strengthcas:
YES. I can imagine that.
I mean, in Misha’s panel he told everyone how exhausted he was (basically). After having to work until past 3am. Then having to catch a flight to Chicago. (where he couldn’t even sleep on the plane thanks to an old man and his ‘tummy’)
But he wasn’t too exhausted to stay up and watch Jensen perform.
I am beyond.. words.. I have none. No words.
They just.. Don’t give a fuck anymore? They’re not even trying to hide it.
So yeah. I definitely think that they’re both exhausted right now. (or as soon as the concert was over with) And who knows. Maybe they went back up to Misha’s room and collapsed on the bed.
Misha telling Jensen sleepily how great he sounded on stage… Jensen smiling and blushing a little because damn it, he wasn’t expecting Misha to be watching.
And they just fall asleep together..
I’m trash. please ignore meeeeeeeee.
I’m trash too. please join meeeeeeee
The green room is buzzing with energy. Everyone still chatting with excitement from ending the second day of the convention on such a high note.
Especially with Jensen taking the stage.
Misha smiles as his eyes land on the man, laughing at something Rich is saying and nodding enthusiastically. Misha lets the sound of everyone talking wash over him, he’s tired and the couch he’s sinking into is slowly but surely starting to lull him to sleep. Yeah, it’s probably time he makes it up to his room.
There was talk about hitting the town after the cabaret, but Misha is already running on reserves, so he passes on the invitation.
He bids goodnight to the room in general, earning himself a few pats on the back and “sleep tight"s before he makes it out of the room. Luckily the layout of the convention center and hotel is such that he doesn’t need any handler to escort him back to his room, the set of hallways leading back to the elevator closed off to fans.
Misha is inside the elevator, button to his floor already pressed, when a hand shoots out to stop the doors from closing and Jensen steps in.
“Jen, what–” He must be more tired than he thought if he hadn’t noticed Jensen slipping out after him and following him down the hall.
“Hey old man, heading to bed already? Without me?” Jensen says with a smirk better suited for Dean Winchester.
“Not all of us are riding an adrenaline high, Mr. Rockstar,” Misha says, the last part of his sentence almost lost to his loud yawn.
“Wow.”
“Fuck you, I was up ‘til 3am running through some forest–”
“And then the old man wouldn’t let you nap on the plane, yeah, I know,” Jensen says, crowding closer to Misha.
“Jensen,” Misha warns, because he really is tired and would probably fall asleep before they made it very far.
“Yes?” Jensen sing-songs, all faux innocence as he lands a quick peck to the side of Misha’s mouth before nuzzling the side of this neck.
The elevator dings open and Jensen pulls away, lapel of Misha’s coat in his grip, tugging Misha out of the elevator.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Jensen says.
They stop briefly outside of Misha’s room, just long enough for Misha to hand over his electronic key card to Jensen who swipes them in.
Misha is so exhausted he collapses face first onto the bed nearest the door, fully clothed with his feet hanging off the side of the bed.
“Wow, you suck.”
“Mmmhmm,” Misha groans from the bed, eyes closed and too tired to form a proper response. He feels Jensen’s hands on his shoulders, tugging at this coat.
“Let’s at least get you out of this.”
Misha lays there, more asleep than awake at this point, as Jensen methodically removes his coat (“Hey, is this the one I gave you last Christmas?”) and his shirt before Jensen rolls him over so that he can remove Misha’s shoes, belt, and pants.
All Misha can do is groan out his thanks, or at least he thinks he says thanks, because Jensen just laughs.
“Alright, now get under the blankets.”
Misha groans but complies, knowing he’ll sleep better because of it.
There’s the rustle of clothes being removed and tossed onto the other bed followed by the sound of water running in the sink. Misha hears rather than sees the lights being flicked off, before there’s a dip in the bed next to him and the warmth of a body settles in next to him.
He hums, content, when he feels Jensen’s arms come around him, holding him to his chest.
“You were great out there,” Misha manages to mumble, voice thick with sleep.
“Did you like it?” the words are whispered against his neck.
“Loved it. You know I always like watching you. And the fans, they love it, too.”
“Hmmm,” Jensen hums, “I had fun.”
“Good,” Misha yawns, snuggling further into his pillow.
“Go to sleep, Mish.”
