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A Marine Bivalve Mollusk

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“Are they aware of how…in love they are?”

Jensen shoves Misha, and he trips a couple of steps before veering to his right and pushing into Jensen’s side shoulder-first. 

“Just wait for it.”

“What exactly are we waiting for?”

“Shh, shh,” Jared says in mock condescension to Felicia. She’s obviously not on set often enough if she’s asking these questions.

“Oh my god,” she breathes as Jensen wraps his arm around Misha’s neck and pulls him down to ruffle his hair.

Misha escapes and jumps on Jensen’s back. Jensen starts trotting like a horse, and Misha wraps his arms tightly around his neck and buries his face down close to Jensen’s.

“Yeah, it gets worse,” Jared comments, totally jaded by this situation.

“No but seriously, are they aware?” Felicia returns, still sounding shocked.

“Just keep watching.”

As they get to the row of trailers, Jensen lets Misha down gently and reaches back for his hand. Misha takes it in his and sidles up so close to Jensen that Jared and Felicia can’t even see where their hands are undoubtedly connected in front of them.

“Damn,” Felicia says.

Misha turns his face to Jensen’s ear, and Jensen angles his head down to listen to the whisper.

“What are they saying? Jared, what are they saying?”

“You really want to know the answer to that question?”

Jensen throws his head back and laughs while Misha tugs on his hand and tries to shush him through his satisfied smile. They disappear behind a trailer as Jensen continues laughing.

“Fuck! Oh my god.” Felicia walks to the side to try to get a better look.

“Just wait,” Jared offers.

“But I can’t—”

Felicia’s cut off by the sight of Jensen being pushed backward between trailers, Misha’s hands on his chest and their mouths working together hungrily.

“And there it is.”

“Do they…do they think they’re being subtle?”


They disappear again, but then they reappear when Jensen pushes Misha into the back corner of another trailer and attaches his mouth to his neck. 

“Do they know that people know? I mean, everyone knows, right?”

“Everyone is very good at pretending like they don’t know.”

As if on cue, a hair and make-up girl passes by right in front of Felicia and Jared without even looking to see the spectacle happening less than 20 feet to her left.

Misha moans rather loudly, definitely loudly enough for the crew members eating lunch a few yards away to hear. None of them react. Jensen looks around nervously anyway, as if he’s just now realized they’re in public. The concern is short-lived as Misha slots a leg between his. 

“This is freaking ridiculous,” Felicia says almost angrily.

Jared just laughs.

“How many years have you put up with this?”

Misha pushes Jensen back again and tries to kiss his way up the steps of his own trailer. He ends up giving up and lifting Jensen around his waist in order to make it through the door. It shudders on its hinges as he closes it with his foot.

“I got used to it during Misha’s second day on set.”

Chapter Text

There’s a part of the coat fanning out in the back, and Jensen can’t help but reach forward and smooth it out.

Misha turns and raises an eyebrow at Jensen’s hand. “What are you doing?”

“Coat. Fixing it.”

“It’s been like that for the last four takes.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.”

Misha sighs and turns back around.

Jensen eyes the A.D. standing off to their right before reaching forward again, but this time he pinches Misha’s ass. The A.D. doesn’t react.

“Jensen,” Misha hisses without turning again.

“Food after this?”

“I would love to if I could ever get out of here today. If only I worked with people who didn’t make it impossible to—”

Jensen crowds up behind him and hooks his chin over Misha’s shoulder as he slides a hand down to his crotch, making sure the coat is blocking the view.

Misha makes a guttural humming sound like he’s annoyed but not opposed to what Jensen’s doing. He even goes ahead and covers Jensen’s hand with his own to get the right pressure.

“Think they’re wondering why we can’t get this shot down?” 

“I think they know exactly why we can’t get this shot down, Jensen. There is really no other viable excuse for why we can’t walk through a door.”

Jensen kisses the spot behind his ear and moves his free hand up to Misha’s other shoulder to knead the muscles there.

Misha works deliberately on Jensen’s other hand, knowing there’s no way he can get off right now but doing his damnedest in the meantime.

“And, action!” 

“Shit,” Misha groans, shoving Jensen away from him and scrambling to make sure they hit their mark.

Jensen just laughs as they push through the door.

Chapter Text

“I like these pants, are they new?” Misha grabs a handful of the stretchy fabric and twists until he can see the outline of Jensen’s leg.

“No,” Jensen says before grabbing Misha’s face between his thumb and forefinger to bring his attention back to their make-out session.

They kiss for half a second before Misha pulls back again. “Well, I’ve never seen them.”

“Mmm.” They kiss some more.

“Are you wearing underwear?”

Jensen pulls back, looking annoyed and ready to chastise a small child. “Yes, Misha, I’m wearing underwear. Can you focus, please?”

Misha sits back on his heels and raises an eyebrow at Jensen.

“I said ‘please,’” Jensen mumbles.

Misha rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around Jensen’s neck to continue the kiss. They’ve only got a few more minutes before they have to be back on set, so maybe Jensen’s impatience is actually valid.

By the time they’re five minutes late (if they run), Jensen is hard beneath Misha and their shirts have been cast aside. Misha grinds his hips onto Jensen’s lap and buries his face in his neck with a frustrated groan.

“You OK, Mish?”

“Your dick is killing me.”

“Yeah, yeah, later. Get off. C’mon, time to go.”

As they scurry to at least look somewhat presentable (Misha doesn’t tell Jensen that his t-shirt is on backward), Misha asks, “Did you read over the mockumentary script?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Just curious what you thought.”

“You want me to be some bathrobe-wearing, yoga vegan hippie. It’s funny, I like it.” Jensen finishes his thought with a kiss to Misha’s forehead.

Before Jensen can bolt out the door, Misha grabs him by the arm and says, “Wear those pants the day we shoot. The ones you’re wearing now.”

“Um, OK. Whatever you want, babe.”

The mockumentary shoot isn’t until a few months later, and by that time Misha has completely forgotten that he asked Jensen to wear those ridiculous sweatpants that leave literally nothing to the imagination.

It’s an extremely busy day of both directing and starring in the 30-minute video, so Misha only gets about six minutes of free time to drag Jensen into his trailer and dry hump him against the wall.

“Whoa, cowboy, what’s up with you?” Jensen asks with a laugh.

Misha’s already dropping to his knees and yanking Jensen’s sweatpants and boxer briefs down when the nickname catches up to him. “Fuck. I keep forgetting to return that cowboy hat to Kelly.”

Jensen laughs harder even as Misha wraps his lips around the head of his cock. “You should put that in the video. Let fans interpret it however they want.”

Misha pulls away with a pop and looks up at Jensen in annoyance. “I think you know what they want.”

“Then let’s give it to them,” Jensen says darkly while pulling Misha’s face back toward his cock.

(To be fair, Misha’s a champ at deepthroating. He prides himself on being able to take any cock and making the dude come in record time. But Jensen…he’s never quite encountered a cock as intimidating as the one currently hitting the back of his throat.)

“Off. All right, off,” Jensen grumbles, shoving Misha’s face away from him. He shuts his eyes and keeps his weight up against the wall as he furiously jacks himself to completion and heaves a sigh of relief. “We did not have time for that.”

“You hit your underwear,” Misha deadpans.

“Fuck.” Jensen kicks his sweatpants and underwear off all the way and tosses the dirty underwear across the trailer before yanking his sweats back up.

Misha stares.

“Dude, what?”

“Nothing. We’re going to be late.”



“Oh my god.”


“You saw that?”

“Everyone’s going to see that.” Misha takes a sip of his tea to hide his smug smile. He chances a glance over at the girl playing Gina, and sure enough her mouth is hanging wide open.

“Are you the one who told him to wear those pants?” she asks.

Misha drinks more of his tea and stares ahead at where Jensen is filming his interview segment of the mockumentary. After way too long of a pause, he answers, “No, that was his decision.”

Gina mutters, “Was it his decision not to wear underwear?”

Misha turns to her and winks in response.

Chapter Text



“I didn’t even see all your mentions to me the other night.”


Misha rolls his eyes and turns his phone toward Jensen. Jensen squints at the screen before laying his head back down on his backpack.

“So? What else am I supposed to say during episodes?” Jensen asks, sounding somewhat affronted. 

Misha huffs a laugh and keeps scrolling through his phone. Within minutes, Jensen is snoring softly, his ball cap falling over his face. Misha makes sure his phone is on silent before snapping a picture of his best friend. He adds it to his snapchat story with the caption, “delayed flight :(”. He yawns and mindlessly scrolls through his replies on Twitter. Of course he can’t keep up with all of them, but it’s still nice to check every now and then.

Most of them are nonsense, but he comes across a few that catch his eye. Specifically, people thanking him and Jared and Jensen for another great convention in Chicago. Yeah, it was a good one, he thinks. 

Then he starts remembering all the other good times they’ve had in Chicago in previous years. Well, mostly good times. There was of course that one where he hadn’t seen Jensen in months, and they had no idea how to act around each other during the convention. It wasn’t until they were tipsy one night and suddenly everybody had left Misha’s room so it was just him and Jay and everything happened really fast and it was like they had never been apart and—

“Mish,” Jensen mumbles.

“Yeah,” Misha replies noncommittally, thinking Jensen is probably just talking in his sleep.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

“Oh, excuse me. I’ll just head over to the Cinnabon so as not to disturb your precious sleep, your majesty.”

Jensen sighs and sits up, turning his cap around backward while he does so. He looks Misha up and down like he’s trying to assess his mood. 

“Do you think we should tweet something about the convention?” Misha asks as he looks back down at his phone.

“What? Why?”

“I mean, we usually do, don’t we? Like, don’t we thank the people who attended and tell them how much we appreciate them, etcetera? Isn’t that something we do?”

Jensen drops his head into his hand and starts rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

“Misha, c’mon.” He jerks his hand like he’s frustrated. “I’m too fucking tired for this.”

Misha waits an uncomfortable amount of time, thinking Jensen might apologize for overreacting.

“You’re waiting on me to apologize, aren’t you?”


Jensen clears his throat and scoots across the floor until he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Misha. He knocks their heads together playfully and reaches out to Misha’s phone, covering his hand so they’re holding the phone together.

“Yeah, I guess we should say something,” Jensen admits.

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, Jensen dropping his chin to Misha’s shoulder while they think.

“You think of something, I‘m too tired,” Jensen grumbles into Misha’s shirt.

“You know, I’ve gotten just as little sleep as you have this week.”

“Oh, please. As if it isn’t your fault we stayed up all night.”

“Excuse me? You were the one being all needy and handsy and not letting me sleep until I fucked you.”

“Shh! Jesus, Mish.” Jensen warily looks around.

They sit in silence some more, looking at Misha’s phone together until Jensen gets bored and pulls out his own. 

“Why don’t you follow anybody, dude?” 

“It keeps me shrouded in mystery.”

“You dork.”

“Babe, are you jealous? That I’m not following you?”

“No! No. Just wondering.”

“I can’t believe you’re jealous about how I conduct myself on Twitter. Do you want to be able to direct message me or something? Is texting and tweeting at me and facetiming with me all the time not enough for you? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“All right, you know what?” 

Jensen scrambles to snatch Misha’s phone out of his hand, but Misha hides it behind his back and squirms away. Undeterred, Jensen wraps his arms around him and grabs his wrist with one hand while trying to locate the phone with the other. He leans forward so their faces are only inches apart, and they stop for a moment and smile at each other. Jensen glances down at Misha’s lips and leans forward a bit more, but Misha turns away and holds his phone over his head.

“We’re in public, Jay,” he whispers regretfully.

Jensen smiles even wider and yanks Misha’s phone out of his hand. It’s another minute of fighting, Jensen pressing buttons and Misha reaching wherever Jensen moves. A few people nearby turn to see what’s going on, but Misha doesn’t care at this point.

“Goddamn it, Jensen,” Misha says when he finally gets his phone back.

He quickly unfollows the six people Jensen had followed, the first of those accounts of course being himself. Jensen slumps back down toward his backpack and yawns. He turns his hat forward and squeezes the bill between his hands.

“So, you going to tweet something or no?” 

“Wow, you’re lazy.”

“What? It was your idea in the first place. You tweet, I retweet. Win-win.”

“Do you even know how to retweet?”

“Shut up.”

Their flight is finally announced over the loudspeaker, and they quickly get to their feet and head toward the line. They have first class tickets, so they don’t have to wait for four or five other zones to be called before they’re allowed to line up.

Misha types out his tweet while they’re on the jet way, and he hits “post” without thinking.

Jensen’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out immediately.

“Dude,” Jensen says.

“What? That’s what you get.”

“No, it’s—I don’t care that you sound like a fucking prick.”

“I am not—”

“Did you not think about how suspicious it sounds when you wrote it?”

Misha goes to his profile and reads the tweet a couple of times. He doesn’t say anything.

“It’s kind of late at night to be talking about us hanging out together, don’t you think?”

Misha still doesn’t say anything as he deletes the tweet.

From behind him, Jensen laughs. 

“Don’t say it.”

“Say what? How you’re going to be the one to out us one day?”

They get to their seats and settle in for the flight back to Vancouver. 

Misha turns to Jensen and says, “You better fucking tweet something right now, asshole.”

“I already did. You would know that if, you know, you followed me.”

As they listen to the safety instructions a few minutes later, Misha is suddenly struck with another memory from Chicago all those years ago. 

The picture he tweeted late at night. After they had fooled around and fucked for three hours straight and were basically incoherent and high on endorphins, Misha had tried over and over to get a good picture of Jensen naked and sprawled out on the bed. When he accidentally took the close-up of his eye, he thought it was the funniest shit that had happened all day. 

Jensen had not been as cool and level-headed when that tweet was sent out.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Mish, check this out.”

“Shit, Jensen, did you follow me in here?”

Jensen shoves his phone in his face, ignoring the fact that Misha is peeing at a fucking urinal. 

Misha squints at the screen and sees a picture of a t-shirt that says, My ideal weight is Jensen Ackles on top of me. “Why are you showing me this?” 

“Don’t know. Christmas present?”

“For me? Is this going to be like that time you got me a fan-made mosaic of your face and told me to hang it up in my apartment?”

“You did that.”

Misha tilts his head up in thought. “Oh. Right.”

“Anyway, it’s funny. Thought you’d look cute in it.”

Misha tucks himself away and turns to face Jensen. “So you followed me into the bathroom to tell me to wear a t-shirt announcing that I want you to sit on me? Classy, Jay.”

“Another one, too. Look.” 

Again, Misha squints at the screen and sees a t-shirt that says, Run like Jensen Ackles is waiting for you at the finish line. He tries not to smile at it and fails. “Where are you even finding these?”

“Fan mentioned them today. You could wear it when you run. Most of your running shirts are worn out anyway, you could use some new ones.”

“My running shirts aren’t worn out.” Misha walks over to the sinks and turns one on.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Misha glares at Jensen through the mirror, but Jensen is smiling down at his phone like a moron.



“Did you need anything else, or did you just come in here to bother me?”

“Oh! Uh…” Jensen laughs and closes the distance between them, wrapping an arm around Misha’s waist from behind and kissing the back of his neck. “Haven’t seen you much this weekend, just missed you,” he mumbles into his ear.

Misha spins around and grabs Jensen by the hips so he can pull him forward for a real kiss. Jensen makes a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, and Misha awkwardly smiles around his lips. They press up against the counter desperately, Jensen caging Misha in and peppering his neck and jaw with kisses. 

“We should—we need to get back. People are—going to—wonder why—”

Jensen pulls away and rolls his eyes. “Buzzkill.”

Misha cocks an eyebrow at him and reaches for his hand.

