Neon Glow in the Cold, Cold Snow
Title: Neon Glow in the Cold, Cold Snow
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Word Count: 800ish
Rating: PG
Summary: prompt from 12 Days of Christmas meme by mesophile : Jensen/Misha. An all-night shoot in wet, sub-zero weather is followed by a hot tub back at the hotel..... Bonus points for not being an established relationship.
x*x*x
"Come on!" Misha says, all white teeth and big blue eyes, cheeks flushed red and rosy from the cold.
"Misha..." Jensen drawls, hiding in his jacket, curled in for warmth, staring in disbelief at the loose t-shirt and plain blue bathing suit he's wearing.
He's mostly surprised that the bottoms don't have, like, unicorns or birds or something. He wouldn't put it passed him to work that.
"Jen, get in the damn tub and make yourself warm." And with that, Misha pivots around and slips his shirt off simultaneously, leaving Jensen to stare at the long, lean muscles of his costars back as he slides fluidly into the bubbling hot tub. Jensen licks his lips and bites on the bottom one, sucking it in thoughtfully when Misha turns to stare at him with a wide grin and steam curling the ends of his hair.
Making a decision, he slips his jacket and shirt off, kicking out his flip flops, all the while feeling those intense eyes burning on his skin.
The cold air hits his exposed skin, hardening his nipples and causing him to shiver violently. Misha makes a small sound and Jensen's turning around to look at him, slipping into the hot tub as quickly as possible.
Misha raises an eyebrow. "If that was a seduction attempt, I'm going to need to give you a few pointers." Jensen flushes, turning his head away from Misha as he burrows deeper into the water, the bubbling hot liquid slowly relaxing his muscles.
The two settle in a contented silence, the sound of the jets slowly soothing Jensen to sleep. He feels his eyes start to close, his perception on reality fading into background noise, soft unconsciousness awaiting, when something touches his chin, forcing his face up.
His eyes fly open, bright and so very green in the night. The neon lights from the pool illuminate the blue in Misha's eyes, his damp, slightly curled hair a tangled, tousled mess, and his full mouth parted, tongue darting out to wetten his lips.
"No falling asleep. Don't want you drowning there, bud. What would the fans think of me if they knew I'd let their precious Dean die?"
"Probably be worried about how Castiel would take it," he murmurs, too drunk on those eyes, those lips, that smile to fully realize what he is saying. He hears a small, sharp inhale from his costar and suddenly realizes how close they are, so close he can see his reflection in those cerulean irises.
Out of nowhere, he's now got a lapfull of Misha Collins, warm, wet, and lithe, pressed tightly against him.
"What are you doing to me, Jen? What are you doing?" He mumbles deliriously against Jensen's mouth, catching the soft groan and tugging at that tempting lower lip with his teeth.
"Mish," he breathes, framing the man's face with his broad, dripping hands, watching as drops of water slide slowly down his face, running across the perpetual stubble and defined jawline, down that long, graceful neck until they disappear back into the water. They stare at each other for awhile, green against blue, Jensen's fingers rubbing absentmindedly against Misha's temple and his hair. Misha purrs like a cat, leaning into the touch and closing his eyes, sighing, warm breath drifting across Jensen's face.
He huffs out an amused breath, leaning his forehead against the older man's.
"What are we doing here, Mish?" He asks quietly, still rubbing his temples.
Misha burrows into Jensen, body plastered nearly ever place the other man's body is, jets vibrating low and soothing in the clear, warm water.
"Keeping warm, stupid." And Jensen smiles.
x*x*x
Schmoop and cold weather! Yaaaay. Feedback is nice, yes? Almost like a Christmas present!