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not even schrodinger can answer the schrodinger's cat paradox

By:
pesha (pesha)

For:
Alexis (redtapestry)

Fandom:
Supernatural

Pairing:
Jared Padalecki/Misha Collins

Rating:
NC-17

Warnings:
Adultery? I'm warning for it, just in case.

Notes:
Sorry for being slow to get this uploaded! I hope you enjoy it! Happy Holidays!

Summary:
There is a world in which Misha Collins is selected for Jury Duty. Jared Padalecki has just wandered into that world.

 
Misha was standing on his head, reading The New York Times, while listening to his iPod. Jared approached slowly because he didn’t want to startle the guy and have him break his neck or something. There was no way Jared was going to explain why Misha had a broken neck because of him. The thought of the fan response alone was enough to send him into a panic.
He was going to walk on by without saying anything –just to be safe- but Misha caught him with a look. The days had been long gone since Jared had tried to ignore Misha; he wasn’t the kind of guy to be good at ignoring anyone anyway.

“Hey,” Jared managed, wandering over to stand awkwardly in front of Misha who remained balanced upside down, his back to the wall and feet crossed where his head would normally be.

Misha grinned and said loudly, “You know, you keep trying to ignore me and I’ll just sic my minions on you! I will tweet you, Padalecki!”

“That sounds like a threat!” Jared yelled back.

“Why are you yelling at me?!” Misha asked, again too loudly, his expressive face twisted into a confused expression that had Jared grinning even though it wasn’t funny.

“Because you have your headphones on! And you’re yelling at me!”

Misha’s confused face turned into a grin as he tugged the earbuds out of his ears, “Oh! Right. They’re called earbuds, by the way. Headphones are so 1989.”
Talking with Misha was a bit like eating six Giant Pixy Stix then washing them down with a two-liter of Jolt. That was to say, it was fun for the first part of the rush, but after the initial sugar high wore off, one was left dizzy, confused, and a little sick to their stomach. Jared wondered how Misha’s wife got along with him since she seemed so...so normal.

“I know that,” he stated, smile still firmly in place, “What I don’t know is why you’re standing on your head.”

“Do you know the correct answer to the Schrodinger’s Cat paradox?” Misha responded in lieu of a perfectly reasonable answer.

Jared sighed, “No.”

Misha made a knowing sound, “There are lots of things you don’t know. I was only saying. Did you particularly want to know why I am standing on my head?”
There were plenty of things Jared would particularly like to know...knowing anything about Misha was dangerous. He hesitated before nodding in agreement.

“Sure. Why are you standing on your head?”

“I’m trying to center myself while I read this supposedly brilliant newsprint. It is imperative that I learn of current events quickly before undertaking a task of great importance.”

One day Jared was going to come into work to the knowledge that Misha Collins had been arrested for having tried to overthrow the government in a hostile takeover led by robotic garden gnomes wielding potentially nuclear weapons. He was sure of it. He was also sure that of the millions of things he’d really like to know, he really didn’t want to know what ‘task of great importance’ Misha was going to undertake. Jared was going to ask though because…because he had to.

“What are you going to be undertaking?”

Misha responded with his most serious, Dean-Winchester-must-save-us-he-is-our-only-hope voice, “Jury Duty.”

Really? The government had picked Misha Collins to be a competent juror? Jared started laughing and then he couldn’t stop and he was coughing and standing was hard without oxygen so he let himself collapse to his knees then over onto his side to slap the floor and laugh, laugh, laugh.

He was still laughing when Misha let himself fall forward on top of him. Jared wheezed at the impact and wiped at the tears streaming from his eyes. The world was such a funny place; he really didn’t have any idea why people were always so uptight when things like Misha Collins Got Jury Duty happened all the time.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jared tried, “I just can’t believe they’re going to let you be a juror!”

Misha shoved at him until he was on his back and Misha was straddling him, literally straddling him, and it should have been weird except it was Misha and he was weird in general so it was honestly just kinda normal. For Misha. Misha Normal maybe?