“What are you—”

Jensen promptly shuts up when Misha directs his hand around his back and down the waistband of his jeans. Misha lets go, and Jensen keeps reaching until he’s not reaching anymore and his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“I knew you were walking weird,” Jensen whispers almost angrily.

Misha shrugs and turns toward the door. “I just thought we could have a little fun before we fly out. If it wasn’t for your dumb t-shirts, we might’ve had time right now. Oh well…”

Jensen follows Misha like a lost puppy, reaching for his hand but then abandoning the motion once they’re out of the bathroom. As they walk past fans, they both have to resist the urge to clasp each other’s hands.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Jensen whispers.

“Quit thinking about my asshole, Jensen. That’s inappropriate.”



The photo op line seems to be getting longer and longer as time wears on. Jensen's having a good time, but he keeps making eye contact with Misha and every time he does his neck gets hot and he's sure his ears turn red. Jared has stood in the middle of them for most of the ops, and about half an hour into it he starts looking back and forth between them with a confused expression on his face. 

"Are you guys OK?" he asks quietly while Misha grabs a sip of water.

"Hmm? Yeah. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Oh god, I don't even want to know."

"Know what?" Misha asks when he returns.

"Nothing," Jensen and Jared say in unison.

Jensen has sweat pouring down the side of his face for the last few ops, and Misha winks at him and smiles and adjusts his hips and Jensen is actually going to kill him.

Jared ignores them. He's probably the only one who looks remotely normal in any of the pictures.

When the photo ops are finally done, their handlers inform them that they have about an hour before they have to do autos. As subtly as possible Jensen stares at Misha and jerks his head toward the door.

Luckily Misha gets the hint and walks out with Jensen to the sound of Jared yelling behind them, "It's cool, guys! I'll catch up with you later! Thanks a lot!"

They don't speak a word to each other as they walk through the hotel with their handlers. They are left alone on the elevator together and still don't say anything. They walk down the hall to Jensen's room, still silently. 

Once they get to his room, Jensen shoves Misha through the door and catches him as he stumbles, sealing their mouths together and pressing Misha up against the wall. He immediately shoves his hand down the back of Misha's jeans and circles his fingers around the butt plug. Misha laughs and drops his head back, so Jensen latches his teeth to his neck and considers giving him a hickey.

"Do it, Jay."

Jensen pulls away and looks into Misha's eyes.

"That'd be something, wouldn't it? The rumors it would start. Do you think anyone would believe that a 41-year-old man could have an honest to God hickey on his neck?"

"Mish. Shut up."

"People would probably assume I fucked a young fan, some lucky 20 something I picked out of the crowd at a con. Our fans have those fantasies about us, don't they? How many of them do you think fantasize about fucking us? Wait, do you think more of them fantasize about fucking us or us fucking each other?"

Jensen growls, throws Misha over his shoulder and tosses him on the bed. Misha just laughs as Jensen pounces on him and starts ripping his pants off.

Misha gasps and tries to take purchase in Jensen's hair when he reaches underneath him and slowly pulls out the butt plug. He takes his time removing it, staring at Misha's face to make sure he isn't hurting him. When it's all the way out, Misha sighs and opens his eyes. He smiles at Jensen and pulls up for a quick peck on the lips.

"Get in there, cowboy," he teases.

Jensen kisses him hard one last time before sliding off the bed and clumsily kicking off his jeans and boxer briefs. Misha leans up on his elbows and bites his lower lip, staring at Jensen's package and leaking precome onto his stomach. 

"Like what you see, huh?" Jensen asks smugly as he takes himself in hand and rubs up and down his shaft a few times just because he knows it drives Misha nuts.

"Yeah, yeah, you have my favorite dick in the world. Now get over here and use it. We only have an hour."

Jensen excitedly jumps back on the bed and then remembers that he doesn't have any lube. He's just about to go search through his duffel bag when Misha produces a bottle out of seemingly nowhere and holds it out in front of his face. Jensen decides not to question it and gets right to work coating his fingers. He slides two in easily, Misha arching off the bed and scratching his back hard enough to leave a mark.

"What do you think the fans would say if I had scratch marks all over me?" Jensen asks.

Misha drops his mouth open in a fake scandalized expression and pushes his hips down to get Jensen to go deeper.

"Oh, all right, I see how it is," Jensen concedes as he works a third finger into the tight heat.

Misha shuts his eyes and bites his lip again, and Jensen almost gets lost in watching him. Almost.

"Turn over," Jensen mumbles eventually.

Misha silently obeys, flipping onto his stomach and stretching himself out in preparation.

Jensen coats himself in lube and slides in faster than usual, pulling a surprised gasp out of Misha. "You all right, sweetheart?"

Misha nods enthusiastically.

Jensen adjusts the angle to where he knows he can get the deepest, and then he begins thrusting slowly. He shuts his eyes and focuses on how amazing Misha feels, and his body starts tensing up immediately as if he's already ready to come.

He's not alone in it, either. Misha keeps unintentionally clenching to the point where Jensen can only fit about half his length inside of him without being pushed right back out, and they both shake with laughter realizing how ridiculous this is.

"Can you just come already?" Misha asks impatiently. "I'm gonna fall asleep."

Jensen pounds into him in response, making him tense up and drive his body down into the bed. Misha starts panting and jacking himself impossibly fast, and he writhes so much that Jensen struggles to find any regular pace. After a few minutes Misha comes and clenches so hard that Jensen follows right behind. He doesn't bother pulling out, and Misha hums contentedly as come fills him up.

They collapse on the bed together, Misha curled into Jensen's side with a hand shoved up his shirt. 

"We didn't even take our shirts off," he comments in a raspy voice. "Have we really reached that point in our relationship?"

Jensen kisses the top of his head and squeezes him tight. "At least your shirt is decent."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"'s not some ugly sweater or pastel pink pants?"

Misha flips onto his back away from Jensen and crosses his arms over his chest. "I wear a fucking butt plug for you, I always dress nice around you, I let you pick my goddamn clothes..."

"All right, all right. I get it. Gonna be late. C'mon."

Just as Jensen stumbles out of bed and tries to pull Misha up with him, there's a knock on the door. 

"Shit, what the fuck?" Misha spits.

"Coming! Just a second!" Jensen shouts as he yanks his boxer briefs up. He snaps his fingers at Misha and then points toward the bathroom. He doesn't wait to see if Misha is out of sight before he goes to the door.

One of their handlers is waiting on the other side, looking slightly terrified. 

"Sorry, something wrong?" Jensen asks with his hand up high on the edge of the door and his other hand on his hip like it's completely normal for him to be having this conversation in his underwear. Thank God they didn't take their shirts off.

"You-you're late to your autograph session, Mr. Ackles. By about half an hour."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, give me just one second and Mish and I will be right down."

Jensen winks and closes the door.

He freezes.

Goddamn it, not again.

Chapter Text

“God, you’re a dick these days.” Jensen walks to his next mark and sighs. “Fine. I’m in.”

“You give yourself over wholly to the service of God and his angels?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Say it.”

“I give myself over wholly to serve God and you guys.”

“You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own dad’s?”

Father. He was supposed to say father. “Yes, I swear. Now what?”

“Now you wait, and we call on you when it’s time.”

As soon as Misha finishes the line, Jensen begins counting in his head. There’s a crane next to them that begins moving up as they stare at each other and stare at each other and stare at each other.

He counts to 20 before Singer yells “cut.” 

“I meant to say ‘father,’” Misha whispers mostly to himself as the hair and make-up ladies fix their faces for the next take.

“You’ll get it next time,” Jensen replies with a jovial smack to Misha’s arm. “Great take otherwise.”

Misha doesn’t respond, and Jensen replays what he just said in his head to see if anything could’ve offended him. Before he can really start to worry about it, the scene is reset and they’re saying their lines all over again.

Jensen messes up this time, so much so that Misha busts out laughing and they have to reset immediately. It takes Jensen a while to stop smiling, and he briefly wonders why it’s such a big deal to him that he made Misha laugh so hard.

The guy’s been in 10 episodes in the past seven months, and so far Jensen has no idea what to think of him. Usually with guest stars it’s all easy professional camaraderie that eventually turns to friendship if they’re around long enough. 

With Misha, though, it’s just been confusing. His first day on set, Jensen hardly talked to him. Probably because he was spending so much time talking behind his back, asking people what the hell the new guy was doing and if he really was an actual actor and not some random guy they picked from a crowd or some shit. His subsequent days on set Jensen tried to be nice enough, but Misha would just sort of wave him off or make a snarky comment which was ridiculous because nobody wearing outlandish, brightly-colored sweaters should be that stuck-up.  During filming for most of Castiel’s episodes, Jensen spent several days at a time simply fantasizing about buying Misha a new wardrobe.

The worst part was when Misha’s contract was extended and suddenly he and Jared became friends. Jensen would try to hang out with them and join in on their joking between takes, but Misha just refused to warm up to him for some reason. After a while Jensen chalked it up to method acting, believing that Castiel wasn’t supposed to get close to Dean and therefore Misha wasn’t supposed to get close to Jensen.

But now they’ve been filming episode 21 of season 4 for what seems like forever, and this particular scene between Dean and Cas has felt like days of work when really it’s just been a few hours. Jensen can recite both his and Misha’s lines as well as both of their tracks. Still, Misha remains stoic.

And for some goddamn reason Singer wants this enormously long crane shot of Dean and Cas doing nothing but staring at each other. It’s not the first time Jensen’s disagreed with some direction, but it’s definitely the first time he’s disagreed simply on the basis that it makes him uncomfortable. 

“You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father’s?”

“Yeah, I swear. Now what?” He was supposed to say “yes.” Damn it.

“Now you wait, and we call on you when it’s time.”

One, two, three, four, five.

Misha squints extra hard.

Six, seven, eight, nine.

A fly lands on Misha’s cheek. A smile pulls at his lips.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Jensen tries to blow the fly away.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

Misha closes his eyes and shakes with laughter.

Bob Singer calls “cut” and walks over to them with his hands folded together and his eyes trained on the ground.

“Boys, can you give me a little more…” He makes a flippant motion with his hand to finish his sentence.

“Yeah, Bob, sure thing,” Jensen replies.

Misha nods and then waits for Singer to turn away before making a confused face at Jensen.

“What?” Jensen asks.

“Ah, yes, let me just do a little more—” Misha does an exaggerated imitation of Singer’s hand motions. 

Jensen throws his head back and laughs so hard that Singer turns around to see what’s going on. 

“Shit, Jensen, you’re going to get me in trouble,” Misha whispers through laughter.

“Sorry, sorry. You—have you been going along with what he says without actually knowing what he’s saying?”

“To be fair, this is the first episode I’m in that he’s directed. I’ve been staring at him blankly for three days now.” Misha looks over to where Singer’s sitting and then turns back to Jensen. “What’s with this fucking crane shot, anyway?”

Relief swells in Jensen’s chest. “No idea, dude. It’s awkward, right?”

“So awkward. Why would any two living beings stare at each other for longer than 20 seconds?”

“You counting, too? The most was 27.”

“I counted 28 a few takes back. I just don’t under—”

The scene is reset, and they are Dean and Cas once again.

This time, however, they barely make it five seconds into the staring contest before they both crack smiles at each other.

During the next take, they break down laughing around the 10-second mark.

Misha looks incredibly determined to keep a straight face the next time, and so it's Jensen who breaks first.

“Shit, Jensen, I was trying so hard!”

Next take, Jensen decides to be a dick and makes a kissy face at Misha. 

Misha immediately begins laughing.

A seductively raised eyebrow here, a lick of the lips there, miming a blow job in the next, bedroom eyes—

Singer gets so upset with them that he calls for 10.

With a shy smile at Misha, Jensen heads to his trailer. 

He just openly flirted with his costar and passed it off as a joke. Cool.

Almost the second he shuts the door of his trailer, there’s a knock. He opens it to find Misha standing on the other side, Cas’ trench coat draped over his arm and his hair messier than it was a minute ago.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

“May I come in?” Misha asks, and it’s the shiest Jensen has ever heard him.

“Yeah, of course.”

After the door shuts behind them, Misha says, “Do you think we’ll actually get this scene wrapped sometime tonight?”

“If we quit goofing off, maybe.”

Misha smiles brightly and rubs the back of his neck. “You know, I was under the impression that you didn’t like me very much, but I had a lot of fun with you today.”

“You thought I didn’t like you? I thought you didn’t like me, dude.” 



Misha sighs and holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Misha Collins. You’re very attractive, and it intimidates me. Please be my friend.”

Jensen takes his hand and shakes it hard. “You…think I’m attractive?”



"Yes, I swear. Now what?"

"Now you wait, and we call on you when it's time."

It's not seconds this take, it's an eternity. Misha squints for the entire duration, his jaw clenching ever so slightly after a few seconds. Jensen glances down at his mouth but the crane is a mile away now so the details don't matter. He breaks eye contact and shakes his head, knowing that it's in character for Dean to do so. 

Singer calls it quits, says that's a wrap, and suddenly Misha is turning away from Jensen presumably to head back to his own trailer.

"Hey!" Jensen calls without thinking.

Misha turns back and smiles softly. "What, you think we need to do a few thousand more takes? Let's call Bob back over here. Hey, guys! Pull the crane back!"

"Dude, come on. I was just—ugh, forget it."

"Wait." Misha grabs Jensen's jacket sleeve to stop him from leaving. "Please, go ahead."

"You wanna get a drink with me?" He says it so fast he's not exactly sure what he said.

Misha's smile grows, and Jensen's heart sinks. "Yeah, I know a place down the road."

Misha starts walking away, so Jensen jogs to catch up with him. "You know a place? You've been in Vancouver for all of five minutes."

"For this show, maybe, but my wife and I have spent a lot of time here over the years. You know production of Supernatural is not the only thing that happens in this city, right?"

"All right, but who the hell goes to Vancouver on vacation?"

Without missing a beat, Misha answers, "People who don't film a television show here nine months out of the year."

Jensen doesn't respond, but when he looks over at Misha he finds a smug smile on his face. He's never noticed before how much the man smiles. It's overwhelming.

"You're staring, Jensen."

He tears his eyes away and mumbles an apology.

The bar Misha knows is one Jensen has passed by a few times but never thought anything of it. It's small and dark and nobody bothers them, and by his fifth beer Jensen is bumping shoulders with Misha and leaning in to talk to him even though it's not loud enough to warrant that kind of behavior.

"Hey, so you're married?" Jensen asks stupidly, right after Misha's told an entire story about his wife.

"Um, pretty sure I've sufficiently answered that question over the course of this evening, but it sounds like you're asking in order to start a bigger conversation. Does it somehow matter to you that I'm married?"

Jensen swallows a lump in his throat and blatantly stares at Misha's lips. 


"Hmm? No! No, dude. 'Course it doesn't matter. Just...wondering." Jensen hangs his head and stares down the neck of his beer.

After a few awkward minutes of silence, Misha says, "You know, when I got this job, um, Vicki said I better be careful."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Misha knocks back the rest of his beer and comically slams it down on the bar. "It means you're very attractive, and my wife knows me too well."

"I'm...I'm not..."

Jensen has no idea what he's trying to say. Misha is staring at his lips with a glazed expression and Jensen is leaning forward without a single thought in his head.

"Jensen," Misha whispers.

Jensen doesn't snap out of it. He can feel Misha's breath against his face. 

"We're in public, and you are mildly intoxicated," Misha continues. "As much as I like where this is going..."

He finally snaps out of it. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I, uh, I..."

Misha leans back and squeezes his shoulder. "We can, um, talk about this later. If you want. But how about right now we get you home."

