I bet Jensen and Misha text each other while they’re tweeting. One of these days, one of them is going to slip up and tweet something that was meant to be texted. If you know what I mean.
... if they ever tried to film a Destiel sex scene Take 1: Jensen and Misha:
*are on bed* Jensen:
*in a bad accent* gonna show you the magic Misha: Jensen: Misha:
*pushes Jensen's face away* Takes 2-5: Jensen and Misha:
*stare into each other's eyes* Jensen and Misha:
*start giggling* Take 6: Jensen:
who the hell let Jared in here??? Take 7: Jensen and Misha:
*encounter problems taking each other's clothes off* Take 8: Jared:
*from behind camera* can I join? Jensen:
no. go away. Jared:
but I love you! Jensen: Jared: Jensen: Jared:
baby come back Jared:
you can blame it all on me Jensen:
get him out of here Take 9: Misha:
*hooded eyes, bedroom voice* dean... Jensen:
yeah, cas? Misha:
dean... i always come when you call... Jensen:
... goddammit misha
same. i'm waiting for jensen putting a picture of misha laying in bed or something and captioning them with "sounds like somebody is having a hard time #bestbros #nohomo #brobonding"
honestly that sounds more like something Misha would tweet the night before a convention, and he’d go to sleep smiling, all proud of himself - and then he’d come on stage the next morning with pen on his face that says “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE” in mirror writing. Jensen figured Misha would see the writing in the mirror when he woke up and he’d wash it off, but Misha didn’t bother preening, so doesn’t realise he’s being scolded for tweeting unsolicited nap photos until the entire convention audience shrieks at him that Jensen does not like being low-key teased about his sexuality
Cockles on the boat/Cockles spa day. (I took liberties with the mysery screen writer that was apparently with the guys at the spa) nsfw, implied dom/sub, jmdv
“Let’s go to the spa for your birthday,” Jensen says, his thumb tracing Misha’s cheekbone gently in the sharp wind. “Your skin is looking a little worse for wear in your old age.”
Misha smiles, one of those rare, soft smiles that he saves for only Jensen, Vicki and Danneel. “Don’t lie to me, Ackles. I know you just want to go because it’s been a month since your last manicure.”
Jensen scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. He won’t lie to Misha- Jensen does want to go to the spa to get one of those rejuvenating face masks that Danneel had introduced him to,but also because he knows it’s something that Misha needs right now.
The sound of West and JJ laughing at the other end of the boat draws both of their attention, and they watch from where they’re tangled together in the captain’s chair as their children play hide and seek. Maison is hiding behind Danneel’s legs, while JJ is trying to drag West out from where he’s hiding under the bench seat.
“Maybe the girls can have the kids for the day,” Jensen continues, tilting his head slightly to look back at Misha. “It’s not everyday we both have a day off, we should take advantage.”
“West and Maison have been asking for another sleepover.” Misha muses. “Okay, we can go.”
Jensen is about to let out a ‘hell, yes’ when Misha cuts him off.
“We can go if you don’t ask me to do the accent. At all.”
“But-”
“The man we rented the boat off thought I was Russian!” Misha exclaims, making Jensen chuckle. Jensen had basically threatened Misha with no sex for a month if he didn’t do the India-Russian accent that day. It didn’t help that Jensen had called him Dmitri at the end of every sentence. By the end of the day, the kids had all been joining in, demanding Misha do his ‘Jensen accent’.
“Fine.” Jensen grumbles. “But that means no weird hippy spa treatments. I don’t give a fuck if it’s your birthday. Last time my skin smelt like sushi forweeks.”
Misha smiles, tightening his grip on Jensen’s waist. “Deal.” He says, glad that Jensen didn’t ask for unlimited spa selfies.
Jensen is in his element.They’re both wearing only a fluffy white robes and headbands. It’s freeing, somehow, for the both of them; knowing they can be in public but also be themselves, without the fear of anyone recognizing them.
Unless one of the geriatrics in the mud baths watches Supernatural, Jensen is pretty sure they’re both safe.
“Feel those years just fading away huh, Mish?” Jensen teases as they make their way to the steam room.
“I’m not that much older than you, asshole.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in my forties, old man.”
“Funny, I think I heard you calling me something different last night.” Misha smirks, and Jensen nudges him with his shoulder. “I’ll remember all of this when you turn forty.”
