The tension had always been there. All those drunk nights they'd wander around whatever town they were in, gigging and taking pictures, having a grand ol' time, just the two of them. They never officially gave it a name, even though they both knew what it was.
But they made sure that nothing drastic ever happened between them. They both had wives, kids, their own lives, their own homes, and they knew better than to mess everything up no matter how bad they wanted to.
That's what they always told themselves, anyways, reciting it to the other when they caught them staring for too long, or when they moved a hand too close to a dangerous area.
Of course they could only stand it for so long though. Feelings always got the best of everyone, even them. They were the best of friends, and it was destined that they would become just a little bit more...
Jensen was on his knees in his trailer, reaching a hand up to Misha as he stood before him, “Cas, it's me.” They were running lines for the next day, just like they did almost every night after a long day of shooting. “We're family.”
He couldn't help but watch that bob in Misha's throat as he swallowed, licked his lips. Concentrate, Jensen. Green eyes back up to lock with blue, which was a mistake; he looked so fixated on him, which he should be, right? But... it was different this time. Probably because he knew what was coming.
“We need you.” Misha shuffled his feet, moved a fraction closer. They didn't even need their scripts for this part, god knows they've been over this scene so many damn times because woah – the writers went there and they had to make sure to get it just right.
Jensen didn't even know if he'd be able to choke it out when they were actually filming, but right now when it was just the two of him, he was sure he could do it. “I need you.” They were just words on a page, two fictional characters talking on a fictional show, “I--”
Jensen's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, eyes slightly wide. Finally he closed his mouth, took a few swallows and tried again, “I lo--”
A blink and Misha was out of character, “Jen?” The man kneeling before him looked panicked, his cheeks flushed, “Everything okay?”
He shook his head quicker than he probably should have, but he kept quiet.
“Hey,” Misha lowered himself to Jensen's level, put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “Hey, it's alright. We can call it quits for tonight, we've got this down anyway.”
“No,” his voice was like gravel, crawling up his throat and spilling out from his mouth, “we're almost done, come on.” They were both exhausted, but with a hand to his elbow, he pushed Misha back up and took a breath, readying himself. “From the top.”
They took it nice and slow, running it all the way though, sans the fighting and the Naomi stuff, to where they had stopped before, “Cas, it's me.” Misha watched with that glazed looked, knowing Cas was flickering between two different places, “We're family.”
Jensen could feel his heart skip a beat as Misha's eyes slid into focus now, shining bright in to his, “We need you.” His palms were sweating and his arm was shaking as Misha held on to it, “I need you.”
Suddenly it was 20 degrees hotter in his trailer and his head was fogging. He was wrong, he couldn't do this even in private with his best friend, let alone in front of the rest of the crew. Blinking rapidly, Jensen looked down and away, shaking his head while muttering something under his breath.
“Jen, it's okay. We can leave it out, we don't--”
“I love you.”
The trailer when quiet for a few moments, their bodies still.
“...what?” That wasn't Jensen's Dean voice, that was so much lighter and smoother and he wasn't...
“I love you, okay? You stupid son-of-a bitch, I love you.”
Jensen wasn't in character.
He wasn't in character and Misha didn't know how to process this, fuck, he couldn't process this. Did Jensen know what he just did?
“Mish?” His voice was a broken squeak, “Say something, man. Pleas--”
“I love you too.”
Jensen couldn't believe it, couldn't believe any of it, that he just told Misha what he had been feeling every damn day for the past however long and Misha said it back .
Without even thinking, Jensen got to his feet, put his hands on Misha's jaw and full-out kissed him right on the mouth, his lips moving just the slightest, capturing the other's and giving a slight pull.
It took a moment for Misha to react, but when he did, all it was was a loud whine, his hands gripping at the sides of the other's shirt.
Jensen's breath hitched, “I'm sorr--”
“No,” Misha didn't want him to stop; he had been wanting this for so damn long and he wanted Jensen to know that, know how much he meant to him. Now it was his turn to kiss him, gripping his sides as he forced him back towards the couch, the two of them landing on it with a plop.
The minutes passed as they made out, fingers gliding through hair and legs tangling. It wasn't a sexual kiss, not really. They weren't rolling or grinding against each other or anything, even though they could obviously feel the other pressed right in to their hip. It was a loving kiss is all, a desperate, needing kiss of just wanting the other in their arms, never to go away.
Misha yelped when Jensen tickled his side, just needing to see the way the man's nose crinkled up when he laughed, “Jen! Please! No!” He was squirming, fighting, threatening to roll them off the already too cramped couch, “Please!”
Jensen gave the man a break and shifted them on to their sides, Misha's back against the cushions. He nosed his best friend's temple, smoothed a hand over his hair, “God, I'm so happy.”
A huff of breath, “Me too,” before Misha tucked his head under Jensen's chin, arms sliding around him to pull him even closer, “I love you. More than you know.”
Jensen had to close his eyes when he said that to him, his heart swelling in his chest. He buried his nose is Misha's locks and kissed his forehead, “I love you too, now get some sleep. We've had a long day.”
Misha had to look up one more time before he let sleep take him; he saw the way Jensen was smiling, the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and the freckles splattered across his skin. He put a hand on his jaw, felt over his stubble, and gave him one last soft, tender kiss before he rest his head on the other's chest and let himself fall asleep snug in the arms of his best friend.