Heat rushes to Jensen's face as the realization of what just happened hits him. He's unsteady on his feet, so Misha supports him with a hand to his back. He feels like he should say something to make this situation less embarrassing, but he knows he would just make things worse. 

Misha drives Jensen to his apartment and doesn't even get out of the car as he drops him off. Jensen falls into bed feeling really damn stupid.



It's 6 a.m. and Jensen is standing outside of Misha's trailer trying to decide if he should knock or if he should just—

"Jensen? What are you doing out here?"

"I, uh, I..." Jensen stares at Misha's backward tie and swallows.

Suddenly Misha is grabbing Jensen by his sleeve and yanking him into his trailer. He shuts the door behind them and casually asks, "What's up?"

"I was just—I was wondering, um—"

"Oh wait, I almost forgot something."

Without warning, Misha grabs Jensen by the back of his neck and reels him in for a kiss. His lips are chapped and his face is scruffy and he moves too fast and pulls back too quickly.

Misha turns away and wipes his mouth. "Glad we had this talk."

Chapter Text

Danneel is emptying the dishwasher when there’s a singsong knock on the door. She slides the lower rack back in too fast, curses as it gets stuck before sliding into place, and rips the rubber gloves off her hands and onto the floor before opening the door.

“You OK, Jay? You look different,” Misha greets as he slips past Danneel and into the apartment. 

“What do you mean? I thought he was with you.” Danneel follows Misha into the kitchen, picking up her gloves on the way.

He grabs a bag of almonds out of a cabinet—the bag Danneel knows Jensen buys just for him. He pops a few into his mouth before answering, “He’s not responding, so I figured I would drop by and see if I could find him. I had no idea you were even in town. Is J.J. here?”

“I just put her to bed a few minutes ago.” Danneel slips her rubber gloves back on and begins cleaning off the dishes still in the sink. “Can you believe there’s two of us and we still manage to lose him?” 

“Well, you know him—elusive and unpredictable. Truly a man shrouded in mystery.” Misha joins her at the sink, rolling his sleeves up and grabbing a sponge.

“Do you think we should be worried? Is he avoiding us?”

“Is it possible he knows we’ll clean up the mess he calls an apartment if he stays out long enough?”

“Yeah, what the hell is that about? Is he this messy all the time and is just on his best behavior when he’s home with me?”

“Depends on how busy of a week he’s having. Judging by the state of these dishes, he’s at least cooking for himself instead of eating something out of a can.”

“You haven’t seen him much this week?” She starts loading the dishwasher. 

“I just got here two days ago, so no.” He turns and leans back against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. “He didn’t mention you were coming up here, what’s the occasion?”

“Uh, you want the real answer or the bullshit answer?”

“That sounds awfully suspicious.”

With a sigh, Danneel joins Misha against the counter. “I flew up here yesterday because I haven’t seen my husband in three weeks and I’m horny.”

Danneel expects a laugh, a smile, some dirty joke. Instead, Misha stares straight ahead and asks, “Do you want my help?”


Misha turns and looks at her, his eyes briefly drifting down to her body before settling on her face, one eyebrow slightly raised. “If Jensen decides to show up, he can join us. Win/win for everybody.”


Finally, Misha cracks the smallest of smiles as he leans down and whispers, “Remember the boat trip?” 

“Yeah—yeah, Mish, but…it’s never just been, you know, the two of us.” 

“Exactly. This might be our only opportunity.” 

They stare at each other. Danneel licks her lips, a subconscious reaction to looking too closely at Misha’s chapped ones. It’s been a long time, way too long, since she felt those lips on hers. On both sets of hers.

“Let me, um, go check on J.J. Just—at least text Jensen before we…”

J.J. is, of course, sleeping peacefully and hasn’t moved from the spot she was in when Danneel put her to bed. Danneel sighs and pulls her hair back in a ponytail. As much as she tries to deny it to Jensen, she’s a little bit in love with his boyfriend. Also, more immediately, he’s here and Jensen isn’t.

Another also…he’s better at oral than Jensen.

Misha is smiling down at his phone when Danneel comes back into the kitchen.  

She doesn’t ask him what he’s smiling at before closing the distance between them and pulling him down by the back of his neck for a kiss.

Misha makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he grabs Danneel right below her ass and lifts her up around his waist. 

Unlike Jensen, Misha isn’t shy. He immediately uses tongue, expertly moves his mouth against hers, doesn’t stop for any unnecessary eye-fucking. Not that Danneel has anything against her husband’s gentler tactics, but sometimes she wants it rough and fast and just on the positive side of controlling. Misha’s mouth is also different than Jensen’s—bigger, dryer, coarser lips and scruff, much longer tongue. He bites her bottom lip every few minutes, and she wonders if he learned that from Jensen or if Jensen learned it from him.

When they get to Jensen’s bedroom, Misha unceremoniously drops Danneel on her back and reaches for the fly of her jeans. Danneel swats his hand away and starts unbuttoning them herself.

“Don’t want you getting any ideas about you being in charge here,” she says. 

“Fair enough,” he mumbles, eyes fixated on her crotch.

She smiles and arches off the bed to pull her jeans down, and Misha gets them past her ankles and onto the floor for her. He runs his hands up her thighs, eyes still glued to her slightly more exposed crotch. (If she had known this was happening, she might’ve put something other than white cotton panties on. Oh well.)

He looks up at her face, silently asking if it’s all right to touch. Instead of just nodding, she grabs his hand from off her thigh and moves it toward her panties. 

As he slowly rubs his four fingers over her crotch, he bites his lower lip and takes a deep breath. Danneel arches up into his hand and can feel the wetness of the cotton as Misha presses against it.

“You weren’t kidding about being horny,” Misha says. 

Danneel replies by taking his hand again and shoving it down the front of her panties. Misha laughs and moves two of his fingers in slow circles, the rest of his hand spread out across her crotch and his thumb hooked around her thigh.

“Your hands are bigger than Jay’s.” 

“My fingers are longer. Do you want me to...?” He presses the tip of his finger inside of her to finish his question.

She nods and pushes up, forcing his index finger deeper inside of her. 

“God, you’re wet.”

She giggles in response.

After a few minutes, he pushes her panties completely off, adds a second finger and finds a perfect rhythm. Danneel is shaking and taking in short, stilted breaths, and Misha doesn’t let up until her whole body starts to feel numb and she closes too tightly around his fingers for him to continue. He backs off immediately, stroking three fingers over her in a long line before gently teasing the area around her clitoris. She calms down, her heart slowing and her body relaxing into his touch. She closes her eyes and holds her hair in one of her hands, and the next thing she knows there’s a tongue circling her clit.

“Oh god, Jens—Misha.”

Misha’s tongue stops its movement for a moment as he stifles a laugh.

“Shut up.” Danneel smacks the top of his head.

Misha repositions himself, sinking lower and hooking one arm under her thigh and up the side of her stomach. He fits his other hand behind his mouth, sliding a finger into her and circling it inside of her in the same rhythm as the flat, heavy side of his tongue around her clit. Her stomach tightens in anticipation for her building orgasm, and she curls her toes to stave it off for a few more minutes. She tries to focus on something, anything besides the mechanics of what Misha is doing to her. If she concentrates too hard on what’s happening to her vagina then she’ll lose the pleasure and kiss her climax goodbye.

So instead, she thinks about Jensen. She imagines kissing him and squeezing his ass and having his strong hands all over her skin. She thinks about how he always bites her neck before moving his mouth to her breasts and peppering them in kisses, and how he always sucks each of her nipples into his mouth which makes her wetter than anything else. He always asks, “May I?” when he wants to be inside her, and it’s so hot that he’s genuinely ruined the phrase for her.

Misha speeds up his rhythm, presses a second finger inside of her, puts more pressure behind the movement of his tongue.

She pictures Jensen and Misha, thinks back on the time she caught them in a dark hallway in Misha’s house after the kids had gone to bed, remembers the want low in her belly as she watched Jensen pushing Misha up against the wall and slotting a leg between his before sealing his mouth to his neck. She remembers the way Misha dropped his head back and moaned with a soft smile on his face, how he pulled Jensen back by the hair to kiss him on the mouth. It was slow and soft and when they pulled away they smiled at each other, and that was when Danneel backed her way out of the hall and let them have their moment. 

Whatever Misha’s doing is too much, Danneel is too sensitive, and he somehow seems to sense that and backs off. He goes back to teasing her with his fingers, staring at her face for a sign to pick up the pace again. Her stomach lurches a couple of times and then her body relaxes, and Misha’s mouth is on her again.

Her fantasy returns to her and Jensen in bed, except this time Misha is there, too. They are both touching and kissing her and fighting for her attention while occasionally stopping to kiss one another. Jensen starts rubbing her clit and Misha smiles and leans down to put his mouth on her and—

Danneel’s body tenses up, her stomach turning over and over as her orgasm washes over her. Misha is relentless, his tongue and fingers working together to carry her through it. She grips his hair tightly and tries to remember how to breathe as her body completely relaxes. Misha stops, pulling up and smiling at her while he runs his fingertips up and down her crotch to try to relieve the sensitivity. Her body shudders a couple more times with the aftershocks before she finally calms down.

She smiles lazily at Misha, who huffs a laugh and continues to delicately stroke her. They don’t say anything to each other for a while, and eventually Danneel starts daydreaming about a round two.

“You’re still wearing a shirt,” Misha comments.

“Oh yeah, I always forget about that.” She pulls her t-shirt over her head and throws it on the floor. “Do you think Jensen ever washes these sheets?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“There a reason why you sound so sure about that one, buddy?”

He avoids making eye contact and smiles. “We change them immediately after fucking, and we fuck a lot.”

“Hey, that’s my husband you’re talking about.” Danneel turns her leg so she can bump Misha in the back with her foot. 

“Speaking of, at what point should we start panicking that we don’t know where he is? What time is it?”

“Shit, you’re right, do you have your phone? I don’t know where mine is.”

Misha frowns and looks longingly down at Danneel’s vagina. The vagina that he’s still lovingly massaging. 

“You seriously care more about my vagina than about Jensen?”

“At the moment…?” He finishes his question by working his middle finger around her entrance and pushing in to his first knuckle. 

Danneel groans and grips the sheets with both her hands. “This is…not…productive…”

Misha hums and dives his face in.

Not that Jensen isn’t great in bed, but Danneel rarely gets to do the whole “multiple orgasms” thing. She’s generally too tired after round one and oftentimes she doesn’t even want anyone near her after she comes, nonetheless touching her. During their honeymoon she and Jensen had so much sex that she made him sleep on the couch in the suite their last night there.

But for some reason tonight she feels like she could go forever. Probably because of how horny she is, but also maybe because Misha hasn’t whipped out his dick yet. So far he’s doing everything right out of Vicki’s playbook (her practical, real-life-situations playbook—not her actual book) and making her wonder if sex without dicks really is better or if she’s just more bisexual than simply bi-curious. 

She’s shocked out of her train of thought when Misha’s tongue flexes to a tip and probes incessantly at her clit. A shiver washes over her and she wants to scream but she knows they have to be somewhat quiet.

Second orgasms always take longer, especially for someone who never even has second orgasms, so by the time Danneel starts to feel close she has no concept of how much time has passed or where she is or which way is up.

She knows that she’s writhing on the bed and that Misha is having a difficult time keeping his tongue and fingers in rhythm, that he is digging his hands into her thighs—hands? How does he have two hands on her thighs and one in her— 

It’s more intense this time, a surprising sensation of pleasure that lasts for at least 10 seconds. It rolls through her from her head to her toes until goose bumps rise on her skin and a hysterical laugh is pulled out of her. She wipes sweat from her brow and runs her fingertips over her stomach.

“Nice of you to join us,” she says with her eyes closed.

Jensen surprises her with a kiss to her lips. “Nice of you two to start without me.”

“You taste like vagina,” she responds. 

Misha appears behind Jensen, snaking his arm across his chest and hooking his chin over his shoulder. Jensen leans back into him but keeps his eyes on Danneel.

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t notice when you guys switched,” she says.

Jensen and Misha turn to each other and giggle. “I might’ve given him a few tips since the last time you two had sex,” Misha announces.

“Well, my vagina thanks you.”

Jensen clears his throat, and it’s then that Danneel realizes Misha has a hand on his boxer briefs.

“Should I give y’all a minute?” she asks, trying her best to sound fake annoyed.

“Mmm,” Jensen replies.

Misha locks eyes with her and asks, “Would you like to watch?” 

A shiver runs down Danneel’s spine, and she wonders how the hell her body could still be into this. She sits up and presses her hand on top of Misha’s, which makes Jensen gasp. “I’d like to participate.”

A grin splits Misha’s face, and Jensen’s eyes go wide. They get Jensen out of his underwear and push him back against the headboard. Danneel straddle his lap and presses her clit to the underside of his shaft, and he hardly has time to buck up before Misha comes in from the side and starts jerking him off. It goes on for a few minutes, Jensen a complete mess under Danneel and Misha’s ministrations and Danneel impossibly feeling like she could use another orgasm.

“Baby...babe, c’mon…” Jensen squeezes Danneel’s hips and fruitlessly pulls her forward.

“What is it, baby? What do you want?” she teases. 

He whines incoherently.

Danneel gives Misha a look, and he reads her mind and forces Jensen to lie down flat on the bed. He then straddles Jensen’s chest, facing Danneel so he can play with her breasts and make out with her.

Jensen curses in protest, so Danneel lifts up and repositions herself to sink down on his cock. He shudders beneath her, and she has to stop kissing Misha because she can’t focus on anything besides her husband’s cock filling her up and making her see stars. They stay silent for a couple of minutes, hardly moving and relishing in the feeling of one another’s bodies.

“Mish…” Jensen whispers, and Misha smiles and winks at Danneel.

“Yeah, Jay, I’m here.”


Misha rolls his eyes and lifts up on his heels so he can sit on Jensen’s face. He immediately drops his jaw and rolls his head back with a loud moan, and Danneel really wishes she had a better view of whatever Jensen is doing to his ass.

“Neel—can you—could you please—” Misha asks while squeezing Danneel’s shoulder with one hand and pointing toward his erection with his other. 

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” 

It’s an awkward angle, but Danneel readjusts herself so she can lean over and take Misha’s cock in her mouth. She finds a rhythm in record time and works flawlessly as Misha circles his hips between both hers and Jensen’s mouths. He’s breathing heavy and sweating profusely, and Danneel can feel the pulse of his cock throbbing against the inside of her cheeks a lot harder than she can feel the pulse of Jensen’s inside of her. It’s a thrilling sensation, and she’s really glad Jensen gave her some tips on what kind of stuff Misha likes. It turns out they all know how to help each other out. 

Jensen comes first, filling Danneel up and going limp underneath them. Danneel takes her time slipping off of him, and Misha signals her to lie next to Jensen. She rolls over and props herself up on her elbow to see what Misha’s about to do. 

“Jay, can you flip to your side for me?” Misha asks gently from the other side of Jensen. He pushes his shoulder to encourage him to turn, and Jensen moves like putty.

Danneel knows what’s coming next, so she goes ahead and digs through Jensen’s nightstand for lube. She tosses it at Misha, who winks as he squeezes it onto his fingers.

“You all right, Neel?”

Danneel nods and bites her lip as Jensen heaves a sigh at the first press of Misha’s finger. She leans forward and kisses her husband fiercely. When she backs away, he smiles lazily at her, his eyes shut like he’s about to fall asleep. She strokes his hair and encourages him while Misha continues prepping him, and once he’s ready his cock is starting to harden again.

Misha and Danneel share a look before Misha curls his body behind Jensen’s and pushes in. Danneel smiles and spins around on the bed, putting her crotch in Jensen’s face and taking his half-hard cock in her mouth. 