“Hey, I don’t mind being called an old man if you do it in an accent.” Jensen counters. If he’s honest with himself, he’s not entirely sure if he brings up the accent thing so much because he likes to annoy Misha, or because he’s obsessed with his India-Russian accent.
Misha rolls his eyes affectionately as they stop outside of the steam room. Misha shakes off his robe, shooting Jensen a sultry look, before hanging it on the hooks outside of the steam room. Jensen hesitates for a moment before doing the same, thinking of dead puppies and old relatives all the while.
Misha doesn’t stop staring into his eyes, and Jensen feels a shiver go down his spine. “Will you stop looking at me like that?” Jensen says, pretending to be angry.
Misha just smiles, before turning on his heel and walking into the steam room. Jensen is quick to follow.
Inside the room, Jensen can’t see anything that isn’t right in front of him, and Misha seems to have disappeared.
“Mish?” Jensen calls. He can vaguely see the outline of benches somewhere in front of him, but before he can make his way towards them, he feels arms circling his waist. Jensen hopes to god that it’s Misha and not some burly trucker who liked the look of him.
“Mish?” Jensen repeats. He can feel hot breath against the side of his neck, and then a tongue tracing his earlobe. He shivers.
“Catch me if you can.” Misha teases, giving Jensen one last squeeze before disappearing once again.
Jensen quickly darts after him, arms flailing around to try and grab him. His hands brush against Misha a few times, but he’s always too quick for Jensen to catch.
Misha is quick to put him out of his misery, though, as when Jensen nears the benches, he feels hands on his hips pulling him down. He ends up on Misha’s lap, cocks brushing.
The door of the steam room opens, but they both ignore it. It’s probably just someone leaving, knowing what’s happening between Jensen and Misha and not wanting to watch the show.
Misha lifts his hips upwards a few times, the slow pace driving Jensen mad. He doesn’t bother to complain, though, or try to move his own hips. He knows that Misha likes to feel in charge.
Jensen also knows that if he tries to move his hips, Misha will punish him by not letting him finish until they get home.
Jensen loops his arms around Misha’s neck, digging his blunt nails into the muscles of his shoulders. Misha hums, and Jensen knows it’s because he thinks Jensen is being good.
“Fuck, Mish.” Jensen groans. He doesn’t want to come now, though. He wants to do it with Misha inside. “Need you.”
Misha runs his hands up Jensen’s damp thighs, but a deep voice makes him freeze.
“Uh- did you guys forget that you told me to meet you here?”
Jensen and Misha look at each other with wide eyes through the steam.
There’s an awkward silence for a few moments as Jensen and Misha scramble to think of something to say.
“Uh- do we know you?” Jensen blurts out eventually. Misha gives him a ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ look, but Jensen ignores him.
“Jensen, I know that’s you.” Jeremy says in a tired voice.
“Jensen? Who’s Jensen?” Jensen asks. “My name isn’t Jensen.”
Before Jeremy can reply, Jensen is jumping off Misha’s lap and grabbing his wrist, before dragging them both out of the door.
“What the fuck was that?” Misha exclaims, not sure whether he wants to laugh or feel bad that they forgot that they hadn’t come here alone.
“Shit, dude, I don’t know,” Jensen replies, putting his robe back on quickly. Misha does the same. “I didn’t know what else to say.”
Misha lets out an exasperated laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Let’s go shower, and then we can leave.” Misha says, and Jensen nods in agreement and they both make their way to the shower room, hoping Jeremy won’t follow. “Work is going to be awkward on Monday.”
“Fuck. We fucked up.” Jensen groans. “Why did we even invite him?”
“You thought it would be a good idea, in case anyone spotted us here and we could use him as a buffer to make it seem like we’re not on a date.”
“Next time we’re just bringing Vic and Danneel.” Jensen swears. “Thank fuck Jeremy stopped us before we had sex. I don’t think I could have ever gone back to work.”
“At least it wasn’t Jared.” Misha says.
“True.” Jensen agrees. There’s a pause as they reach the shower room. “You think we can have a quickie in here?”
“Save it for tonight, Ackles.”
“What, your old man heart too weak to start again?”
