventually unwinding himself, Misha could feel the nerves over his accelarated heartrate. Taking Johnny's hand, he pulled him toward the four-poster bed and moved him onto it, in a sitting position. Misha seemed to hesitate.

"What do you want?" Johnny asked.

"I want..." Misha's eyes glazed over as he looked at him. "C-can you open your legs?"

Johnny's smirk was smug. "Of course. Anything." He said with a significant look at Misha before spreading his legs apart, serenely. "You want to see my face when I come, right?"

"God, you've got a dirty mouth!" Misha cried, looking dismayed, as if Johnny hadn't just offered his own ass on a plate.

Johnny's smirk lengthened at whatever thought had passed through his head and Misha thought he might pass out.

"Come here." Johnny said, carefully pulling Misha with him as he lay back on the bed.

A mild moment of panic sent adrenaline through Misha's veins. He allowed himself to be brought down onto Johnny's body. Johnny stared hard into Misha's barely-focused eyes, suddenly lost in them. "I can't imagine how weird this is for you," He said, soft and low. "But I'm selfish and I can't wait. If you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna spurt myself into a coma."

Laughing nervously, Misha looked down at him fondly. "Well, we can't have that..." He murmured, shifting, still imagining this was some dream. Blue eyes mapped out inked flesh, hair dusted over his chest, the erect pink nipples and prick waiting for him, and in his face, dilated pupils surrounded by coffee-colored irises flecked with amber, swollen-lipped and strong-jawed, skin all pockmarked up close.

"Jesus..." Misha breathed, reaching down between them and underneath Johnny's body to pull his asscheeks apart. He groaned at how flexible Johnny was. Angling himself better, he trailed his cock up and down the cleft of Johnny's ass, feeling his blood surge downwards.

They watched each other curiously as Misha prodded the soft globes of Johnny's backside, using one hand to hold & stroke his dick. "Is this what you wanted?" Misha asked, quietly.

"A-almost." Johnny half-stuttered, looking perfectly debauched, his cheeks flooding with color.

Misha felt Johnny push back against his erection and furrowed his brow at the friction. Johnny's hole was so inviting and hot to the touch, that he tested its elasticity by pressing into the flesh. It gave way easily, surprising him, letting him in.

"Oh holy fuck!" Misha groaned.

"Sssh!" Johnny hushed him, clearly relaxed and ready. "C'mon. More, Misha."

Taking a shuddering breath, Misha nodded, his whole face serious now. "Tell me if it hurts."

Closing his eyes, Misha re-opened them quickly, remembering he wanted to watch Johnny. Johnny who was grinning and winking at him from the mattress. Hands found Misha's hips and pulled them. Misha pushed reflexively back into Johnny's warm, velvety tightness, pulling back, pushing in, deeper every time.

It was far too tight, and addictive, so addictive. He didn't care that it felt too tight to even come, as long as he didn't have to stop. When Johnny clenched deliberately around him, Misha's eyes watered. He wanted to howl.

"Better than pussy, isn't it?" Johnny asked him, voice dangerously low.

Misha blinked steadily, not answering. Johnny's legs drew around Misha's back, encircling his body, holding him in place. Feeling gangly and unco-ordinated under Johnny's heavy scrutiny, Misha continued, couldn't stop even if he wanted to, as he began to slide his dick in & out of his entrance.

The pucker contracted around his length, muscles relaxing, allowing him absolute depth. Arching, Johnny moaned, pushing harder onto his dick, driving Misha wild with desire.

"Johnny..." He moaned desperately, because Johnny was drawing his lust from him without mercy. He thrust in earnest with Johnny's self-impalement. His heart thundered.

"Yes, God, Misha yes..."

They kissed tenderly, Misha puncuating the silence with gutteral moans while he moved into Johnny fluidly, as if they were one living being.

He felt himself grow inside Johnny, stiffening more, and it shouldn't have been possible. Scrunching his whole face up, he felt Johnny shift beneath him.

"What? I don't..."

"You're getting engorged in-inside me..." Johnny hissed through gritted teeth.

"Hurts?" Misha asked, letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Like a bitch." Johnny said but the last word came out like one drawn out, pleasured syllable.

Deciding this was good, that he always wanted to hear Johnny make that noise, he began pistoning his hips, fucking Johnny as hard as he could.

Feeling fingernails graze his scalp, Misha smiled as he watched Johnny take panicked breaths, his head thrown back in ecstasy, gnawing his own bottom lip.

Taking Johnny's hands from his head by the wrists, Misha placed them by the headboard and worked harder, moving faster, his cock burning with friction and effort as he sweated onto Johnny's naked form. Johnny who was beautiful & real & here & all his.

Their conjoined bodies rubbed together, chest and naval hair like tickly electric between them. They began to groan simultaneously at each others movements, into each others mouths.

Misha rode Johnny as hard as he could, feeling the bump of his prostate before each moan left Johnny's throat. They reverbarated, sending bolts of pleasure through them, straight to Misha's balls.