Jensen growls and grabs her ass so he can get her close enough to eat her out. With Misha thrusting forward and Jensen manhandling her body, Danneel’s pretty sure she gives the worst blowjob of her life. There’s a hand in her hair keeping her head steady, and she thinks it might be Misha’s but who even knows anymore. She comes slowly, the sensation building in the pit of her stomach until it shakes her whole body and makes her almost crush Jensen’s head between her leg and the bed. She lies back and replaces her mouth with her hand because it’s all she can manage. Misha comes a minute later and moves around to take Danneel’s place in sucking Jensen off. 

She watches in rapt attention as her husband’s boyfriend bobs up and down on his cock like it’s his job. She can’t know for certain, but it seems Misha can fit more of Jensen inside his mouth than she can, and for some reason that thought is really hot to her. Watching the majority of Jensen’s cock disappear and reappear, Misha’s cheeks hollowing out and his lips doing all kinds of fancy work, Jensen panting and bucking and grabbing Misha’s hair with both his hands…Danneel starts touching herself without even thinking about it.

When they’re done, they lie in a heap on the bed not speaking to each other. Danneel is curled onto her side with her head at the foot of the bed, Misha sideways with his head resting on Jensen’s thigh, and Jensen the only one right side up on his back where he’s been for the past half hour (or hour? Two hours? Who knows?).

The sheets are sticking to their skin and the whole room smells like sex, but nobody has enough energy to get up. Danneel is slipping into sleep when Jensen speaks.

“That was…something else.”

“I believe that was the fastest you’ve ever come twice, Jay,” Misha mumbles, finishing his sentence with a kiss to Jensen’s thigh. 

“Hey, c’mere.” Jensen kicks his knee up to make Misha move.

Misha sighs in annoyance as he crawls up the bed and tucks himself under Jensen’s arm.

Danneel immediately feels left out and goes to Jensen’s other side, lacing her fingers through Misha’s on top of Jensen’s chest. 

“Isn’t this what the cover of Vicki’s book looks like?” Jensen asks. 

Misha lifts his head to give Jensen a skeptical look. “What do you know about Vicki’s book?” 

“Uh, I’ve read it? Figured it might be useful when I started sleeping with more than one person.”

“Hm,” Misha replies, still sounding skeptical.

“She’s the only one who could’ve made this night better than it already is,” Danneel offers.

Misha smiles sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know, I just about came in my pants as is. Wasn’t exactly expecting to find my boyfriend’s head between my wife’s legs when I got home tonight.”

“That’s what you get for not answering your phone,” Misha says.

“Excuse me for having to work late. Thanks for doing all the dishes, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I was going to ask you about that. Since when are you such a slob?” Danneel asks, running a fingertip across Jensen’s chest.

“I’ve had a busy week! Cut me some slack.”

“Has work been hard, baby?”

“Just annoying.” He strokes Danneel’s back before settling his hand on her hip. “Been missing you and J.J. a lot lately.”

“Did you see her when you got home? She’s here, too.”

“Yeah, I checked on her. Sleeping like a log like the perfect kid she is.”

“You have tomorrow off, right? We can spend the day in the park, maybe go to church.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Misha snores loudly, and Danneel and Jensen both laugh. Jensen squeezes Misha closer and kisses his forehead. Misha grumbles in his sleep, scrunching his face in aggravation.

“So who seduced who?” Jensen asks.

“That was mostly him. I did tell him I was horny, though.”

“Hm. Figures.”

“I see why you keep him around. He’s a, uh, pretty enthusiastic lover.”

Jensen huffs a laugh. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

“How are you two doing? You haven’t told me much lately.”

Jensen shifts uncomfortably and kisses Misha’s hair. “Just wish the guy was in more episodes. Sucks going weeks without seeing either of you. If I could have this all the time, I’d be the happiest guy in the world.”

Danneel reaches up to kiss his cheek. “You wouldn’t know what to do if you had this all the time.”

“Good point.”

She kisses him again, on the mouth this time. “I’m gonna go take a shower. You stay here with him.” She jumps off the bed and is out of the room before he can protest. 

On her way, she sees Misha’s phone sitting in the kitchen and picks it up. She doesn’t remember why she knows his passcode, but apparently she must’ve learned it at some point. She opens a conversation Misha was having with Vicki.

I think I’m gonna have sex with Danneel

Get it, cowboy

What should I do??

Take it slow. Keep your clothes on, make her first orgasm unsatisfying so she wants more.  

How the fuck do I do that???

I’m sure you can figure it out, honey.

Danneel laughs and considers calling Vicki to thank her. She then opens a conversation between Misha and Jensen. 

Where are you?

The response didn’t come until after Danneel and Misha had already started: Work. Why?


Why aren’t you responding, dude? You at my house?  


I’m coming home now. If you’re not there when I get there, I’m gonna be pissed.

Jensen completed his series of texts with a hand emoji making a circle with its fingers and a second hand emoji with the index finger pointing toward the first.

“Real classy, Jay,” Danneel mumbles to herself before setting Misha’s phone down. 

When she comes back a few minutes later, she finds Jensen asleep in the same position he’s been all night. Misha has turned away from him and is holding his arm like a pillow, and Jensen’s face is angled toward the back of Misha’s head as if even in his sleep he’s reaching toward him. Danneel takes Jensen’s robe off and crawls into bed, grabbing a comforter to cover them all. Jensen and Misha both stir a bit as she settles against Jensen’s side, but they’re all sleeping soundly within the next five minutes.


“I just think it’s weird that you read it without telling me.” 

“Are we really gonna argue about this? Vicki knows. I assumed that’s all that mattered.” 

Danneel yawns as she joins the bickering couple in the kitchen, and she accepts the offered cup of tea from Misha before taking a seat at the counter next to Jensen.

“Now I’m wondering why Vicki didn’t tell me. I just don’t like being left out of things.”

Jensen turns to Danneel and rolls his eyes.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes, Jensen.” 

Danneel stifles a laugh and drinks her tea. It’s better than the tea she makes. She keeps forgetting to ask Misha for the recipe.

“Why does it bother you so much anyway?” Jensen argues. “It’s not like there’s anything incriminating about you in there.”

“It’s just embarrassing, OK? Vicki put a lot of herself into that book, and I just…” 

“You’re protective. I get it,” Danneel says despite Jensen giving her a dirty look. “But Misha, that book has improved mine and Jensen’s sex life by like a hundred percent." 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to—”

“He even said he might let me, you know…”

Misha leans over the counter in interest, a smile quirking his lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve even been researching strap-ons.”

“Y’all know I’m sitting right here, right?" 

“Ask Vicki for advice. Whatever she got for our first time was incredible. Of course, Jay’s had plenty of experience with my dick inside of him, so it won’t be a totally new experience for him.”

“Dude! Come on!”

“Wait, was your first time with Vicki?” 

Misha nods proudly. “Obviously I’ve been with guys since then, but it was in college. I was still skeptical about all the sexual exploits Vick wanted to try, and I felt like it would be cheating if I experimented with men." 

“How’d she assure you otherwise?”

“Pegging was the first thing. Then we had a few threesomes with women. Then with men. Then I sort of got a crush on a guy in one of my classes, and she encouraged me to pursue him.”

“What was the guy’s name?” Jensen asks, jealousy coating his words.

Danneel and Misha look at him and then at each other. “Oh so now you’re interested,” Misha says. “His name was Jameel and he was the best lay of my life and every time I’m with you it’s him I see in my—” 

“All right, all right. Jackass.” 

“Twenty years ago, Jay. Calm down.”

There’s a small cry from J.J.’s room, so Danneel hops up to go get her. When she comes back to the kitchen with her daughter on her hip, she finds Jensen and Misha huddled together at the counter, Misha’s arm flung over Jensen’s shoulder while he whispers in his ear.

“Daddy!” J.J. cries, kicking her feet into Danneel’s side until she puts her down.

“Hey, sweetheart!” Jensen gets up from his seat and squats down, holding his arms out for J.J. to run into.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says once Jensen has scooped her up into his arms. 

“Hey, baby girl. You hungry?”

J.J. nods enthusiastically.

“OK, I’m gonna fix your breakfast.” Jensen kisses her cheek and starts handing her off to Misha. “You sit here with Uncle Mish, all right?” 

“Uncle Misha!” she cries as if she’s only just realized that he’s there. 

“Good morning, J.J.,” Misha greets as J.J. settles in his lap. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“Where’s Maison?” J.J. asks pointblank. 

Misha laughs a little sadly. “She and West aren’t here right now, sweetie. But I’ll give them your best wishes.”

J.J. looks upset at the news, but Misha easily distracts her. Danneel sits at the kitchen table on the other side of the room and watches Misha and J.J. interact. Yeah, she’s definitely a little bit in love with him.

They all sit at the kitchen table to eat, and the inappropriate conversations and sex-filled evening slip away into memory as they focus on J.J. At one point Jensen and Misha lean over and kiss one another, and Danneel is grateful that her daughter doesn’t even react to it. She vaguely understands the relationship her parents have with Uncle Misha and Aunt Vicki, but when she’s older they’ll better explain and hope for the best.

For now, everything is perfect.

Chapter Text


Misha doesn’t usually notice or care about the trending topics when he logs onto Twitter, but today something catches his eye and he can’t help but laugh.

Without hesitating, he takes a screenshot, opens Paint and gets to work. 

It’s not until he’s attaching the photo to a tweet and writing a caption that he takes pause.

Does this sound bad? Is he going to take this the wrong way? Am I going to get in trouble for this? Surely it’s not as bad as the eye picture. Maybe I should click the link. But do I really want to know what it leads to? No. Fuck. Just fucking—

He hits “tweet.”

Half an hour passes before he checks the tweet again and tries to judge whether Jensen’s not replying because he’s mad or because he’s busy. He decides once and for all that it’s harmless and no matter what happens he won’t delete it.

Well, unless Jensen tells him to.

Just to be safe, he sends Jensen a text.

U see my tweet

The reply comes within five minutes, which is very rare.




Misha laughs as he types back, R u typing in ur pocket bw takes


Before Misha can say anything else, another text comes.

Ur so needy

Fuck u

I was gonna reply to your tweet but now I’m not so sure



Misha rolls his eyes and throws his phone up onto the counter. He swivels around in the barstool and moves across his trailer to the couch. He lies down, covers his face with his forearm, and ignores the buzzing of his phone. He continues to ignore it when it buzzes three more times.

The knock on his door 10 minutes later is a little harder to ignore.

“Ugh, door’s open!” he shouts without moving.

“Hey, if there’s anybody who should be in a bad mood, it’s definitely not the guy who sat around his trailer all day tweeting dumb shit and waiting for his one scene,” Jensen greets as he crosses the trailer. He leans down and pushes Misha’s arm away from his face so he can kiss his forehead.

Misha whines and grabs Jensen by the wrist before he can walk away. He yanks him down on top of him and wraps his arms around his back. “That’s better,” he mumbles into Jensen’s hair.

“Wow you really do need some attention, huh?” Jensen teases, propping his chin on Misha’s chest so he can look him in the eye.

“Was my tweet bad? I know you hate whenever anyone brings Des—”

“You called me ‘Jenseh.’”


Jensen very awkwardly maneuvers to get his phone out of his pocket. He sits up with his elbows digging into Misha’s chest as he scrolls. He turns the screen toward Misha and points.

“See? Your ‘n’ looks like an ‘h.’”

“Can you just fucking reply to it already? The people are waiting, Jenseh.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and gets into an even more awkward and painful position to type. 

“How the fuck do I retweet again?” he says under his breath.

“How long have you been on Twitter?”

“Yeah, like they don’t change the damn thing every five seconds. There. Done.” He drops his phone and lies back down, wrapping his arms around Misha so his hands are trapped between his back and the couch.

Misha’s phone vibrates from the counter.

“Wondered why you stopped responding to my texts,” Jensen mumbles.

Misha snakes a hand around Jensen’s back and up under his two shirts. “When do you have to be back?”

“I don’t.”

He slides the hand down and wiggles it under the waistband of Jensen’s—technically Dean’s—jeans. “Good answer.”



Misha wakes up to the distant sound of his phone alarm. His back and neck are killing him, he’s covered in sweat and dried jizz, and there’s a naked human being dead on top of him.

“Jay, get the fuck off me.” He pushes fruitlessly at Jensen’s shoulders.

Jensen makes a noise of protest in his sleep and holds him tighter. 

His alarm becomes more persistent.

“I swear to God,” he mutters on a sigh as he worms his way out from under Jensen and accidentally kicks him a couple of times.

Jensen still doesn’t wake up.

He doesn’t bother pulling on pants or a shirt as he checks his phone. He reads the four texts from Jensen first.

What u doin

R u in ur trailer



“Who’s the needy one now?” Misha mumbles as he switches over to Twitter. 


Very loudly, he shouts, “What the hell do you mean you blame me for everything?”

Jensen jumps and almost falls off the couch. He scrambles to sit up and superfluously puts a pillow over his morning wood. He rubs his hair and sniffs a few times.

“What?” he finally asks.

 “Your tweet, dumbass. You blame me for everything?”

“Everything that has to do with people thinking Dean and Cas are banging.” Jensen stretches out and groans in pain. “Oh, and that gay panic I had five years ago. I blame you for that, too. You know, generally everything.”

Fair enough, Misha thinks with a smirk. He types out a reply and posts it before he can stand here naked overthinking it until he hates it.


Jensen’s phone buzzes, and he drops it on the floor and rubs sleep out of his eyes before reading the tweet out loud.

“When you say it out loud it just sounds dumb,” Misha comments.

“Skinny jeans? You got a problem with my jeans?”

Misha blinks at him and doesn’t respond. Jensen keeps his eyes glued to his phone. After a minute, Jensen begins to type.

“You’re not…tweeting about your jeans, are you?”

“Of course I’m—”

Misha basically leaps across the room, his naked and vulnerable dick be damned, and snatches Jensen’s phone out of his hand.

Compose New Tweet
Hey man what do u have against skinny jeans I thought u liked them @mishacollins

“Jesus, Jenseh,” Misha sighs as he deletes the tweet.

Chapter Text

There’s a weird moment at the end of every con where all the actors finally finish their photo ops and autographs for the weekend and are shuffled into the back of an SUV to be driven to an airport or a hotel. It’s weird because they’re all exhausted, but it’s the only time all weekend that they get to really see each other without several hundreds pairs of eyes on them. So they generally try to make the most of it through their exhaustion.

The Seattle convention is different. Misha asked if he could drive his own car so he could easily go back and forth between his house and Bellevue Saturday and Sunday, but of course the people in charge of his schedule insisted that he have a driver. “You can have your own personal driver,” they said. “So you don’t even have to stop off at the boys’ hotel on your way home.” The boys. It was so weird at conventions that everybody referred to Jared and Jensen as the boys. Conventions are so weird.

Late Sunday night, Misha is walking out the front door of the hotel when a familiar voice calls from behind him, “Mish! Wait up!”

Misha pockets his phone and turns to give Jensen his full attention. “I thought you left already.”

Jensen makes a confused face at him and answers, “Well, I didn’t. Where are you heading?”

Their handlers are not-so-subtly pretending like they aren’t listening to the conversation, and there’s a group of girls in “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” t-shirts staring and whispering over by the elevators. Misha keeps a polite smile on his face as he turns his gaze back on Jensen.

“Home. Where are you going?”

Jensen clears his throat and looks over Misha’s shoulder. “I’m coming with you. C’mon, let’s get a drink.”

Misha really has no choice but to follow him. Jensen kind of tugs on the sleeve of his jacket and doesn’t check to see if their handlers have anything to say about it. Once they’re in the back of the car, the handlers wash their hands of them anyway. 

