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I Can Dig Elvis

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“Twist and Shout?”

As soon as the words left his lips and projected through the room, the sea of fans in the audience below exploded into a range of cheers, unintelligible screeches, and what Jensen swore sounded like sobs.

He wrinkled his nose in confusion, furrowing his brow. He’d never heard of a book by that title, but considering the person who’d asked him whether he’d read it or not was a fifteen year old girl with his face emblazoned across her chest, he figured they might have different tastes in literature.

“Isn’t that a song by the Beatles?” Misha quipped from beside him, looking equally as unknowledgable as he felt. The audience laughed, but it felt as if they were sharing an inside joke within themselves rather than laughing at what his co-star had said. Not that it was funny, anyways.

Jensen chuckled, his expression still clueless, “I can’t say I’ve heard of it before. Is it a popular book, or…?”

The crowd enthusiastically shouted “Yes” in a collective fashion, hollering and whooping for the sake of making noise.

Jensen raised his eyebrows at the crowd’s response, “Well then I guess we’ll have to look into that.”

At that the crowd exploded once more, and Jensen vaguely wondered whether he’d need to get his hearing checked after the panel. He smiled, nonetheless, the excitement radiating from the throng of fans beneath him was contagious.



“So dude, what do you think that whole ‘Twist and Shout’ thing was about?” Jensen asked from the leather couch of Misha’s trailer, a cold beer nestled in his palm.

Misha shrugged as he flicked through the channels, languidly spread out with his feet propped up on the coffee table, “No clue.  Honestly I’m a little scared to search it up. Did you hear them?  As soon as you uttered the title everybody in the audience collectively shit themselves.”

Jensen snorted, raising the beer to his lips and taking a long swig. “They’re pretty nuts, for all we know it could be some kind of dungeon porn.”

“Most likely. Let’s look it up.”  Misha leapt up with a twinkle in his eye, and Jensen found himself rolling his eyes. The man was ridiculous.

Misha’s fingers danced across the keyboard of his laptop, scrolling through the results as they popped up onto the screen. Jensen had gotten up and followed him to his computer, and was now peering over his shoulder, skimming through the results.

“I knew it was a Beatles song.” He comments under his breath, referring to the multitude of links leading them to lyric sites and wikipedia pages. After several results, however, the word “Supernatural” jumps out at them.

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak-” Misha read aloud, chuckling a little under his breath, “Should’ve known it’d be something like this”

Jensen hummed in agreement, his eyes still focussed as he continued to read the short synopsis under the link.

“Woah dude this sounds kind of cool. Dean would be a good soldier, don’t cha think?”  He tilted his head to look down at his friend, who shrugged in response. “I wanna see what they made Castiel, I don’t think he’d be an angel.”

“Why not? Remember that episode… what was it, season five? Takes place in the seventies. Maybe it’s got something to do with that.” Jensen countered, raising his eyebrows at him. Misha returned the expression, a small half grin on perched on his lips. Whenever him and Jensen debated, no matter what the topic, they would squabble good-naturedly for hours just to prove themselves right. This would obviously be no different. “I don’t think so, doesn’t seem like it would fit.”

Jensen scoffed, “How would you know? You haven’t read it, have you?”

Misha shook his head, “Not yet, but I have to now so I can prove you wrong.” He dragged the mouse across the desktop and clicked the link, a website embroidered with deep scarlet lighting up the almost-dark trailer.

“Well now I gotta read it too, or else you’re going to make something up to get your way.” Jensen grumbled, padding into the mini-kitchen and dragging a chair across the floor to the computer desk. Misha was looking at him with feigned shock, hand placed over his heart dramatically, “You wound me.”

“Yeah yeah, shut up. Let’s just read the damned thing.” he nudged Misha with his elbow and the corners of his lips quirked as Misha shoved him back.

They sat in mostly silence for the next half hour, slowly scrolling through the story at a pace they could both keep up at. They made comments here and there like “Jen, Cas is obviously human.” and “It’s only the first chapter, Mish. Patience young grasshopper.

They moved onto the second chapter quickly, Jensen insisting that Castiel was going to sprout wings and smite Dean.

“But Jensen they’re in looove” Misha teased, bringing a beer bottle to his lips, his voice echoing through the glass bottle, “He would never smite his beloved Dean Winchester.”

“I dunno man, he seems like kind of a dick.”

“That’s probably just the actor who plays him.”

Jensen chortled and went to push Misha off his chair, but only succeeded in putting him slightly off-balance.

“Quick dicking around asswipe, we’re never gonna finish by tomorrow’s panel if you keep getting your panties in a bunch.”