“It was a very intensive selection process involving census information and a highly competitive act of random assignation, I’ll have you know. Show some respect, Padalecki, really. When I overthrow this government, we will have a much higher system of punishment for those who do not show appropriate respect for their leaders.”

Jared choked on another laugh then coughed to clear his throat before asking, “You are completely insane, you know that, right?”

Misha nodded sagely in response, “Yes. I know many things.”

He scooted back from Jared’s waist to rest on his thighs. Jared had no idea what he was doing but he was afraid to ask in case it would set off more laughter and his ribs were already killing him. Then Misha was trying to unbutton his pants.

Jared grabbed his hands and jerked, “Woah! What are you doing? What? Seriously? Misha, man, you are married!”

Misha twisted his hands free and let them fall to rest on his own thighs. Jared’s eyes were drawn to Misha’s crotch before he could stop himself and he forced his eyes back up before he could determine if Misha was really interested in...well, him or if Misha was just being Misha. For all Jared knew, the guy could have been trying to steal his pants for reasons related to that Humdinger Cat theory.

“I know I’m married. I happen to have consciously made that decision, thank you very much, and the wife and I are quite happy together in case you were interested in knowing that.”

“Then why were you trying to take off my pants!”

Jared shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have. Misha had the look on his face that said he was going to answer.

“I wasn’t trying to take off your pants, Padalecki!”

They stared at each other for long enough that Jared began to lose feeling in his feet from Misha’s weight. The guy was solid for his size.

Jared figured he’d already slipped into the fifth dimension, might as well go for broke and try to learn the language of the natives. He decided to go for a direct question. Simple. Straight-forward. Yes-or-no.

“You weren’t trying to take off my pants just now?”

“No.”

“Then what were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to take out your cock.”

Jared flailed backwards hard enough to nearly knock himself out and damnit! He should have stuck with the yes-or-no theory! He couldn’t squirm out from under Misha without actually putting his hands on the guy and that wasn’t something he was comfortable doing just then. Not. Just. Then.

“What?! You’re married, man! You’re straight!

Misha smiled suddenly, as if it was all clear to him, “Oh. You don’t know? I have a very relaxed marriage. It’s why we work well together. We both understand one another’s needs. She needs her work; I need mine. She needs her pursuits; I need mine. She likes other cocks; I like other cocks. It’s very uncomplicated really.”

Jared’s mouth worked as he tried to come up with words that adequately made up everything that was wrong with everything that Misha had just said. He finally made a sound that was basically “flargh” and that seemed to be enough for Misha who stood up, leaving him sprawled on the floor, confused and adrift. Misha offered him a hand and Jared took it before his brain could come up with any of a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t.

Standing, he felt as if he were literally back on firmer, more reasonable ground. Misha was hardly threatening when he was standing. The guy was a head shorter than him. Jared had at least fifteen pounds on the guy. Misha wasn’t even an aggressive guy. He was---

Grabbing Jared’s belt buckle, pulling him forward, and shoving his tongue into Jared’s mouth. His lips were thin and his teeth were sharp and his tongue was wet. Jared opened to say something but Misha’s tongue touched his and Jared felt Misha’s fingers clench on his belt and he was pressing his own tongue forward to slide across Misha’s, feeling like maybe this was the only time he’d understand anything associated with Misha’s mouth. They kissed until his head was pounding, his lips were bruised, and Jared felt higher than a float at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Misha broke away to offer, “I wanted to explain. I’m not good at explaining sometimes.”

Jared nodded, “Yeah. Okay. You have an open marriage and you’re studying for Jury Duty. I understand.”

Misha nodded back, “Exactly. And I’m not a liar.”

Jared was lost again.

“What?”

“You have never tickled my balls.”

Jared’s brain was on vacation. He was fairly sure that it had checked out around the time he’d walked in and seen Misha Collins standing on his head reading a newspaper. For lack of a working brain, Jared went with simple, one-word questions again.

“What?”

“Someone once asked me what it was like to work with you. I told them I tried not to laugh while you fondled my balls. You’ve never fondled my balls. I decided we should rectify that as to do otherwise would make me a liar. Which I am not.”

