Thing is, the whole pregnancy prosthetic problem was not an issue during the writing phase.
And honestly, the difficulties inherent in finding said prosthetic for a woman already four months pregnant was not something that occurred to anyone at at any stage prior to the point when they actually had to start looking for the damn thing.
Like, it’s not a combination of things that ever kept any of them up at night.
But here they are, and here Danneel is, and they are Making It Work even if he’s pretty sure that the Geneva Convention has banned at least six things more comfortable than wearing a giant baby bump over a smaller baby bump.
Or, as Danneel so succinctly put it, “Being double-pregnant sucks ass.”
To be perfectly fair to Misha — a thing which Misha is very much in favor of, thank you very much — he’s just the guy implementing the unholy genius that is the “fetal assist” thing. Directing and co-writing is like being the messenger, right?
So, you know, when Danneel says, “Collins, so help me, I will have your ass for this!” after he asks for another take and wants to make a couple of changes to the angle, he smiles and laughs along. She is, after all, grinning and laughing when she says it.
It’s just that she’s also doing this eyebrow thing that he has literally never seen her do except in Jensen’s presence.
Jensen has warned him about the eyebrow thing.
Jensen is also very far away right now.
Danneel has just targeted Misha with the eyebrow thing.
He has no idea what that means.
Part of him wants to text Jensen and ask him just how concerned he should be. Jensen’s also on set today, though. He’s probably busy.
Misha pulls his phone out.
Eyebrow thing just happened.
Unsurprisingly, Jensen doesn’t reply right away. He gets back to work, and the whole cast is well into the groove again when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Misha completes the take, then gives everyone five.
That’s what you get for shooting something that looks like hardcore fisting.
Misha almost chokes on his water. He supposes Jensen’s got a point.
* * *
They wrap an hour early, and Colin ends up grabbing most of the cast and dragging them along for dinner. Misha hangs back to help close up the set. He doesn’t see Danneel leave, and it occurs to him that maybe she’s off with Colin and the rest.
It’s more disappointing than he expects. For one, he’s never slept with Danneel, and his brain’s been running all kinds of loops of what that could be like. She’s gorgeous and pretty twisted and there’s pretty much no universe in which that wasn’t going to be awesome.
But the real thing that digs at him is that they’re friends and they get along and he was pretty sure about the eyebrow thing, but now he’s feeling almost brutally embarrassed because it looks increasingly like he misinterpreted things.
Even given the overall arrangement, rejection and awkwardness is always an option. Juggling that with three people is work enough. With six? Jesus.
Well, it’s not like Vicki’ll be disappointed when he comes home, even if he did promise her a night to herself to work. He’ll just putter around while she writes, and then go to bed when she does, and things will be good. He can feel not-rejected and not-mortified in his actually pretty amazing life.
So he’s resolved on that. He walks to his car, reassured that while the next few days will probably suck, this whole thing will eventually be funny.
And then his phone buzzes. Danneel.
So are you coming over or what?
Misha swears he hears a record scratch. Like, his brain literally provides him a sound effect because the last half hour of rumination just got exploded because holy fuck, he did not misinterpret the eyebrow thing. He’s about to go have awesome sex with someone who absolutely did not ditch him in socially awkward ways.
He has buried the needle on the gauge of actually pretty amazing lives.
Yeah, he replies, grinning broadly enough his face almost hurts. See you in thirty.
* * *
They eat dinner in front of the TV, going over the day’s work. They’re just about done — one more day on “Suspicious Bulges” and then everything goes to post — and he’s due back in Vancouver for Supernatural in a few days to film the end of the season.
The whole thing feels overwhelmingly normal — he’s been over here a bunch of times, albeit usually with his family in tow and Jensen around — but he knows he’s also talking around the elephant a fair bit. Danneel definiely is. Like, they’re both good actors, but they also know each other reasonably well.
Still, it’s their first time and all. No reason to rush.
He’s helping her clear the dishes when she asks him, “So you know where the bedroom is, right?”
“The, uh, bedroom-bedroom, or the spare?”
She huffs out a little laugh. “Misha, don’t be such a damn prude. Of course the regular bedroom.”
Misha feels his face pink up a little as he laughs. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time this decade anyone’s called me a prude.”