They continued reading through, and only fifteen minutes had passed when they stumbled across the first love scene. Sure, there’d been that scene in the alleyway, but that had just been kissing. In this scene, ‘Dean’s hand slithered under his waistband and curled around Castiel’s dick’. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing over at Misha to gauge his reaction. His face was enraptured in concentration. He could’ve been reading an article on political science and his expression would undoubtedly be the same.

This wasn’t a… normal situation. Normally, guys didn’t read gay fanfiction with other guys. Normally, guys didn’t read gay fanfiction about their characters with other guys. The former was weird enough on its own without taking into account that the characters had their appearances. By association, he was picturing himself shoving his hands down Misha’s pants.

He swallowed and cleared his throat, “Uh...Mish? Could we um- skip this part?”

Misha tore his gaze away from the screen and directed it at Jensen, momentarily dazed at being pulled away from his reading, “Why?”

Jensen sighed, knowing Misha would take this opportunity to fuck with him. “It’s just sort of an- awkward scene.”

“Why? Because you’re imagining it as us?” Jensen was sure he imagined Misha’s voice had dropped an octave lower, his blue eyes piercing his own in something more than amusement. Jensen swallowed uncertainly.

“Not on purpose. I mean, Castiel looks like you and Dean looks like me, so I can’t really help it.”  he rushed out the words in one breath, scowling as Misha grinned mischievously at him, obviously enjoying himself by watching the other man squirm.

“Alright fine, you big baby.” Misha finally relented, his index finger rolling down the scroll bar to resume their place once Dean and Cas had… finished.

They continued on through the next couple chapters, Misha obediently scrolling past all the love scenes that followed. Other than the explicit parts of the story, Jensen thought it was pretty good so far. The author had been spot-on with Dean’s characterization, or at least how Jensen saw Dean’s characterization, but he was sure no one knew Dean better than him.

Misha commented on Castiel’s character as well, Jensen humming in agreement. He wasn’t as awkward or as powerful as the real Castiel was, but considering the setting and plot it wouldn’t make much sense to try and incorporate those traits.

Five hours later as the clock struck midnight, Dean was drafted into the Vietnam War. Jensen would never admit to the lump in his throat as Castiel fell apart at the news, literally crying over spilt milk as Dean tried to calm him. It only got worse from there; as Dean was shipped overseas and witnessed the death of Adam, came back a broken man and began to drag Castiel down with him, and the fateful night Dean had left without a word.

He took in a shuddering breath as the emotion of the story washed over him, looking over at Misha and was relieved to find he wasn’t the only one being affected by the story. Misha hadn’t made any playful jabs in a while, and he could see the white light of the computer screen reflected in his watery eyes.

By the time they’d finished reading Balthazar’s explanation of Castiel’s ten year downward spiral, both men had silent tears flowing down their cheeks. And to think they’d gotten emotional over the actual show’s story arc. The raw pain and devastation paled in comparison.

And then came the references to the beach, and Elvis, and suddenly, Castiel was dead. They could barely read the words in front of them through their tearful eyes, but they carried on until the very last line.

Dear Cas.” Misha read out the last line, and they both stared at the monitor in silence for several minutes, tears still leaking from the corners of their eyes.

“What the fuck was that.” Jensen said after a while, his voice deep and rough with emotion. Misha barked out a laugh, hesitantly opening a new tab and logging into twitter.

'See you then.' he typed out, clicking the ‘enter’ key and snickering to himself sadistically.

“You heartless bastard.” Jensen exclaimed, his voice still thick with emotion, and swatted Misha’s arm. Within minutes his notification tab was blowing up, more so than usual. Misha grinned to himself and powered down the computer, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was almost five in the morning, but the sun hadn’t risen yet.

“We should get some sleep after that traumatizing experience.” He trilled, earning him a soft chuckle from his co-star.

Jensen suddenly felt as if his limbs were filled with lead, exhaustion pouring over him in buckets. His mind was languid and sleepy, buzzed from the beer they’d consumed earlier. “Yeah, yeah sure. Mind if I crash here, though? Too tired to walk to my trailer.”

“I don’t mind. But you’ll have to sleep on the couch.”

Jensen snorted, pulling himself into a standing position, swaying as his muscles protested to movement, “Dude, we just read a gay romance novel about ourselves together. I’m pretty sure sharing a bed isn’t much worse than that.”

Misha considered for a moment and shrugged, “As long as you don’t leave in the middle of the night and I don’t hear from you for ten years.”

His bloodshot eyes sent daggers at Misha, who merely cackled in return.

Together, the two of them trudged to the other end of the trailer where Misha flopped on the twin bed, fully-clothed, burrowing himself under the covers with a contented sigh.