“So are you inviting yourself to my house?” Misha asks as they pull out of the roundabout. 

“I’m inviting myself to get a drink with you.” Jensen looks into the rearview mirror and gives the driver the name of a bar in Bellingham. 

“I’m surprised you remember that place,” Misha says mostly to himself.

Jensen makes another confused face at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Misha shrugs.

Jensen looks away from him and shakes his head. “I guess I remember last year’s Seacon differently than you.”

“That’s not what I meant. I said I was surprised you remember the name of the bar. You were three sheets to the wind, and we didn’t exactly…”

Once again, Jensen clears his throat. He blushes and smiles and looks down at his lap. Misha watches him, his own smile tugging at his lips. 

“I, uh,” Jensen starts after a minute of silence. “Had a long day filming Friday. Friday into Saturday, I mean. And then the convention and…everything. You know, just - just wanted to see you. Hang out with you.”

Misha looks straight ahead with a smile on his face.

Eventually Jensen looks over at him and acts affronted. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Jensen glares at him, but Misha just keeps looking straight ahead.

It’s late by the time they get to the bar, and only the true alcoholics and depressed 20-somethings are still there. Jensen places a hand on the small of Misha’s back and steers him toward the far side of the bar, and he doesn’t let up until Misha takes a seat. A man in a baseball cap squints at them and knocks back the rest of his drink. 

Before Misha has the chance to strike up a conversation, Jensen signals to the bartender and orders two beers and two shots.

“Shots?” Misha asks.


“Um, this is a weird way to celebrate Tom’s birthday.”

Jensen glares at him.

When the shots arrive, they clink glasses and Jensen finally explains, “To season 12.”

After wincing and chasing, Misha responds, “Ah. So that’s why you’re in a bad mood.”


“Did you at least have a good time at the convention?”

Jensen makes a face like he can’t believe Misha just asked such a stupid question.

“What? Don’t we usually have a good time at conventions?”

“You notice how many people asked me to smile today?”

“You mean in the photo ops? Maybe if you would smile naturally, then people wouldn’t ask you to do so.”

Jensen frowns. “I don’t know, they just seemed…more aggressive about it today. Did I look pissed all day? Was that the problem?”

“Were you pissed all day?”

Jensen shrugs and takes a drink.

“What bothered you so much? I’m being serious, talk to me.”

With a sigh, Jensen replies, “Dance, monkey, dance.”

“Would you rather not have thousands of adoring fans pay hundreds of dollars to take silly pictures with you?”

“C’mon, Mish, you know that’s not what I mean.”

“I choose to pay it forward.”

Jensen doesn’t ask for an explanation, but he looks at Misha in anticipation of one.

So Misha continues, “If the fans and Creation can make us do whatever they want, we can make them do whatever we want. Or, in the case of Creation, just try to fuck them over.”

“Is that what that stunt with the Girl Scout cookies was about?”

Misha smiles and looks down at his beer. “You heard about that?”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Misha laughs and leans over until he shoves Jensen in the shoulder.

“Seriously, are you all right?” Misha asks after a couple minutes.

“I’m fine, dude. Just drained.”

“And tired of feeling like a puppet.”

“And tired of feeling like a puppet, yeah.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes. Eventually, Misha says, “Did you hear about the extra security detail they had on me Saturday?”


“I have no idea. They said something about a ‘threat’ to my safety.”

Jensen turns his body completely toward Misha and levels him with a hard stare. His jaw tightens.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“What? It wasn’t a big deal! I’m fine. Obviously.”

“You let me sit here and complain about photo ops while you–”

“Yeah, because that was bothering you more than this situation bothers me. We’re public people, Jensen. It’s just part of being a public person.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Jensen mumbles.

“Can you please stop…posturing? For fuck’s sake.”

Jensen reluctantly turns back toward the bar and drains the rest of his beer. Misha blatantly watches his Adam’s apple bob as he drinks.

“Seriously, do you want to come back to my place tonight?” 

“Vick won’t mind?”

“She’s already in bed. We can take the guest room.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”



Jensen slides out of bed and crosses the room to his suitcase. 

Misha props himself up on his elbows and blinks the tiredness from his eyes. “What are you doing?”


“But why.”

“There are kids and a wife and chickens in this house.”

Misha frowns as he watches the lithe muscles of Jensen’s back disappear beneath a t-shirt. He frowns harder when Jensen’s bare ass and pale legs disappear under a pair of boxers. Not even boxer briefs. Fucking boxers.

He returns to the bed a moment later and pulls the covers back to climb in. He subconsciously licks his lips at the sight of Misha’s naked body, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not putting on clothes,” Misha protests.

“Good,” Jensen replies as he curls against Misha’s side and wraps a strong arm around his waist. It takes him a second to get his head comfortably resting on his chest. “I don’t fly back until tomorrow afternoon.”

“So?” Misha lazily runs a hand through his hair.

“So, can you go to the store and get me some weed?”

His hand stops. “You’re joking.”


“Did you just - did I just - was that blowie payment for pot?”

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

Misha squirms under Jensen and tries to extricate himself from his grasp. He fails. 

“You can go to the dispenser and get it yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, but. You know the guy.”

Misha sighs and closes his eyes. 

With a laugh, Jensen pokes Misha in the chest and says, “Dance, monkey, dance.”

Chapter Text

The door to Jensen’s trailer opens, but he doesn’t look up to see who it is. He’s playing a game on his phone, and he doesn’t want to stop.

The person stands right in front of him and clears his throat.

Still not looking up, Jensen says, “Hey, Mish.”

“Who’s ‘Mish’?”

OK, that’s enough to get Jensen to look up. Misha is standing a few feet in front of him wearing his Cas get-up, but he’s got that dumb, smug Lucifer smile on his face.

“Dude, what are you--”

“‘Dude’? ‘Mish’? I think a better name for me is ‘God.’” 

Misha tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows patronizingly, and Jensen tries to stop himself from smiling. He sits up in the armchair and pockets his phone.

“So - am I - do I need to be Dean?” Jensen asks eagerly even as the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment.

“No. I’m tired of that whiny brat. I came here to see Jensen.”

Heat pools low in Jensen’s belly, and he sits up even straighter in his seat. 

Misha’s eyes rake over his body, and he grins mischievously at him. 

Jensen swallows and asks, “What - what are you gonna...?”

Misha shushes him and slowly steps forward until he’s right in front of him. Jensen looks up at him with anticipation in his eyes, but he doesn’t have to wait for long. In a moment, Misha straddles his lap and wraps his arms behind his neck. 

Feeling no shame whatsoever, Jensen lets out a growl and runs his hands up Misha’s thighs before latching onto his hips. He looks Misha up and down and eventually settles his gaze on the long line of his neck.

Misha notices and tilts his head down until their foreheads knock together. “Eager, are we?"

Jensen grunts and squeezes Misha’s hips in response.

“Use your words, Shackles. That’s no way to talk to your maker.”

“Please, Mish--”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Misha tightens his grip on Jensen’s neck and presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose, their foreheads still touching.

“I, uh...Can I - I just want to...kiss you? Sir?”

Misha almost breaks character, but he catches himself with a bite to his lower lip. His eyes flick down to Jensen’s mouth and then back up to his eyes right before he surges forward and presses their lips together. 

Jensen lets out an embarrassingly loud moan and pushes his hands up under the back of Misha’s trench coat to draw him closer. After a few seconds, Misha starts rocking in his lap and expediting the process of getting Jensen hard. 

The kiss is brutal, and Jensen has a hard time keeping up with the direction Misha’s going. Every time Jensen tries to push his tongue into Misha’s mouth, Misha sucks on it until it hurts and Jensen has to pull back. Then Misha responds by shoving his own tongue past Jensen’s lips and fucks his mouth so hard it might as well be his cock. He’s also biting Jensen’s lips too much, and Jensen can feel the iron taste of blood in his mouth. None of this should be sexy, and yet?

After a few more minutes, Misha grabs Jensen’s right hand and moves it toward his crotch. Jensen gets the picture and fumbles with Misha’s fly until his cock is free. He’s not wearing underwear, but now’s not the time to mention it.

Misha doesn’t let up in the weird, gross kissing department as Jensen jacks him off. Whenever Jensen messes up the rhythm, Misha growls and bites him. Eventually, though, Jensen gets the hang of it and Misha comes all over his hand. Jensen tries his best not to get anything on Misha’s costume.

Misha clears his throat, pats Jensen’s shoulders, and stands up without a word. He grins at Jensen as he puts his pants back on, and then he winks and leaves.



They never talk about it. The next time Jensen and Misha see each other, they’re back to normal. They probably start utilizing the armchair in Jensen’s trailer more often, but other than that things are normal.

And then episode 18 of season 11 airs. 

You dick, Jensen texts Misha as he watches his boyfriend straddle another man’s lap.

I have no idea what you’re talking about, Misha immediately texts back.

Whose idea was it? Who did you do it to first, me or him?

What do YOU think?

I’m gonna kill you.

Jealousy’s a bad look on you, babe.

Jensen angrily squeezes his phone and doesn’t text back. After a few minutes, Misha texts him again.

I knew if it worked on you, it would work on screen. Thanks for being my test dummy. :)

Chapter Text

Jensen takes his napkin out of his lap and balls it up on his empty plate. He reaches for his glass only to realize he’s run out of wine, so he scans the restaurant to try to find their server. When that fails, he turns his attention back to the table and props his chin in his hand. Jared is talking to Jim about politics, and Richard and Gen are having a drunken thumb war. 

Rob and Misha burst out laughing, and Jensen watches as they huddle next to each other and smile at their phones. Rob’s arm is casually slung over the back of Misha’s chair, which makes a ping of affection burn low in Jensen’s belly. He smiles and listens as Rob explains how to use a snapchat. Jensen could throw in his two cents based on what Kathryn’s tried to teach him, but he’s a little too buzzed to engage in conversation. Instead, he inches his foot forward until he hits Misha’s boot. Misha immediately glances up at him and winks before looking back down at his phone, so Jensen smoothly slips his shoe off and runs his foot up Misha’s shin.

Misha sits up a little straighter and cricks his neck. He’s clearly trying his best to focus on his phone and whatever Rob is saying, but his leg slides forward and reaches for more contact. Jensen hooks his foot behind his knee and slowly drags his toes down his calf. Misha flexes, and Jensen closes his eyes and hums.

“You all right, buddy?” Richard asks.

Jensen drops his foot, adjusts his posture and raises his eyebrows at Richard. “Hm? What? I’m fine.”

Richard furrows his brow at him and then glances over toward Misha. “Feel free to get out of here whenever you want,” he says suggestively.

As if on cue, Jared and Gen ask the table if anyone wants to go out for drinks. Jensen immediately agrees and then gives Misha a pointed look. Misha then looks to Rob. Rob turns to Jared and says, “Me and Misha will go, too.”

As they stand to leave, Jensen very nearly forgets his shoe. A couple of people at the table notice and snicker, but Jensen is too drunk to care. He slings an arm over Misha’s shoulder on the way out and whispers, “I think I ate too much pasta.”

“I think the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed is the more troubling issue,” Misha responds without looking up from his phone. He holds it out in front of them and snaps a selfie just as Jensen drops his cheek to his shoulder. 

“Are you snapping that? Snapchatting that? Sending a snapchat? Doing the snap? Are you--”


Jensen squeezes his shoulder and then lets go. Misha walks ahead of him to join Rob, so Jensen hangs back next to Jared and Gen. Jared has his arm protectively wrapped around Gen’s shoulder while she smiles down at her phone.

“Oh no, did she get a snapchat, too?” Jensen asks.

Jared huffs a laugh and shakes his head at Jensen. “Your boyfriend ignoring you?”

“No,” Jensen says defensively. They make it outside, and Rob and Misha start walking toward a bar a couple blocks down. They’re huddled together again, shoulders bumping and laughing at their phones. “OK, maybe,” Jensen admits.

“You should get snapchat,” Gen suggests. “They seem to be really into it.”

Jensen thinks about the clips of himself with a flower crown or a puppy face and answers, “I think I’ll pass.”

Misha holds out his phone and plants a kiss on Rob’s cheek as he snaps a picture.

“Aww,” Jared says, only half-sarcastically. 

“Do you get jealous of Rob, Jay?” Gen asks.

“What? No. Why would I?”

“Because of how close he and Misha are,” she explains as if Jensen’s a moron.

Jensen shrugs. “Rob and I are close, too.”


The conversation drops as they make their way inside the bar. Jensen once again comes up behind Misha and puts his hand on his shoulder so he can whisper in his ear. “What are you drinking tonight, Mish? Wanna take a shot with me?”

“I’d rather you just buy me a daiquiri.” Misha turns toward him so their faces are just inches apart. He smiles smugly as he whispers, “I don’t want to be too drunk tonight.”

Jensen swallows and feels his eyelids droop. He sways into Misha’s space, but Misha is already turning back toward the bar and ordering drinks for them both. Jensen growls and considers pinching Misha’s ass, but he gets distracted by a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, I actually think I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” Rob says. “I’m feeling a little lightheaded. You guys have fun though.”

“Oh come on, just one drink?” Misha asks sincerely, flashing Rob his best pleading look.

Jensen places his hand on Misha’s hip and says, “Don’t pressure the man, Mish. Go on home, Robbie. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Rob says goodbye to each of them, and nobody even bats an eye when Misha grabs him by the cheek and hauls him in for a kiss on the mouth. Rob looks down at the floor and scratches his head and waves awkwardly without making eye contact with any of them. He bumps into a table on his way out.

Jensen shakes his head at Misha.

“What?” Misha asks innocently.

“You’re so cruel to him.”

Misha shrugs and picks up his daiquiri. “I think he and I have a perfectly sound relationship.”

“Hey, guys, we’re going to go find a table,” Jared says as he comes up between them and places a hand on their shoulders. “C’mon, join us.”

Despite Misha insisting that he doesn’t want to drink too much, he ends up getting drunk off his ass. 

He and Jensen are on one side of the booth while Jared and Gen are on the other. Jensen keeps scooting closer to Misha until they’re both crammed up against the wall. Misha is forced to sling his left arm around the back of the booth. His right arm rests on the table near his drink, and Jensen distractedly runs his fingers up and down the back of his hand.

“The videos are only 10 seconds long, which is absurd. I can’t do anything in 10 seconds.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be a catalog of your entire day, Misha,” Gen argues. “It’s probably supposed to be absurd.”

“I just don’t get it.” Misha shifts his whole body in annoyance, and Jensen has to readjust his head on Misha’s chest. “What’s the point of taking a picture that only lasts five seconds?”

“Fans screenshot those five-second-long pictures and save them forever, Misha.”

Jensen giggles at Gen’s chastising tone.

Misha slaps his left hand against Jensen’s bicep. “What are you laughing at, tough guy?”

“This argument.” He continues laughing. “Snapshot sounds dumb.”

“Snapchat,” Misha and Gen say in unison.

Jensen laughs harder.

Jared clears his throat and says, “I’m getting kind of tired. Honey, you wanna go soon?”

“Boo,” Misha whines at the same time Jensen complains, “Y’all are la-a-a-me.”

Jared and Gen give them bored looks. Eventually Jared says, “It’s almost 2. Feel free to stay out as late as you want, but I don’t want to be exhausted in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling kind of tired,” Gen agrees as she scoots toward the end of the booth.

“Fuck y’all. Y'all are going back to the hotel so you can be lame and do sex.”

Jared squints at Jensen and very slowly says, “Yes…‘doing sex’ is really lame.”

Misha turns his head toward Jensen’s ear and whispers, “I bet they’re not even going to do sex. They’ll probably just fall asleep.”