“Go prove me wrong, then. Get in there and get naked. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Okay, so maybe a little bit of rushing is allowed.
Jensen and Danneel’s bedroom is big and comfortable. He sees them both in the clutter: one of Jensen’s ball caps on top of a stack of books and papers, some of Danneel’s jewelry on top of the dresser, pages from earlier in the season. As he srips down, Misha can’t help but wonder whether and how his clothes fit in with that. Do they go on Jensen’s side? Danneel’s? The floor?
Threesomes are definitely less confusing than sleeping with somebody else’s wife solo. Misha stows his clothes in the en suite, and then sits down in the middle of the bed, legs crossed. He strokes himself a little, and his body responds like it’s just as eager as he is to move from theory to practice.
Danneel walks in a minute later. She doesn’t say anything, but she does give an appreciative whistle and wink before she vanishes into the en suite. She doesn’t close the door, but she’s still out of sight.
“So I was thinking today on set about how I have to keep strapping on that damn fake bump, and how it’s a drag, but the finished product is going to be great when it’s done.”
She steps out, nude except for the harness buckled low on her hips. It complements the small round of her belly and he curve of her hips. She strokes casually at the shiny blue dildo that juts out from it.
“What’dya think, Collins? Up for something a little more immediate?”
Misha chuckles and rubs his hand down his face. “This is why you said that thing about having my ass, isn’t it?”
“I was thinking we could start with your mouth first, but yeah, that’s kind of the plan.” She motions him over, one hand on her hip, and he slides off the bed and kneels for her with his hands on his knees.
He wets his lips and then gives the dildo a tentative lick. It’s smooth and kind of cool against his tongue, but it’ll warm up quick once he gets going. Misha peers up through his lashes and licks again, more certain, wetting the underside of the dildo before circling the tip with his tongue.
Things to check off his bucket list: sucking a friend’s pregnant wife’s dick.
Danneel makes a little hum of pleasure when he takes it fully into his mouth. She plays with his hair while he sucks it in deep, then slides back along its length. He rocks on his knees, moving more than just his head. It’s surprisingly easy to get into a rhythm, especially with the way Danneel cants her hips in time with him and moans for him.
“Jensen was right. You’ve definitely got cocksucking lips,” she tells him and scrapes her nails up the nape of Misha’s neck.
He shivers, and his dick twitches, aching to be touched. There’s no reason he can’t do it himself, but he hasn’t moved his hands since he got down here, and as easy as it would be to give himself a little relief, he likes the direction she’s leading him in.
Danneel’s hand slips down along his jaw. She lifts his head and he lets the dildo slip from his lips as their eyes meet.
“Get back on the bed. Ass in the air, face in the pillows.”
Misha turns on the floor and crawls up onto the bed. He plants his knees about shoulder width apart and gathers the pillows up a little in his arms before pressing his face down in them. Danneel opens a drawer on the nightstand.
The mattress rocks when she climbs up onto it and settles in between his feet.
Her tongue on his ass is a surprise. She licks a long stripe up the right curve of his cheek, then gives it a slap. She bites the left and runs her nails across the marks.
Misha gasps at the cold as the first drizzle of lube drips down between them. He feels Danneel’s thumb catch them and she glides it up, slicking him and her thumb at the same time. She drips more onto him and presses just the tip of it inside him.
She rotates it, pushing against the muscles there and he moans low. It feels good. Different from the way he’s been opened up before.
Misha wonders if Danneel opens Jensen up like this, and if she’s fucked him with this dildo, too.
More lube and a deeper push, and her thumb is wholly inside him now. It’s easy and it feels good. He moves along with her and makes little sounds as she slides it in and out to get him slick inside and out.
“Ready for more?”
“Mmn. Definitely,” he says, and turns his head to the side in his nest of pillows.
She pulls her thumb out and slides in two lube-slick fingers. He groans and pushes back, encouraging her.
Danneel laughs. “You really like this, don’t you?”
“Getting fucked feels good. It’s so — ah, fuck, right there — I like having something inside. Being filled up. Nothing else like it.”