Misha grabs the belt of Jensen’s robe and shoves him into the shower room, the robe falling to the ground as Misha pushes him against the nearest wall. “You’re going to regret that.”
Do you think when Jensen and Misha got their massages Misha started moaning low and sensual (on purpose) just to fuck with Jensen, knowing that he’d get instantly hard?
DO YOU THINK SO? BECAUSE I SURE DO!!!
Never forget what Misha sounds like when he does that ;)
No … at first it seemed pretty normal. Jensen would only mention MIsha here and there–the usual things like: “Seriously though, who talks like that?” or “That dude is a bucket of weird.”
But as the months passed and everyone on set got to know their new resident angel a bit more, Jensen’s comments started becoming more and more frequent, and maybe– just a little too curious. “Saw Mish earlier … he was coming from the store or something. He was going into his trailer with a bottle of lotion and some beer … I wonder what he’s getting up to?”
Jared could only shrug at his buddy’s sarcastic remark– refraining at the last moment from asking him: Why do you want to know?
But the “why” became clear a short while later, when it seemed like every other sentence became “Misha this” and “Misha that”. Whether they were initially talking about the guy or not; Jensen always found a way to steer the conversation in that direction. Like when they were eating nachos– it was nacho Tuesday and Jared was feeling much better after the stressful shoot once he had two, steaming plates in front of him– or he was, until Jensen held up a broken chip and said: “Hey, look! This chip is curved like Misha’s mouth. Seriously man, who has lips like that? They are like– flat, but still full and shit. It’s weird.“
The man chuckled, turning the chip with delicate fingers.
“And we all know what ‘weird‘ is code for”Jared grumbled without pause– his filter, way too warn at that point to care; and he really didn’t feel like talking about Misha over his lunch for the millionth time that week.
“What?” Jensen asked, softly setting down the chip, looking horribly confused and innocent– which only annoyed Jared more.
“You don’t think he’s ‘weird’, man! You don’t think about someone’s lips or what they do in their trailer each day or bring them up over a plate of nachos if you think they’re weird!”
Jensen gaped, shrugging helplessly as he furrowed his brow at Jared across the table.
“You know what?” Jared finally hissed, standing up and pulling his tray up with him. “How about you discuss all this with man himself? I’m sure he can give you much better insight on the shape of his lips than I can.” And with that, Jared stormed off, feeling a little guilty but a lot relived that he didn’t have to listen to anymore Misha/food comparisons for the moment.
Later that evening, he saw Jensen standing outside of Misha’s trailer door, hand hovering against it’s surface– unsure of whether to knock or retreat. When knuckles finally landed, Jensen instantly turned into a wriggling lump, smoothing down his shirt and straightening the buttons, shuffling from foot to foot and running his fingers through his short hair just before cupping his hand over his mouth to give himself a breath check– probably didn’t want to still smell like nachos, Jared imagined.
The next day– Jensen didn’t bring up Misha– not even once, but there was a permanent smile on his face and an extra bob in his step. And when he and Jared sat down for lunch, Jensen remained mostly quiet, only commenting here and there on the conversation Jared was finally in charge of carrying. But in the moments when they were both silent, chewing contently on their bites of BLT, Jared didn’t miss the way that Jensen held up a piece of bacon, looking at the curve of it, running the tip of his finger along its edge before smiling softly to himself– no longer curious, no longer wondering … no longer needing to share his interest. Jensen seemed peaceful, happy … like he was remembering something– something really, really good.
Soon, Jared was smiling too– after all,that’s all he’s ever wanted for the guy.
Jensen wouldn’t call himself a forgetful guy. Sure– he can’t remember what someone said ten minutes ago, or what he had for breakfast that morning, but he remembers the important things. He never forgets his and Danneel’s anniversary, or his friends’ birthdays. He remembers to put his cell in his pocket and to floss his teeth at night. But there’s just one thing he cannot for the life of him remember to grab each and every day …
Gum.
His necessary-for-life gum.
His I’m-going-to-be-grumpy-the-rest-of-the-afternoon-if-I-don’t-have-this gum
Jared always has some, but Jensen doesn’t chew the same flavor … and he’s not a picky guy either, but … he loves his gum.
He was already grumbling about it when he came on set– running into Misha right afterwards and deciding to vent his annoyances to the man. To his surprise, Misha smiled and pulled out a pack from his pocket– the exact same flavor and brand that Jensen likes.