Jared shook his head hard in an attempt to rattle that idea into place, “But you say all kinds of stupid things. Are you telling me that’s not the same thing?”

“No,” Misha rolled his eyes, “That’s different. I say things with every intention of following through on those things at a later date. Or possibly in a different dimension depending on the topic of choice. It’s occasionally a matter of quantum mechanics much like the Schrodinger’s Cat paradox which we’ve already clearly defined that you do not know the answer to.”

“Do you?” Jared asked, latching onto the one thing that made sense in all of whatever it was that Misha had just said.

Misha managed to work his fingers between Jared’s belt, his pants, his boxers, and onto his cock which –unfortunately- did not care if Misha was married, crazy, or potentially a terrorist threat. Jared groaned as Misha gripped him, jerked them together and tried to unfasten his belt all at once. He was talented. Really talented. Who cared if he was crazy?

“No,” Misha responded, “That’s silly. There’s no answer to the Schrodinger’s Cat paradox. It’s a paradox.”

Between the two of them, they’d managed to unfasten his pants and Jared was kissing Misha again as he worked his dick and Misha’s mouth was crazy but good, very, very good. Misha backed off and Jared was going to say something, something about something, but Misha was on his knees and his crazy, good, good mouth was on Jared’s cock. Misha sucked his dick with the same fervor he devoted to every other crazy endeavor in his life; Jared never stood a chance. It was over embarrassingly fast.

For the second time since coming upon his erstwhile coworker, Jared let his legs collapse beneath him and sank to his knees in front of Misha. He panted while trying to figure out...anything.

“Thanks,” Misha responded, unfastening his pants while Jared watched in something pretty close to shock.

“For?”

“Helping me not be a liar.”

Misha said it as if it were obvious and maybe it was, maybe in Misha’s world this whole thing was perfectly rational and wasn’t that a shit storm of epic proportions? But Jared’s brain was on vacation and all Jared could think to do was hesitantly reach out to trace the veins on his cock, the sharply trimmed hairs framing his balls, and then the velvety soft skin on his balls themselves. Jared was going to wrap his hand around Misha’s dick when Misha laughed and startled him.

“Sorry. Turns out I’m not good at not laughing when you tickle. Oh! Thanks for helping me study for jury duty too. This is a much more relevant current event, I think. The Grand Jury handles prurient cases, I’m sure.”

His dick was thick in Jared’s hand, the skin silky like velvet. Jared stroked firmly up, then rotated on the way down the way that he himself liked it. He was still fixated on stroking Misha’s dick when what Misha had said sank in.

“They’ve selected you for the Grand Jury?”

Misha nodded fiercely, bucked his hips into Jared’s fist, and finally wrapped his hand around Jared’s to guide it up and down his shaft. Jared would have been far, far beyond words, but apparently Misha’s crazy mouth was capable of being crazy even when someone had him literally by the balls.

“Yes. I told you it was a very intensive selection process of magnificently random assignation. Now, less talking. More stroking. We can talk more at our next study session.”

Jared nodded, a grin slowly forming over his face as he caught up with Misha, “We’re doing this again?”

“Oh yes,” Misha breathed, fucking his dick into the tight tunnel of Jared’s fist, “Grand Jury lasts all year. It’s a very…intense process.”

Jared gasped with him and kissed him hard while he came. He waited until Misha’s breathing had returned to normal before finally deciding how to respond. In the end, there was really only one thing Jared could say to logic like Misha’s...

“I look forward to it.”


 Comments

 Left By:
alexis (jupiter)

At:
2011-01-06 03:39:15

 
This is wonderful! Thank you so much for writing this for me!!! I adored how Jared thinks about Misha. I love Misha just being random!Misha, and the porn was wonderfully hot. Just what I wanted. Thanks again!--Alexis (redtapestry)


 Left By:
llaras (llaras)

At:
2011-01-27 18:11:49

 
Thanks for the giggles! Heh. Silly Misha. Poor Jared.


 Left By:
Guest (RepeDonna)

At:
2012-11-12 02:30:40

 
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