Jensen starts giggling again, and this time Misha joins in.

Gen sighs while Jared says, “Quit acting like y’all aren’t gonna go back to the hotel and do the exact same thing.”

Jensen's mouth drops open in shock, and Jared winks at him.

As Jared and Gen walk out, Jared says, "Y'all are lame. See y'all in the morning."



At 2:23 a.m., Jensen and Misha’s legs get tangled together and they both stumble and fall onto Jensen’s bed. The whole room is spinning, but Misha’s face is a fixed spot above Jensen so he strokes his cheek and stares into his eyes.

“What?” Misha asks with a grin.

“Nothing,” Jensen answers innocently. He’s pretty sure he’s got a stupid grin on his face, too.

Misha wiggles his body playfully, making the whole bed shake. He then leans down and gives Jensen a kiss. As soon as he pulls away, Jensen hums and pulls his face back down. He holds him by the back of his head as he works his tongue between his lips and tastes the liquor in his mouth. He tries to close his eyes, but he’s too damn dizzy. He has to remind himself to keep moving his lips so he doesn’t fall asleep.

Eventually Misha pulls away again and says, “Time to go to bed.”

“What? No!” Jensen moves his hands to Misha’s hips and squeezes hard. “We still have our clothes on.”

“And you’re about to fall asleep with your tongue in my mouth.”

Jensen purses his lips in consideration.

“Oh my god, Jay, I’m not letting you fall asleep with your tongue in my mouth. Now let me go.”

Jensen grips his hips harder.

Misha raises an eyebrow at him.

Jensen leans up and kisses him again. At first Misha growls in protest and tries to pull away, but after just a few seconds his body melts into Jensen’s as he deepens the kiss. Jensen rolls him over to his side so they’re facing each other, and he awkwardly reaches down to Misha’s belt buckle. He fumbles with it for a solid minute before breaking the kiss and looking down at the thing in confusion.

“This isn’t even one of your ugly ones,” Jensen says in annoyance. “Why is it betraying me?”

Misha laughs and bats Jensen’s hand away. He rolls over onto his back and pulls Jensen to his side. “Can we please just go to sleep?”

Jensen manages to unbutton the bottom few buttons of Misha’s shirt so he can shove his hand up to his chest. “But what if Jared and Gen are having sex right now?”

“Jensen. I am so tired.”

“C’mon, at least let me give you a handjob.”

“As if a handjob is less lame than not having sex at all.” He kisses the top of Jensen’s head. “It’s a kind offer, but I’ll pass.”

“But—but—I…” Jensen’s eyes slip shut as Misha rubs soothing circles into his back.

“That’s it, babe,” Misha whispers conspiratorially. “Let me lull you to sleep…you’re doing great…keep steadying out that breathing…yeah, slide that hand to my hip…go…to…sleep…”

Jensen nuzzles his head against MIsha’s chest and tangles their ankles together before finally letting sleep take over.

Chapter Text

“You and Jared sure got cozy during your panel.”

Misha took a swig of beer and sat back in his chair. “How would you know?”

Jensen held up his phone and shook it in response. He must’ve been spending a lot of time in the green room dicking around.

“I imagine you don’t want me putting my hand on your thigh during our panel,” Misha pressed.

Jensen kept staring down at his phone. “Your blow job face.”

“I’m sorry, can you be more specif–”

“Every time I…you know…you make that face. You know, the face. When Jared moved your hand, you made the face.”

“You know, Jackles, you’ve given me at least a hundred B.J.’s and you still can’t fucking say–”

“Dude.” Jensen frantically looked around the room as if any of their friends didn’tknow what was going on between them and would be appalled to hear about Jensen’s oral skills. As it happened, they were alone.

“Jared is well-endowed. I don’t particularly mind having my hand near his cock,” Misha continued.

Jensen clenched his jaw, but the rest of his face relaxed into an unamused expression. “Shut up.”

Misha leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I might’ve been into it. Do you think the crowd could tell?”

“I don’t care what – it’s like you’re hitting on my brother, man. And besides, you know how I feel about you enjoying any dick that’s not mine. It’s just – I just – I don’t like it.”

Inside his mind, Misha was doing a victory dance at how direct Jensen sounded. Even after all these years, it was rare for him to speak openly about their “arrangement” (as he insisted on calling it). 

“And he called you ‘Mish.’”


Jensen glared at him. Misha shrugged in confusion. Jensen pouted. 

“He. Called. You. Mish.”

“Um…did that become a crime recently? Did he get arrested?”

With a sigh, Jensen dramatically walked across the room and poured himself a drink. As he stood by the snack table, he said, “Everybody makes fun of me for calling you Mish, but nobody ever notices when he does it. It’s like if you called me ‘Shackles.’ That’s his nickname for me. It wouldn’t fucking make sense if you called me that.”

Sensing Jensen’s distress, Misha immediately pushed out of his chair and joined him at the snack table. He stood in front of Jensen and rubbed his hand into his hip to try to soothe him. He looked at him for a minute without saying anything, their faces close enough to kiss.

“Quit being so jealous, tough guy,” he whispered sweetly. “It’s not a pretty look on you.”

Avoiding eye contact, Jensen knocked back his whole drink. “I’m glad he’s here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking thrilled he’s here this year. But, uh…”

Misha couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice as he asked, “Rome is ours?”

Suddenly Jensen grabbed Misha’s cheek and pressed their lips together forcefully. He made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat as he worked his mouth in a bruising rhythm. When he pulled away, Misha was left breathless and more than a little aroused.

“Yeah, Rome is fucking ours,” Jensen said sternly as he turned on his heel and left the green room. 

Jared appeared a moment later. All he said was, “Told you.”

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

Jensen doesn’t answer. He disappears into the bathroom of his trailer and turns the sink on.

Misha follows him and leans against the doorjamb. There’s really not enough space for both of them in the bathroom, but sue him - Jensen left the door open.

“What are you doing?” Misha repeats as he watches Jensen dunk his head under the sink.

When he pops back up, he looks at Misha through the mirror and responds, “Shaving.”

“Funny, I didn’t know it was customary to drench your head before shaving your face.”

“Gotta cut my hair, too. Don’t feel like showering.”

“Mm, shame.”

Jensen turns to glare at him. “Dude, you know we can’t both fit.”

“You can’t discount something you’ve never tried.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and picks up a straight razor.

“Really? You want it that close?” Misha can’t help himself. He crowds Jensen against the sink and reaches for his hand. Once Misha has the razor in his grasp, Jensen lets go easy. “You won’t have any stubble left.”

“I know how to shave my own face, Mish. Been playing Dean a long time.” He snatches the razor back.

Misha raises his hands in surrender and steps back again. He watches attentively as Jensen rubs shaving cream into his beard. For the next few minutes, the soft sound of blade cutting hair is the only thing breaking the silence between them. They make eye contact through the mirror a few times before Misha pulls out his phone to distract himself.

After a couple more minutes, Jensen turns around and announces, “OK, all done.”

Misha looks up to see a goatee and ugly sideburns. “Wow, yeah, that’s perfect,” he deadpans as he holds his phone up and snaps a picture.

“Hey, wait a second.” Jensen eagerly pushes past Misha and looks around at the walls of his trailer. He finds one he likes and stands in front of it. “Take a picture of me here.”

Not needing an explanation, Misha does as he’s bid. Jensen strikes several dumb poses, and Misha captures every one of them. When they’re both satisfied, Jensen comes over and bumps his head against Misha’s as they look through the photos together.

“You should do a handlebar next,” Misha says as they both head back toward the bathroom.

“I was already thinking about it.”

“God, this is so much more fun than the blowjob you gave me earlier.”

Misha’s too busy looking down at his phone to register that Jensen has a bottle of shaving cream pointed at him. It isn’t until the foam hits him on the forehead that he reacts. He stumbles back and wipes his face, flinging it fruitlessly back toward Jensen. While laughing like an idiot, Jensen chases him through the trailer and sprays his chest, ass and crotch. Misha eventually manages to grab Jensen’s arm and pin his whole body up against the wall, arm above his head. He presses his chest against Jensen’s, loosens his grip on his wrist, and glances down at his mouth. They’re both breathing heavy. Neither of them is laughing anymore.

Misha leans forward and makes it about half an inch away from Jensen’s face before he starts laughing. He releases his arm, and Jensen immediately clasps his hands around Misha’s lower back.

“What? I was into whatever you were putting down,” Jensen says sheepishly.

Misha replies by scratching Jensen’s sideburns.

“Really?” Jensen asks in annoyance.

With a condescending pat to his face, Misha pecks Jensen on the lips and backs away toward the bathroom. He grabs his phone from off the couch on the way. Luckily he managed to toss it aside before getting any shaving cream on it.

As soon as Jensen starts shaving his face again, Misha interjects. “You’re not doing that right.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“That’s not how you - here - let me - just -” Misha wrestles the razor out of Jensen’s hand and grabs his jaw between his thumb and forefinger so he can turn his head toward him. He then very meticulously creates a handlebar mustache while Jensen stands there quietly.

When they’re done, Jensen clears his throat and says, “You take your handlebar mustaches pretty seriously.”

Misha rubs Jensen’s face down with a towel and responds, “I take everything seriously.” When he pulls the towel away, he can’t help himself. He grabs Jensen by the back of the neck and kisses him fiercely.

Jensen breaks the kiss off because he’s laughing too hard. “You have a thing for handlebar mustaches. Oh my god.”

Misha whacks him with the towel. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever learned about me.”

“Is this doing it for you?” Jensen asks seductively as he runs his hand down his mustache.

“C’mon, let’s take the stupid picture.”

They take about 50. Misha may or may not save them into a private folder. For personal use. Or whatever.

The pornstache is a little too much for Misha. When Jensen tries to kiss him, he closes his eyes and bats him away. They manage to get one good picture before Misha begs him to shave it off.

As Jensen finishes shaving, Misha texts a few pictures to Danneel with no captions. She responds immediately with a bunch of heart-eye emojis.

The handlebar was my fave, Misha responds.

I’m not surprised. I’ve always thought you probably have a thing for dirty truckers.

I’d be offended, but you’re not wrong.

“There. All done,” Jensen says eventually.

When Misha looks up from his phone, he finds a clean-shaven face smiling down at him. Once again unable to help himself, Misha pushes Jensen back and knocks everything off the sink so he can lift him up onto it. Jensen grunts and laughs and wraps his arms around Misha’s neck to keep his balance on the edge of the small sink. This time when they kiss, Jensen doesn’t pull away for a long time.

“I have to go get my hair cut,” he mumbles against Misha’s lips.


“Come with me so you can take pictures.”


As it turns out, Jensen has to put on his costume before going to get his hair cut. Oops.

On the walk over to hair and makeup, Jensen pulls out his phone and asks Misha to send him the best pictures. He then asks him how to make one of those “moving picture things on Twitter.”

“A gif?”

“Yeah. That. How do I do that?”

After his haircut, it takes a solid 15 minutes for them both to figure out how to make a gif.

As Jensen types out the tweet, Misha reads over his shoulder. He stops him before he hits post and says, “You didn’t say what I assisted with.”


“So everyone online is going to interpret that in the worst way possible.”

Jensen grins evilly and hits post.

“Really? Really?”

Jensen shrugs. “What? It’s funny.”

“You’re going to out us one day, I swear to god,” Misha mumbles as he types up a clarification.

A partially untrue clarification.

Chapter Text

The first time Misha reads the script, he laughs so hysterically that he gets lightheaded and has to take a nap in his trailer.

Jensen will soon be standing in front of a teenage girl, listening intently as she explains the concept of Destiel subtext to him.

Nothing could delight Misha more.

Granted, Jensen is one of his best friends. And he maybe probably definitely wouldn’t be opposed if Jensen one day decided to burn his straight pride flag and kissed his face just a little.

But that’s beside the point.

The point is that Jensen–poor, overcompensating, precious little macho Jensen–has to confront his worst fear on national television: Dean and Cas doing it.

The second time Misha reads the script–and honestly he reads it a second time simply because it fills him with such petty joy (it’s not like he’s in the fucking episode)–he gets stuck on one teensy little part.

Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life.


Real life.

Before he has the inclination to filter himself, he shoots Robbie a text: Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life? Is there something between me and Jensen that I don’t know about?

Robbie texts back almost immediately.


Siobhan and Kristen. Are you implying that Jensen and I are “a couple in real life”?

Uh-oh, here comes the regret.

No! Oh my god, Misha. No. I just needed a narrative reason to bring up Destiel.

Oh. My mistake.

Do you think the fans will read it that way? Do we need to change it??

No, I’m sure it’s fine.

It’s probably not fine, but the fans will think what they want to think no matter what, so who cares.

Just as Misha is pocketing his phone, there’s a heavy knock on his door.

“Come in, Jens,” he shouts.

The door flies open, the aforementioned uber macho man huffing and puffing his way over to the couch opposite of the armchair Misha’s sitting in. He takes a seat and glares at Misha.

“The fans are gonna hate this,” he grunts in a very manly way.

Misha barely holds back a laugh. Jensen is so dumb. “What makes you say that?”

“Destiel? How many people are even gonna know what the hell that is?”

“Um, a lot.”

“And why would we imply–you know–” he frantically waves his finger between himself and Misha, “–the, you know, the thing between–something physical–between–”

“The word you’re looking for is sex, Jens.”

He frowns. The tips of his ears are red.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean nobody else likes it.”

He frowns harder.

“I’ll bet you 500 bucks fans love it.”

“Deal,” Jensen agrees without hesitation.  

Misha opens his mouth to say something but then thinks better of it. He takes a deep breath instead and scratches the back of his head.

“I thought you were gonna be on my side with this. I’ll see you later,” Jensen laments as he stands and heads toward the door.

“Again, I believe you’re more of an island with this opinion than you think you are.”

Jensen grunts his dissent and slams the door on his way out.

“Gay sex is nothing to be afraid of, Jens!”

Misha thinks Jensen doesn’t hear him from outside, but then his door cracks open and Jensen’s middle finger sneaks over the threshold before the door shuts once again.


At the next convention, Jensen tells fans that he doesn’t think they’ll like the 200th episode.

Misha laughs and laughs.

“You shouldn’t say bad things about the show,” Misha says somewhere around his third scotch. Last time he checked, it was 2 in the morning and Jensen was still hanging out in his hotel room drinking scotch like two straight, married dudes do.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said people wouldn’t like the 200th episode.”

Jensen scoots himself up the bed, lies down on his back and folds his hands behind his head. “They won’t.”

“Still, you could get in trouble.”

“What are they gonna do, fire me?”

“You might offend Robbie.”

That makes Jensen pause. He pokes his lips out. He shrugs. “Not worried about it.”

Misha flips to his side and tucks his hand under his cheek so he can look at Jensen. Like straight, married dudes do. “I think people will appreciate that the girls playing Dean and Cas are ‘a couple in real life.’ That’s almost like Destiel being canon.”


“Siobhan and Kristen.”


“The girls–”

“Why would people like that?”

“You do know gay people exist, right?”

Jensen turns a hard look on him. He scans Misha’s face curiously, but then his eyes widen and he swallows and looks away. “Why would people want Dean and Cas to be…you know, the show’s not about that.”

Misha pats Jensen’s face patronizingly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He then pulls himself out of bed and heads for the dresser.

As he’s pouring himself another scotch, he hears Jensen say, “You think I’m cute?”

When Misha turns around, Jensen is grinning at him and bouncing his eyebrows. It’s such a Dean thing to do that it pisses Misha off. “I was gonna pour you another scotch, but now I’m not going to.”

“That’s OK,” Jensen responds as he takes Misha’s scotch right out of his hands and downs it in one go.