“Thanks, Mish” he laughed, taking a piece and quickly popping it into his mouth.
The rest of the day, he found his friend whenever the old piece lost its flavor and turned into a chore rather than a treat.
Misha would just smile and give him another piece, seeming more than pleased to share.
Finally, as they wrapped filming, Jensen found the guy one last time, asking him for some “gum for the road.”
Misha grinned and tossed him the rest of the pack just before turning to walk away. Jensen called after him, asking him if he was sure.
Misha stopped, swiveling round on his heels and looking at Jensen with a laugh. “Yeah … I didn’t buy it for me.”
It started when they were shooting all the “Demon Dean” episodes– his hair was longer and Jensen found himself running his hands through it quite often. He enjoyed the feeling … he started to understand Jared’s need to do it 24/7. But when they began to get ready for a scene and Misha was standing in front of him– smiling and chatting … being the usual, hilarious friend he always was– Jensen wasn’t expecting to enjoy it so much when the man ran his hand through his hair, telling him that he had some strands sticking up. Goosebumps ate him alive and he kept getting yelled at later because “Demon Dean had to stop looking so happy.”
Just before the next scene he had with Misha … he took longer in the bathroom, making sure his hair looked extra messy and in need of fixing. In a few moments, his friend was twining his fingers through strands once more, muttering how Jensen looked like he had just survived a tornado.
This became the routine– Jensen messing up his hair … Misha fixing it. Chills, smiles … more chills. His heart sank like the titanic when he had to cut it again and go back to “short haired-normal Dean”.
But when he showed up on set the next day, smiling out of habit the moment he saw those blue eyes smile back … goosebumps devoured him again as Misha reached out, running his hand softly through his friend’s hair– as if that’s just another way to say “hello”.
And since it happens every time they see each other now … it may as well be.
They’re on stage, goofing around like they always do. They’ve got a running inside joke going about how little questions they can get away with and have realized that as long as they act like love-sick dorks, it’s pretty damn easy.
After settling down from a stomach-clenching bout of laughter, Jensen points to a hand in the audience. The girl is giggling nervously and he and Mish smile. “I have a very, very important question for you both.” With the exaggerated monotonous tone, they both know to expect something absolutely ridiculous, and they’re excited for it.
“Do you have any annoying sleeping habits? Snoring, talking in your sleep, etc…” she’s grinning wickedly.
Jensen laughs, “Uh, I actually snore pretty bad when I’ve been drinking. Danneel hates it!”
Misha brings the mic up to his mouth and in the most serious fashion informs the group that he’s a fairly quiet sleeper for the most part.
Are you kidding me?! Jensen thinks immediately. He rounds back to glare at Mish and blurts, “No you’re not, ya freakin’ lier!”
Jensen’s still glaringly put-off by the lie that it takes him a minute to notice Misha’s cheeks turn red and the way he’s flattened his lips together in a valiant attempt not to smirk. In the background, he can hear some shrieks from the audience.
And then it hits him like a Mack-ton truck. Fuuuuuuck. Bar none, this has got to be his worst slip up. Goddammit! Think before you speak, he chastises himself. Remember the underwear incident! And at least that time he’d somehow gotten away with it.
Misha’s laughing pretty hard when he says, “Yeah, and how would you know?” The crowd is hootin’ and hollerin’ and Jensen’s ready to strangle him.
Quickly, he prattles on a retort, “Don’t be cheeky, we both know you fall asleep at work all the time.”
The moment slips by, and Jensen thinks he’s won this round of slip-ups. There’s been a few over the years. Nice save, he thinks to himself.
COCKLES ART in a fic/art exchange for catchclaw’s beautiful fic here:
Misha kisses like a three-alarm fire, like a marching band playing in an earthquake. It’s catastrophic and glorious and Jensen’s pretty sure Rome is burning as Misha feeds him some tongue.
There are walls, stupid walls, and doors, and furniture, too, between them and the bedroom. Between here and having Misha in his bed. This is a problem, because now that Misha’s on him, hands quick and beautiful skin, there’s nothing else worth having except that, except Misha’s eyes looming up at him from way down in the pillows, his fingers knotted in Jensen’s hips.
