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Misha isn’t sure how Jensen does it, but here he is, dead asleep in a lawn chair, surrounded by screaming children.

Maison and West are a little older now, but no less rambunctious. They’re curious and confident and full of ideas for adventure, only fostered by their own adventure-seeking parents. Their hyperactivity was only amplified when JJ was around, both of them wanting to be more interesting so JJ would pay attention to them. JJ, for her part, seems to like to play with them both equally, but they wouldn’t be Misha’s kids if they weren’t at least a little competitive.

“Should we take him to a doctor or something?” Misha asks Danneel as they both watch the kids circle Jensen, darting towards him and away again. It seemed to be an involved game of ‘poke the bear’, with Jensen cast as the bear. “It’s not healthy for him to sleep through this, is it?”

Danneel shrugs, taking a sip of her beer. “I think he’s just getting old, babe.” He snorts, rubbing at his own hair, graying despite the last dyeing he’d had to endure to keep Castiel looking timeless.

Danneel ignores him and gestures to Vicki, asleep stretched out on a blanket, the twins on her chest. “You don’t seem nearly as concerned about your wife’s ability to sleep through this nonsense.”

“She’s always slept like that. And she’s got the warm weight of two sleeping two year olds.” Misha frowns, a little jealous of Vicki. Arrow and Zepp were always so happy to see her.

Danneel nudges him with her elbow, correctly reading his expression. “You know it’s just because they never see her while you’re over all the time.”

Misha grumbles but nudges her back, letting his arm settle around her waist. She sinks into it, leaning her head on his shoulder.

They’ve long since stopped tweeting and instagramming pictures of family outings, the fun of stirring up the fans not nearly as satisfying as it once was. But they still get together rather often for cookouts and hangouts and vacations. Vicki can’t get away as frequently, leaving Misha to schlepp West and Maison off to the Ackles’s home or left in their own home, alone to entertain while they visited. He always has a good time with Jensen and Danneel but he misses his wife a lot. Misha’s sorely tempted, now, to post a picture of his sleeping lovers and kids, just to have Vicki involved for once.

He doesn’t, though. Both of them would kill him.

“What do you think the little rugrats are doing?” Danneel asks, pulling Misha back into the moment. She’d wound her own arm around his waist while he hadn’t been paying attention and squeezes his hip when he doesn’t respond right away.

They seem to have abandoned their game of ‘poke the bear’ and are now playing tag, though still running back to Jensen periodically.

“I think Jensen is base,” Misha guesses, watching as Maison all but throws herself at Jensen’s stomach. West stamps his foot and turns on JJ, who shrieks a laugh and runs away.

She makes a wide loop around the yard, coming back to Jensen as soon as she sees Maison has left him. She skids to a stop, laying a tiny hand on his thigh.

West tags her, crowing in victory.

JJ stamps her own foot, using her tiny arms to gesticulate some kind of argument. When West just laughs again and shakes his head, the five year old stomps over to where Misha and Danneel are wound together.

“Uncle Mish,” she whines up at him, tugging on his shorts.

Misha sighs, letting go of Danneel and stooping to his knee. “What’s up, Birdie?”

“West says I’m it even though I was on base.” She crosses her arms and pouts. Misha melts just a little.

“You weren’t on base.” West argues, jumping on Misha’s back where he’s crouched. Misha grunts a little with the impact. “She wasn’t on base, Dad. Base is Uncle Jensen’s tummy and she was touching his leg.”

Danneel chokes a little and Misha deliberately avoids looking at her. “Base was Uncle Jensen’s tummy?”

Maison nods, having come over with everyone else so as not to be left out. “Momma says we can’t bring the beanbag chair outside but Uncle Jensen’s tummy is big and soft too.”

Misha could feel Danneel shaking with silent laughter behind him. He tries to ignore her.

He looks at JJ. “Is that true, Birdie?”

She pouts but nods, not making eye contact with Misha.

He smiles at her, pulling her in and blowing a raspberry on the side of her face. She giggles, kicking her feet.

She’s still laughing when he lets her go. He pulls his son off his back and sets him down with the other two.

“How about this, kiddos. What if I’m it for this round.”

Three cries of agreement go up and Misha immediately starts lumbering after them, Danneel laughing joyously behind him. They all shriek and scatter, ducking behind trees and picnic chairs.

He’s definitely too old for this, but he manages to catch Maison after about three minutes, her incessant giggling giving up her hiding spot easily. As soon as she’s it, Misha shoots off towards Jensen, collapsing onto this stomach with a laugh.

Unsurprisingly, Jensen is startled awake with a pained ‘Oof!’

“Mish. Fuck. What the hell?”

Misha loops his arms around Jensen’s neck, trying to snuggle himself with Jensen in the tiny lawn chair. Jensen automatically brings his hand up to Misha’s lower back to steady him. “Just playing the game babe, never you mind.”

“What game?”

“Dad, you can only be on base for five Mississippi!” West cries. And one person on base at a time!”

Jensen blinks. “I’m base?”

“Not all of you.” Misha winks, lovingly patting Jensen’s stomach.

Jensen flushes, grumbling.

“Let me up, let me up.”

Misha kisses Jensen on the temple before heaving himself to his feet, Jensen behind him, and all of the kids groan.

“We can’t play tag if there’s no base!” Maison complains. Misha catches West eying his mother and the sleeping twins.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warns, pointing a stern finger at him. West sticks out his tongue.

“Why don’t we make s’mores?” Jensen offers, distracting the kids and sending them into a delighted tizzy.

Danneel looks at him, unimpressed.

“It’s already 85 degrees and the middle of the day.”

She’s outvoted by the kids and Jensen chanting “S’mores! S’mores! S’mores! S’mores!”

She rolls her eyes but makes her way to the firepit, inspiring the children to cheer and run after her.

Jensen laughs quietly, throwing an arm around Misha’s shoulders as they follow more sedately. He glances over her shoulder to the shady patch of grass where Vicki and the twins are still napping. “Should we wake them?”

Misha shakes his head, nuzzling Jensen’s chin just a little. “Nah, let them sleep.” He brings his arm up to rub at Jensen’s stomach as they walk. “This way, there’s more s’mores for you.”

Jensen shoves him a little but doesn’t let him go, rubbing at Misha’s hand over his stomach in silent agreement. Misha laughs.