Misha sits on the bed dumbstruck. He looks over at the almost empty bottle of scotch sitting on the dresser. It’s so far away.

With a sigh, Jensen stumbles off the bed and goes to pour Misha a drink.

By the time the bottle is empty, Jensen and Misha have both fallen asleep on top of the covers while mid-conversation.

When Misha wakes up in the morning, Jensen is gone.


Misha of course gets to go home when filming for episode 200 begins. He’s pissed about it, but at least he gets to hang out with his kids for a few days.

During rehearsal on day one, Jensen texts Misha, The girls are a couple in real life. You think that’ll make people think about…you and me? The wrong way?

Robbie brought it up to you, didn’t he?


People think we’re dating anyway, so why does it matter?

Because it’s like we’re confirming it!

Jensen. There’s nothing to confirm.

Jensen doesn’t respond.

On day two, Jensen calls Misha in the middle of the day.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” he greets.

“Hello to you, too.”

“How can there be all this–this subtext if you and I aren’t doing it intentionally? We’re not purposely playing Dean and Cas to be…so why would anyone think it? Why is Robbie confirming it?”

“It’s a joke, Jensen. Calm down.”

“Well, it’s a joke everybody but me seems to be in on. If subtext is happening, I should know about it.”

Images flash in Misha’s mind. Images of Jensen scanning his face and staring too long at Misha’s lips and licking his own lips. Things Jensen doesn’t know he’s doing. Doesn’t realize that he does them as Dean, too. Subtext.

“If you know too much about subtext, it makes your acting stiff and insincere.”

“OK, drama school. So you’re saying this subtext exists?”

“I’m not saying anything. I can’t believe you wasted a 10 for this conversation.”

“It’s lunch break, dick. I’ll see you later.”

On day three, Jensen texts Misha, Do people really think you and I are a couple?

You’re just now registering that I said that? We’ve talked about this.

No we haven’t. If there’s Destiel, then what are we called?


Oh wait we have talked about this. I was drunk.

You wanted to read fanfiction, and I convinced you that wasn’t a good idea.

Oh my god the name of the episode is Fan Fiction.

I feel like I’m watching something very special unfolding.

Shut up. I still hate this episode.

The next time Misha’s on set, Jensen knocks on his door before he’s even put his duffel bag down.

“So this Cockles thing,” he starts as he takes a seat on the couch. “People really think we’re, you know, gay?”

With a heavy sigh, Misha responds, “I don’t know what people think, Jens.”

“I guess people are gonna think whatever they want to think, but are you sure this episode isn’t gonna cause an uproar? I mean, what if people think you and I are actually together?”

“I think people already think that.”

“You just said you don’t know what people think.”

Misha groans loudly and drops his forehead against the counter. “I don’t care. I literally do not care,” he says to the fake granite.

“We’re straight though! You don’t want people to believe a lie, do you?”

Misha lifts his head up just enough to rest his chin in his hand. He covers his eyes and rests his elbow on the counter. “What makes you think I’m straight.”



“You’re married.”

“We’ve had this conversation, Jensen.”

“No we haven’t.”

“Yes, we–wait, no we haven’t. Um. I’m not…exactly…”

Jensen’s eyes widen. His mouth drops open. He scans Misha’s face, stares at his lips, licks his own lips. “So you probably don’t even care that the fans think…?”

Misha shrugs.

Jensen leaves.


They forget about episode 200 for a while (thank god). Misha and Jensen go back to whatever their semblance of normal is, with perhaps a bit more staring and lingering touches and hanging out drunk on beds together (which is totally cool for a straight dude and his not-so-straight best friend). Jensen asserts his masculinity by avoiding the subject of gay subtext altogether.

Even when they’re filming together, Misha notices that Jensen’s Dean is a bit meaner to Cas, a lot less prone to looking at him for too long or searching every part of his face. He even misses his mark one day to try to stay farther away from Misha, which is hilarious because Jensen’s biggest pet peeve is people missing their fucking marks. The lengths this man will go to protect his perfectly intact manhood.


For the actual air date of episode 200, Jensen, Misha, Jared, Rob and Robbie all get together in Jensen’s trailer to watch it. Misha has no clue why he was invited or why he’s been asked to live tweet–he’s not bitter about not being in the episode, he’s really not–but he supposes it’s better than watching the episode alone in his pajamas. It’s one of the few episodes he’s genuinely excited to watch.

Somehow, definitely not deliberately, Misha ends up tucked up against the armrest of the couch with Jensen in front of him using his shins as a back rest. It makes sense, really, because the couch doesn’t face the TV so you have to sit sideways on it if you want to see anything. Misha’s legs hurt before the first set of commercials, but he’s not about to unbend his knees and make Jensen move. That would just be…rude.

“God, people are gonna love this,” Jared says as he scrolls through his phone during the second commercial break.

“Really? You really think that?” Jensen asks.

Misha presses a hand to Jensen’s shoulder, a warning not to be unkind with Robbie in the room.

“Yeah, dude. Especially that part where you look into the camera.”

Jensen grumbles and shifts, which forces Misha to move his legs. He spreads them apart and straightens one of them out. Jensen scoots back so he’s between his legs, and he props his arm up on Misha’s bent knee and leans his weight against it. Like straight, married dudes do.

“You don’t think we should’ve changed Siobhan and Kristen being a couple in real life, do you?” Robbie asks, directing the question mostly at Misha.

Misha takes a moment to observe the way Jensen is sitting between his legs. He then turns back to Robbie and responds, “No.”

“Why would we have changed that?” Jared asks.

“It implies that Jensen and Misha are a couple in real life,” Rob Benedict answers from the kitchen area. Misha had almost forgotten he was in the room.

Deadpan, Jared says, “I don’t see why anyone would think that.”

Instead of doing the logical thing and moving away from Misha, Jensen scoots back even more. The denim of their jeans rubs together near Misha’s crotch, which is fine. It’s cool.

“Rob, did you get that on the first read?” Misha asks, straining to turn his head around so he can see Rob.

“Uh, I guess? I don’t know, it seems pretty intuitive to me.”

“Huh,” Misha responds, turning back toward the TV.

“Well that’s just great fucking news,” Jensen mumbles low enough that only Misha hears.

In a moment of brave insanity, Misha puts his mouth right up against Jensen’s ear and says, “You know you like it.”

Jensen stiffens but doesn’t move away.

When the episode ends, they all pull their phones out to see what the initial reaction is. Misha’s Twitter is a mess, but he sifts through enough of his mentions to see that the response to the episode is overwhelmingly positive. He doesn’t come across anything saying that he and Jensen are a couple in real life. People care too much about Destiel to really give a shit about the actors who play Dean and Cas. He feels stupid for being so narcissistic.

Misha is kind of aware when the others say goodnight and leave Jensen’s trailer, but it isn’t until Jensen moves out from between his legs that he actually takes his full attention away from his phone.

Jensen rubs his eyes and sniffles a little. His hair is ruffled and his shirt is askew. Goddamn.

“That was good,” Jensen grudgingly says.

“Do you think–never mind.”

“Spit it out, Mish.”

“The subtext–do you think the fans like the idea of Dean and Cas because of the way we, you know, act in real life?”

Jensen turns a confused look on him. “What?”

“Us being…close. Could that be where the subtext is coming from?”

Jensen’s brow furrows. He licks his lips and gives Misha a onceover. “You mean, like, how we’re friends?”

Misha deflates. “Yeah, Jensen, like how we’re friends.” He stands and cracks his back. “I’ll see you later.”

Before Misha takes a step toward the door, Jensen grabs his wrist and says, “Wait. Do you–never mind.”

“Spit it out, Jens.”

He stands so they’re eye-to-eye. “You said you’re not straight. Do you, um, like me?”

Misha pats his cheek condescendingly. “Aw, aren’t you cute.”

He doesn’t wait for Jensen’s response before bolting out the door.


For the next week or so, it’s uncertain whether Jensen is avoiding Misha or Misha is avoiding Jensen. In any case, they hardly speak to each other. Jensen seems grumpier than usual, but that could just be Misha projecting his own feelings onto his friend.

Honestly, Misha’s completely forgotten all about the 200th episode and that night in Jensen’s trailer and the feel of Jensen’s warm back up against his front and–he’s forgotten about it all by the time Jensen knocks on his trailer door one Tuesday afternoon.

“Subtext,” Jensen says as he pushes past Misha and stands in the middle of his trailer with his hands on his hips.

“Is this a word association game? Do I need to say the first thing that comes to my mind?”

“What if all of this is our fault?”

“Most things are my fault, so you’re going to have to be more speci–”

“The subtext!” Jensen throws his hands up and paces in a comically small circle. “What if it’s our fault that people want–that people like–that people didn’t hate the episode like I thought they would! What if it’s because we’re…it’s because we…”

“We what, Jensen?”

Jensen’s eyes run up and down Misha’s body. He scans his face. He stares at his lips. He licks his own lips.

Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life.

It takes Jensen three deliberate, angry, manly steps to cross the room and gather Misha up in his arms. He puts one strong hand around his waist and the other on the back of his neck and he kisses him so hard and masculine that it almost breaks his nose like that one scene in Brokeback Mountain.

(Not that Misha would ever tell Jensen that. He would probably be mortified to hear that Misha’s even seen that movie.)

When Jensen eventually pulls away, he doesn’t have the surprised, embarrassed, ashamed look on his face that Misha expected. Instead, his lips are slightly parted and puffy, his eyelids are hooded, and his eyes are glazed over as they’re stuck staring at Misha’s lips.

“Jensen?” Misha whispers.


He leans in and nuzzles his nose against his cheek. When Jensen doesn’t pull away in disgust, Misha goes ahead and buries his face against his neck and gives him some butterfly kisses. Right against his ear, he says, “You owe me 500 dollars.”

Chapter Text

Jensen opens his eyes and immediately closes them again. His head is pounding, it’s too bright in the hotel room, his entire body aches.

After a couple minutes of stretching and groaning and adjusting his eyes to the sunlight, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and ends up with a piece of notebook paper in his hand instead. In terrible handwriting, there are a few random words on the paper like “breakfast,” “crepe options,” and “hamburger meat with onions.” He bunches the paper up and tosses it aside before grabbing his phone and lying back down against the bed.

For some reason his email app is open, and a drafted email is waiting to be sent. It’s addressed to Jim Michaels, with the subject line “Get fuckd.”

In the body of the email is written, “I think I want to quit the show and open a food truck. I have a lot of great ideas for a food truck, and I’m writing up a menu right—”

Jensen deletes the drafted email and scrambles through his sent messages to make sure he didn’t actually email anyone. Thankfully, he didn’t.

He checks his text messages next and finds that the only person he texted yesterday was his wife. Thank fucking god.


I’m wearing the underwear you bought me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The pair I said I’d never wear in a million years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m wearing it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Jensen’s eyes widen and his face heats up as he stares at his phone, the words blurring together. He tears the covers away from his lap and looks down at himself. The only thing he’s wearing is a pair of peach-colored boxer briefs that are too big on him.

The door opens, and Jensen stupidly tries to cover himself as Misha comes into the room with two cardboard cups of coffee. Jensen sits up quickly and accepts the coffee even as his peach boxer briefs are revealed.

“So, uh,” Jensen starts, followed by clearing his throat.

“Get a good night’s rest?” Misha asks seriously as he packs up his luggage.

“I don’t know, did I?”

Misha whips around and cocks an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d take advantage of you just because you had a grizzly bear over your dick?”

“Oh god. Was that the pair I was wearing?” Jensen drops his face into his hands.

“Babe, you showed them to me while we were onstage. I couldn’t stop you.”

“Yeah, I know. I remember. It’s just—never mind.” He’s not about to tell Misha that he’s actually glad it was the grizzly bear pair and not the tiger pair.

Misha takes a seat in an armchair and looks at Jensen curiously. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than black boxer briefs.”

“Yeah, well, Dee stuck those in my suitcase as a joke and I put them on while hungover yesterday. I figured Jared would think they’re funny.”

“And when exactly would you be showing Jared your underwear?”

Jensen sighs and laughs tiredly. He crosses the room and takes a seat in Misha’s lap, the peach underwear looking ridiculous as it stretches across where his legs are spread around Misha’s thighs.

“It was funny how you, uh…” Misha looks down and rubs his hands against Jensen’s thighs. “You acted like you had no idea that I wear orange underwear.”

“Well, I wanted to get you to show it off,” Jensen replies flirtatiously.

“Yeah, you wanted to get me to do a lot of things during that panel.”

Jensen tilts his head back in embarrassment. “I know. I was so fucking drunk.”

Misha shakes his head affectionately. “You just. Had to show your bear boxers to me. Right then and there.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and extricates himself from Misha’s lap. “I know I made a fool of myself, no need to rub it in.”

With a laugh, Misha comes up behind him and wraps him up in a tight hug, which is kind of awkward since Jensen is mostly naked. “I had a really fucking hard time dealing with you.”

Jensen turns around in his arms and presses a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, well, thank fuck for your endless patience.”

Misha’s face suddenly turns hard. He walks Jensen backward to the bed and pushes him onto it. He falls on top of him and looms over him, a dark look in his eye.

“I’m at the end of it now,” Misha explains before leaning down and kissing the shit out of Jensen.

Jensen whines in surprise and then finds purchase in Misha’s hair as he arches up against him.

After a minute, Misha pulls away and mumbles, “You can’t show me your stupid underwear onstage knowing I wouldn’t be able to fuck you immediately.”

“Seriously? A bear on my crotch is what gets you going?”

“You were flirting with me the whole time.”

“I always flirt with you the whole time.”

Misha kisses the bolt of Jensen’s jaw. “You’re not usually so...drunk.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe I showed you my fucking underwear.”

Misha laughs softly and rubs Jensen’s hip in reassurance. “I was so embarrassed for you.”


They kiss for a few more minutes, Misha taking his time to help Jensen calm down. He’s obviously trying to take his mind off of things, but Jensen can’t help it.

“We came back here last night and I took my pants off, didn’t I?” Jensen asks.

“You know, I liked the bear on the front, but what really got me was the entire forest scene on the back.”

Jensen closes his eyes and ignores Misha’s butterfly kisses all over his face.

“I made you change into mine before bed. I didn’t want to wake up next to a bear this morning.”

Jensen grins. “What, so I’m not a bear?”

Misha laughs out loud at that, then he abruptly stops laughing and looks down at Jensen as he responds seriously, “No.”

With a growl, Jensen rolls both of them over until he’s the one on top of Misha. He pushes Misha’s t-shirt up over his head as he says, “Why didn’t we fuck last night?”

“You weren’t in the mood,” Misha replies as he fixes his hands to Jensen’s hips and stares at his crotch. “You were really invested in coming up with a menu for your food truck. You also, um, cried a couple more times.”

“When have I ever wanted to open a food truck?”

“Never. It was fucking hilarious though.” Misha rubs his hands gently up and down Jensen’s sides. “I snapchatted a lot of it to Danneel.”

“You what?” Jensen yells, his fingernails digging into Misha’s chest.

“Alright, relax. She eventually told me to stop because she was so embarrassed for you.”

Jensen shakes his head and tries to focus more on the hard cock under his ass. He leans down and kisses Misha slowly.

“I mean, I didn’t stop texting her about it though,” Misha says between kisses.

Jensen groans and rolls over to the other side of the bed. Misha comes up behind him and peppers his shoulder in kisses while he slides his hand down the front of Jensen’s peach boxer briefs.

“C’mon, baby, I suffered a lot of foreplay yesterday with no payoff,” Misha says softly. “And I took care of your drunk ass all night.”