She seems to like that answer. Her hand moves in him, more vigorously than just her thumb, and he rides it just as intently, especially when the third finger slips in. He arches and growls, wants her deeper and harder, but instead she pulls her hand away.
Misha whimpers. “Why’d you sto—oh god, yes.”
The dildo is broader and blunter than her three fingers combined, and slick as it is, there’s still a little bit of a burn as it breaches him. It’s not bad. Just a hint of discomfort to make the pleasure even more intense.
Misha digs his fingers into the pillows and breathes through it. Danneel’s hand is warm on the small of his back as she fills him up, one smooth inch at a time. Her body and the leather of the harness is warm against his ass as she pulls him against her, making sure she’s buried to the hilt.
“Fuh-uck,” he whispers, trembling. “So fucking good.”
She strokes his back and sides, which does nothing to stop him shuddering and making little sounds in his throat.
Her first thrust is slow and sinuous, a small glide of the hips out and then in deep again. The second is a longer stroke, more confident. By the fourth he’s moving with her, keening softly in time with the way she’s fucking him. His skin tingles all over, and he’s drunk on endorphins and the motion of their bodies.
Danneel’s hands never quit moving, warm and soft on his ass and his hips, his back, his thighs — anywhere she can reach — and she doesn’t just caress him. She scratches and grips. She teases with feather-light fingertips. She warms him with the flat of her palms.
At no point does Misha forget his dick. It’s just that it seems way less important and too direct and, well, really at this point messing with it is going to be like pulling a trigger, and he’s not ready to stop until she’s ready to make him stop.
She grabs him by the hips and grinds against him, then pulls him back, almost onto her lap. He reaches back and plants his hands on her thighs for support as she reaches around him to scrape her nails up his thigh, stopping just short of his groin. Misha whines in his throat at the denial as he bounces to her rhythm. She nips little marks on his back, then runs her fingers up the other thigh.
It takes him a second to understand what she wants when she holds her hand palm up near his chin. She has to tell him twice — “Spit, Misha. Come on.” — but he does what she asks.
Danneel takes that slick from his mouth and wets the head of his cock with it, mingling it with the traces of lube on her fingers and the slippery damp of precome. She grips his shaft with her other hand, then works the head of him in her slick palm.
He feels his orgasm build quick: a shudder in his thighs, a pleasant, hot sensation in his belly, his balls tightening up. When he comes, he growls through clenched teeth and grinds down as hard on the dildo as he dares, fingernails digging into Danneel’s thighs.
When she lets go of him, he lets himself fall forward onto the bed. He moves his legs to one side of her and pulls her down beside him and kisses her on the mouth.
He doesn’t linger. Instead, he trails his kisses down her jaw to her throat, where he sucks lightly at the tender skin, but not enough to mark. He nibbles her collarbone as he cups her breast. He sucks and teases each of her nipples with his tongue while he caresses her.
Misha kisses her belly, which as gestures go is complex enough he’s going to need a chalkboard to really parse it out, but it makes his chest hum with affection.
The buckle of the harness opens under his hands and he slides it away so that his tongue can dart between her legs. She’s so wet that when his fingers slip inside he can’t help but moan his amazement up against her clit.
Which, to judge by the way Danneel gasps and arches, is not at all unwelcome. He curls his fingers and presses, and feels her tremble, like she’s already close to coming undone.
Misha stills his hand and teases with his tongue until Danneel gets wise to him and grabs his hair. After that, he gives up all restraint, sucking and lapping at her while she rocks on his hand.
She moves her hand to his shoulder and leaves matching marks to the ones he left on her thighs when she comes.
They nestle together on the bed, and doze. Danneel pulls the blanket up around them at some point, and Misha snuggles up close, one arm around her waist.
In the morning, they take turns in the shower. Misha steals one of Jensen’s t-shirts, and helps cook breakfast. They take different routes to the set, with Misha getting there first by about ten minutes.
That afternoon, when they wrap and they get her out of the prosthesis, Danneel gives it an almost wistful look.
“I’m not going to miss that thing,” she says. “Still, I kind of liked having an excuse for bad behavior.”
Across the set, Colin snickers. “You need an excuse?”
“Personally, I find bad behavior very rewarding,” Misha says, and smiles.
Danneel may or may not do the eyebrow thing.