“So tired.” He mumbled into the pillow and Jensen hummed in agreement, climbing in after him. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.



Jensen woke up the next day with one of his legs between Misha’s, his body draped across the shorter man’s slim figure, his head rising and falling with each breath Misha took. He froze, tilting his head cautiously upwards and moving his gaze across Misha’s features. Thankfully, he was asleep.

He’d never noticed how beautiful the other man was before, and wondered vaguely how that could ever be. Jensen found himself enraptured in Misha’s features, feeling an alarmingly strong desire to lean down and kiss him.

Misha stirred beneath him, his eyelids twitching, and Jensen jumped back as if he’d been shocked. He lost his balance and collapsed on the floor with a thud, his face red and mumbling curses under his breath.

“Jen?” his voice was grumbly with sleep and Jensen swallows, angrily pushing the lingering thoughts about his best friend to the back of mind because since when did he think Misha’s voice was hot?

“Yeah?” he replied meekly, propping himself up on his elbows to see over the mattress. Misha was sitting up and squinting myopically at him, his t-shirt slightly disheveled from Jensen sleeping on it.

“What are you doing on the floor?” he asked, tilting his head in a gesture so similar to Castiel that Jensen felt his heart skip a beat.

“Nothing.” He replied quickly, clearing his throat, “I just- uh- fell.”

Misha looked at him, his eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep, and rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever.  What time is it?”

Jensen almost let out a sigh of relief, raising his left arm to check his watch.

“Quarter to ten. Panel’s at one, we should get going.”

Misha nodded, throwing the covers back and swinging his legs over the side, reaching his arms up and stretching. Jensen ignored the thoughts that raced through his minds as Misha’s shirt rode up, pulling himself to his feet and stumbling out of the trailer with a hasty farewell, dashing to his own before he did something really stupid.



Jensen tapped through his phone, for loss of anything else to do, as he sat backstage. Usually he had Misha for company, to banter with and prepare before going on stage, but he hadn’t seen him since he’d fled his trailer that morning. Had he seen Jensen staring at him? Had he felt Jensen draped across him, arm curled protectively around his waist and head nestled into his chest?

His mouth went dry and he shoved the cellphone into his pocket, his leg bouncing up and down nervously.

Misha didn’t show up until five minutes before they were meant to go on, out of breath and absent-minded.

“Sorry I’m late- just organizing some things.” He panted, dropping into the chair next to him.

Jensen shrugged, relaxing at Misha’s conversational tone. From the looks of it, he didn’t know what had happened. “Don’t worry about it, as long as I’m not stuck up there by myself looking like an idiot, I’m happy.”

“You look like an idiot anyways, whether I’m there or not.” Misha replied dryly, smiling. Jensen rolled his eyes, but felt a strong surge of fondness overcome him.

“-now make some noise for Jensen and Misha!” The stage manager announced from onstage, shaking him from his thoughts. That was their cue to come on. He leapt up and stepped onstage, Misha right behind him. As always, the crowd was a deafening sea of clamouring fans. He could barely hear the first notes of the song that trickled from the speakers.

Jensen narrowed his eyes, racking his brain to place the song title. The audience seemed to be doing the same, dying down and straining their ears.

Wise men say-

Jensen’s eyes widened and he swung around to look at Misha, who was staring at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. The crowd, upon recognizing the song, surged with newfound enthusiasm.

Misha stepped forwards and held his hand out to Jensen, grinning at him nervously. Jensen met his gaze and felt his pulse quicken. He gingerly reached forwards and grasped Misha’s outstretched hand, who immediately pulled him in and grabbed his waist with his other hand.

The crowd was going nuts, but all Jensen could hear was his heart pounding rapidly. He wouldn’t be surprised if Misha could feel it through his chest. He found his hand snaking up to rest on Misha’s shoulder of it’s own accord, and then they were swaying together as the music played on.

Take my hand, take my whole life too-

Jensen was drowning in Misha’s impossibly blue eyes, which he’d admired in the past but now they were locked on his passionately and it took all of Jensen’s willpower not to melt right on the spot.

For I can’t help, falling in love with you-

And then Misha’s lips were on his, sweet and chaste.  The shock of the kiss left Jensen momentarily frozen and Misha moved back a little. He quickly regained his motor functions and Jensen kissed him back sweetly, parting his lips, oblivious to the hysterical crowd beneath them.

Misha pulled back, resting their foreheads against each other.  He smiled blissfully up at him, his cheeks flushed red.  Jensen returned it completely, feeling happier than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

“So, Jensen, would you say you can dig Elvis?” he trilled with an arched eyebrow, only loud enough for them to hear.  He giggled, his own cheeks heating up.

Oh yeah, he could definitely dig Elvis.