Jensen sighs dramatically and turns over so they’re facing each other. He sets his jaw in annoyance before leaning forward and kissing Misha. Unsurprisingly, Misha grabs the back of his head and pushes his tongue into his mouth so quickly that Jensen can’t possibly stop it from happening. Not that he wants to.

“M’sorry I was so drunk,” Jensen says as they continue kissing. “I acted like an idiot.”

“Yeah, you did.” Misha laughs and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I have so much dirt on you now.”


Misha strokes a thumb over Jensen’s ear. “I’m not gonna use it. You’re already suffering enough as is.”

Jensen slides his hand down Misha’s side and toys with the waistband of his jeans. “Get out of these. Let me make it up to you.”

Misha flips over onto his back and fumbles with his fly. He gets his jeans all the way to his knees before Jensen gasps and buries his face in the crook of his arm.

“You can’t possibly be surprised by this,” Misha says through a laugh as he rubs his crotch, and the face of a grizzly bear, up against Jensen’s thigh.

Chapter Text

They don’t even make it into the elevator.

Misha smacks Jensen’s ass in the hallway and grabs him by the hip, putting his mouth right up against his ear. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Jensen laughs and wiggles his butt back against Misha’s crotch. “You gonna do something about it?”

“I’m gonna get those stupid boxers off of you as quickly as possible.”

There are a few other people on the elevator ride up to Jensen’s hotel room, but Jensen is wobbly on his feet and almost knocks into somebody, so Misha puts a subtle hand on his lower back to steady him.

Once inside the room, however, Misha slams the door shut and drops to his knees in front of Jensen, making quick work of his belt and fly and ignoring Jensen’s giggles above him.

“Rawr,” Jensen says stupidly once there’s a grizzly bear in Misha’s face.

Misha rolls his eyes as he yanks the boxer briefs down, but Jensen puts a hand on his head to stop him.

“Wait, wait, wait. You didn’t see the back,” Jensen says.

He turns around, and Misha has to choke back a laugh at the sight of a forest scene covering Jensen’s ass. 

“Why the fuck do you have these?” Misha asks seriously.

“Shut up, I love them.”

Misha pinches Jensen’s ass and goes back to pulling the underwear off. Jensen isn’t hard, so Misha buries his face in his ass and reaches around to try to wake up his dick. He licks and sucks at his hole in a steady rhythm despite the fact that Jensen keeps stumbling forward.

“I haven’t cleaned back there lately, dude,” Jensen says uncomfortably. “I assumed after you passed out last night that we wouldn’t be getting kinky this weekend.”

Misha squeezes tight on his cock and prods his tongue even further into his hole. Finally, Jensen starts to get hard.

“I have a pair with snakes on them, too,” Jensen says nonchalantly. “Oh! And a lizard face pair. I should show you sometime.”

Misha pulls away at once and gets to his feet, shoving Jensen back, causing him to stumble and giggle all the way to the bed. He kicks his pants and boxer briefs off where they’re still wrapped around his ankles. Misha picks the underwear up by the face of the grizzly bear and throws them as hard as he can across the room, and Jensen laughs so hard there are tears in his eyes.

“I’m at the end of my patience, Jens.”

“Oooh what are you gonna do about it?” Jensen responds with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Misha reaches for his own belt buckle, his eyes locked on Jensen. “You’re gonna suck me off,” he tries.

“C’mon, that’s no fun. You know I use too much teeth when I’m drunk.”

“Well, I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re this drunk. Your cock is already soft again.”

Jensen looks down at himself curiously before lying flat on his back and throwing his arms out to the sides. “Yeah, I drank too much.”

Misha deflates and puts his pants back on before taking a seat next to Jensen. “OK, how ‘bout you take a nap? Does that sound like a better idea?”

Jensen moves his arm like dead weight until his hand hits Misha’s hip. “Cuddle with me.”

As Misha lies down next to him, he says, “I’m gonna remind you tomorrow that you said the word ‘cuddle.’”

“Mm.” Jensen grabs Misha’s arm and puts it around his stomach.

“You’re gonna be so fucking embarrassed.”

Jensen huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Fuck.”

Chapter Text


“Babe, check Misha’s Twitter,” Danneel calls from the kitchen.

“I’m a little busy right now!” Jensen shouts back as he buttons a onesie over Arrow’s belly. 

“It’s really important!” Danneel argues.

Jensen rushes with Zeppelin’s diaper and onesie and then sets the twins in their cribs. They’re good sleepers, so they don’t require too much attention at bedtime. Still, Jensen sits close by while they fuss, and pulls out his phone. 

He scrolls aimlessly through Misha’s Twitter wondering what he’s supposed to be looking for when suddenly his thumb freezes right over a picture of his friend in a tight black t-shirt. Jensen immediately brings the phone closer to his face and zooms in on Misha’s chest. 

“Fuck,” he says under his breath.

His eyes nearly bug out of his head when he sees the video of Misha wrapped around a poll with his pecs popping. He just saw the guy a month ago, how could he have possibly gotten so jacked in that short of a time.

Once the twins are out cold, Jensen sneaks out of the room and finds Danneel and J.J. in the kitchen. He goes up behind Danneel and puts his hands on her hips.

“Did you know he looked like that?” he whispers in her ear.

“He told me he’s been working out a little more, but I guess he was underselling himself. Are the twins down?”

“Yeah, they’re good.” He pulls the baby monitor out of his back pocket and sets it on the counter. “I’m not gonna see him until San Diego.”

“Aw babe, I’m sorry. That’s a long time to wait before you get to squeeze those biceps.”

Jensen moves away from Danneel, leans back against the counter and watches J.J. filling in a coloring book at the kitchen table. 

“Oh my god, Jensen, we can have sex tonight if it’ll make you feel better.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. I just–he just–he should’ve told me he was working out. It would’ve been nice to, you know, be prepared or whatever.”

Danneel bursts out laughing but quickly covers her mouth to keep quiet. Their house might be big, but the twins always wake up at the sound of their parents’ voices. 

“What’s funny, Mommy?” J.J. asks, turning around in her chair to look between the two of them.

“Nothing, sweetie, Daddy just made a funny joke. It’s almost time to get ready for bed, OK?”

“A month. A fucking month,” Jensen mutters under his breath.

A month later, Jensen runs into Misha in their hotel lobby in San Diego, and he definitely doesn’t ogle his button up and jacket in hopes that he’ll magically be able to see through them.

“It’s 80 degrees outside, Mish,” Jensen greets.

A slow grin spreads across Misha’s face. “Don’t worry, I have a ticket for you.”


“For the gun show later.”

Jensen’s entire face heats up. “I’m gonna kill Danneel.”

Misha winks at him and walks away.

Later that night, much, much later, they’re all hanging out in Jared’s hotel room together. Jensen is five and a half drinks in.

“Dude, Misha, what’s going on with you?” Jared asks as Misha removes his jacket on the other side of the room. “Why are you so buff all of a sudden?”

The whole room goes kind of quiet as they look to Misha for some kind of explanation. He’s now only wearing a Family Business Beer Co. t-shirt and it’s at least two sizes too small. Even from 10 feet away, Jensen can see the way the hem of the sleeve is straining not to give up and tear against Misha’s bicep.

Misha shrugs. “I don’t know, I started lifting. Is it really that noticeable?” His eyes flicker over to Jensen then back to Jared. 

“That depends on what size t-shirt that is,” Rich cuts in.

Misha looks down at himself. “Um, I think it’s a large. Jens, what’d you send me?”

“A large,” Jensen responds, but his voice breaks as if he’s about to cry.

“Are you OK, Jensen?” Rob asks sincerely.

Rob is sitting right next to Jensen, so it’s easy to turn his head toward him and just nod.

“Are you benching?” Jared asks, and then he has the audacity to cross the room and hover over Misha, taking one arm between his hands and examining the muscle. “How much can you lift?”

“Um,” Misha says. “I don’t know. I just go to the gym and do some curls. Pull-ups and chin-ups, too. That kind of stuff.”

Jensen shifts awkwardly on the bed and tries to ignore the way his entire body just responded to Misha casually talking about doing pull-ups and chin-ups as if that’s something that everyone can easily do. The last time Jensen tried to do a pull-up he had to take a break from exercising for a week. 

“Let’s arm wrestle, dude,” Jared suggests.

“What?” Misha answers.

“Arm wrestle! Come on!” 

Jared drags a small table out from next to the mini-fridge and gets situated on one side of it. He puts his elbow on the table and holds his palm up, waiting for Misha to grab it.

Misha looks at it for a second before shrugging once again and then putting his own elbow on the table and clasping Jared’s hand.

Rich stands between them and counts them off.

Misha takes Jared down in about four seconds.

“No. This is impossible,” Jensen says as his drunk body carries him across the room and sets his own elbow on the table. “There’s no way you’re that strong.”

Misha smiles and squints at him. “If you’re so confident, then what are we wagering?”

“A blowjob,” Jensen replies on autopilot.

Rich and Rob both laugh as Jared complains about them being gross. 

Misha says, “Deal,” as he takes Jensen’s hand.

When they start, Jensen puts all of his fucking might into it and manages to keep his arm up for a solid seven seconds before he gets distracted by a vein in Misha’s bicep and a sheen on his forearm and then he’s done for. 

Before Misha can even gloat over his victory, Jensen grabs him by the hand and drags him toward the door while saying, “Bye, guys, we gotta get going.”

“You’re disgusting and shallow!” Jared yells as they leave.

In the hallway, Jensen finds an abandoned corner with a broken vending machine and pushes Misha up against a wall. He doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he stares at his arms and pushes his sleeves up as far as they’ll go. He runs his hands down the front of his shirt to feel his massive pecs, then he moves onto his hips and isn’t met with the usual squish of Misha’s love handles. It’s all sharp edges and hard lines, and Jensen can’t help but rub his crotch against Misha’s and let out a filthy groan.

“Babe,” Misha protests as Jensen tries to kiss him. 

Jensen manages to get one solid kiss on the lips in before Misha uses his bulging muscles to push him away.

“I had no idea you even liked muscles,” Misha comments.

Jensen rubs Misha’s arms and stares at them some more.

“Alright, c’mon,” Misha says, exasperated. He bends down and catches Jensen behind the knees, lifting him up around his waist like he weighs nothing and slamming him back into the opposite wall. “You still owe me a blowjob.”

Chapter Text

When Jensen agreed to go out to dinner with Misha, he wrongly assumed that Misha was a normal person. Despite everything Jensen’s seen of Misha - from the bizarre sweaters to the poetry written on napkins and then promptly thrown into the trash at the end of lunch some days - since he met him a couple months ago, he for some reason believed Misha would pick a regular restaurant for them to go out to eat.

As soon as they walked in though, Jensen thought, of course, and wondered how he could’ve ever believed Misha would take him somewhere that doesn’t have succulents planted directly into the bar counter.

“So, uh, have you been here before?” Jensen asks as they sit in clear plastic chairs across from each other.

“Nope,” Misha answers easily. “I’ve been meaning to try it.” He starts to open the menu in front of him but then closes it without even looking at it. He folds his arms over the table and looks intently at Jensen. “You’re more of a steak and potatoes guy, aren’t you?”

Jensen huffs a laugh and doesn’t look up from his menu. So far, he hasn’t recognized a single fucking dish on here. “That’s an easy assumption, I took you to a steakhouse last week.”

“And I enjoyed it immensely.”

Jensen lifts his eyes just enough to see Misha smiling at him. His own smile makes its way to his face as he turns his attention back to the menu. He doesn’t really know what he and Misha are doing exactly. They keep...asking each other out, he supposes. They’re building a friendship, but it’s not going the same way as Jensen’s other friendships. He’s used to sitting next to each other drinking beer at a bar, playing video games at home in the middle of an afternoon - not smiling at each other across the table at a fancy New Age restaurant.

As Jensen is deep in thought and not actually reading anything on the menu, the server comes up and greets them. She asks for their drink order, and Misha snatches the menu right out of Jensen’s hands.

Jensen blinks up at Misha, confused, then watches as he hands both closed menus to the server and says, “We’ll have the three least ordered items on the menu. And bring us whatever the bartender’s favorite drink is.”

It takes the server a second to accept the menus from Misha’s hand. She then asks, “Are you sure?”

Misha winks at Jensen as he answers, “I’m sure.”

The server huffs a laugh then and walks away.

Jensen clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. He can’t decide if he’s mad at Misha or in love with him. On the one hand, Jensen was at a complete loss as to what to order and he didn’t want to have to make the decision for himself and accidentally get something disgusting. On the other hand, he’s probably going to eat something disgusting anyway.

“So, what was it you and Jared were talking about today that you told me you’d tell me later?” Misha asks apropos of nothing.


“You know, he was telling you some-”

“No, I know that,” Jensen interrupts with a shake of his head. “Is that how you always order at restaurants?”

Misha tries to fight a smile. “If the place has weird food, yeah. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just might not ever go out to eat with you again.”

That makes Misha laugh hard, which makes Jensen’s stomach drop just a little. “Oh, really? I’m already past the limit of your adventurous side?”

Jensen raises a finger up in the air and shakes his head. “Thinking I have an adventurous side was your first mistake.”

The server returns with two gray drinks and calls them Something Something Tequila Something. Misha raises his up, so Jensen toasts it and they drink. It’s fucking amazing.

Two Tequila Somethings later, their food arrives. Everything is plated beautifully, but Jensen isn’t fooled. Lucky for him, Misha asks the server to explain each dish. Unlucky for him, that’s how he finds out that he’s about to eat brains and fried thymus.

“You’re not gonna puke, are you?” Misha asks as he takes a fork in hand and pokes at the brains.

Jensen makes an offended face at him and picks up a sweetbread between his thumb and index finger. He puts the whole thing in his mouth and crunches down on it, eternally grateful that they’re fried or else he really might’ve puked.

“This is gross,” Jensen says through a mouthful of sweetbread.

Misha takes a hearty bite of brains and makes a curious face as he chews. When he swallows, he says, “Yeah.”

They order more drinks and eat off of each other’s plates and try to describe how everything tastes. The drunker they get, the better the food tastes. At one point, Misha mixes several items together on his fork and holds it out for Jensen to try. Without even thinking about it, Jensen leans over and accepts the bite. It tastes too good to care that Misha just fed him right off his own fork.

They manage to clear their plates and genuinely thank their server for a great meal. Jensen relaxes back in his chair and studies Misha for a second. He looks so ordinary sitting there, wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin and then neatly folding it on the table. Jensen doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to predict what Misha’s going to do or what he’s going to say. He imagines he’ll spend the entirety of their friendship feeling surprised at every turn.

“What?” Misha asks with a soft smile on his face.

Jensen shrugs. “Nothing. Just thinking...that was really fun.”

“So you’ll go out with me again?”

“I mean, I still hate you, but I also like you. So yeah.”

“You’re thinking this friendship’s gonna be a lot of work, huh?” Misha asks with a wink.

Jensen laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, something like that.”

They sit and talk for a while after that, waiting until they’ve sobered up before leaving the restaurant together. Jensen forgot that the place was a hole-in-the-wall joint on a city street where they had to parallel park a long way away. He complains about it as they walk to their cars together, but he doesn’t really mind the extra time with Misha.

“I have a confession to make,” Misha says as they approach their cars.


They stop, and Misha turns toward Jensen with a hand pressed nervously to the back of his neck. “I’ve never done that before. Ordered food that way.” He drops his hand and shrugs. “I did that to impress you.”

Jensen huffs a laugh and takes a step forward. He looks at Misha. Misha’s eyes flicker down to his lips. Easy as anything, Jensen puts a hand on Misha’s hip and leans in for a chaste kiss. He pulls back just barely and says, “It worked,” before leaning back in.