Inside him, Misha felt the muscles clench and unclench. His own cock pulsed in empathy, leaving him gasping. Johnny keened, mouth wide open then made what sounded like a broken plea. Misha looked down just in time to see Johnny's dick spurt thick loads onto his stomach, catching Misha's body also, the spunk already drying there.

Misha could've wept. He pumped himself into Johnny, giving everything he had, spilling every last drop inside his tight sweetness. It was glory; heaven; nirvana.

His mouth ran wet kisses along Johnny's jawline, cheek then down the bridge of his nose. Their nostrils touched, nudging, and they smiled.

"Don't move." Johnny requested quietly. "Stay in me just a little longer."

In response, Misha gave a small but definite nod. They stayed this way, content, for a long moment, afterglow settling on them. Occasionally, Misha nipped Johnny's lips with his own, possessively.

"We... definitely figured our way safely around politeness." Misha commented, regulating his breathing.

There was an answering snort of breath beneath him. "Yeah, we sure dodged that bullet."

"Mm." Misha agreed, smirk firmly back in place. "So,... we shake hands now, sneak me back out and what? Promise to call each other?"

Johnny craned his head to look at him. "Was it that bad?"

"No... I..." Misha felt lost for any kind of explanation. He tried to fuse his thoughts. "No." He began again, defiantly. "But you're you."

Mouth curved into a sad smile, Johnny regarded Misha with care. "I'm just a guy. No more pedestals, please."

"Oh." Misha said, surprised. "So you're in the gutter with the rest of us now?"

"As demonstrated." Johnny grinned up at him, then stretched.

"Well, you're a natural." Misha informed him, looking proud.

Johnny laughed aloud.

"Gee thanks," He filled his tone with as much sarcasm as he could find. "Misha, I meant to ask -- are you... do you work in film?"

Shaking his head, Misha smiled. "TV. I've done film. But... not really."

Johnny raised his eyebrows but Misha didn't elaborate.

"So... you're an actor too?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah. I work on a show called Supernatural."

Johnny's face lit up in recognition of the word. "I've heard of that."

Misha nodded, already knowing he'd probably know the series. Slowly, he uncoupled their bodies to lie beside Johnny.

"So,... you play an assassin? Or, like, a hunter, right?" Johnny asked, obviously trying to remember some distant memory of what he'd been told.

"Nope," Misha said. They leant close to each other whilst talking, curling into each others warmth. "An angel."

Johnny began to snicker into Misha's chest then at the sight of Misha's severe expression, it bubbled over into laughter. "I can't imagine that!"

"I didn't... ask you to." Misha said, honestly bemused.

"Sorry... sorry Misha." Johnny said, nuzzling Misha's neck, still chuckling.


There was a buzz on set that Misha wasn't feeling. He kept thinking of the taxi ride back. He'd been too tired to note that they hadn't exchanged numbers, too worn from the ecstasy of their night and morning to acknowledge any other kind of ache or need.

When it hit, it hit him hard. Addiction was something he handled badly every time and he needed a fix soon. He tried pornography, poetry, even a few backhanded compliments on Twitter but nothing worked.

A young, undertrained P.A. brought him a nasty-looking coffee. He took it gratefully anyway, not really paying attention. He wondered how long the poor guy would last. Had he lasted long enough with Johnny, more importantly? And since when the fuck had Johnny Depp had the right to infiltrate his every waking thought?

Jared walked over, face a mixture of maritual bliss and wonder, like he'd lost his virginity all over again. Misha knew that feeling presently but it was twisting his heart. He gave his friendly co-worker a strained smile.

"Hi Jared."

"Hi." Jared said, more terse than usual, like he wanted to get the smalltalk out of the way fast. "Guess what?"

Misha made a half-hearted gesture with his hand, sipping his coffee.

"Ok, the budget here has ... kinda skyrocketed with you on board. So we can obviously afford more. And oh man! I can't believe it! Apparently, someone here mentioned the show in passing. Misha, we're getting Johnny Depp as a guest star."

Coffee-spittle sprayed the air in an arc from Misha's mouth. "WHAT?!"

"I know, right?!" Jared said, grinning, clearly pleased at his news having the intended effect.

"Shit!" Misha replied, not expecting this turn of events at all. "Well... how?! I mean, who in the hell is he going to play?!"

"Think." Jared said with a mysterious smile, giving Misha a tiny nod.

Wracking his brain over the new script, Misha shook his head in return, then his eyes went to Jared's face and his jaw fell. He began to laugh. "No. Fucking. Way?!"

"Way." Jared countered, grinning.

"That's... a complete contradiction, for one thing! That's amazing. So great!"

"He'll be here next week." Jared told Misha quietly solemn. "Don't tell anyone I told you." He lumbered off into the make-up trailer, to get ready for his scene.

But all Misha could do was sit there, stunned, grinning like a Cheshire cat, imagining how life would imitate art when Johnny finally showed him God.


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