FIC: A Multi-Panel Love Story (Part I)
Title: A Multi-Panel Love Story
Author: blue_fjords
Characters/Pairing: Jensen/Misha, Jared, Alona, brief appearances by other real people, OC
Rating: R
Word count: 18,600 words
Disclaimer: These are real people, whom I obviously don't know. It's also an AU, so totally made-up. No disrespect is intended.
Summary: Jensen's days are spent doting on his son and working on his graphic novel series with his best friend, Jared. Life's cool, but something could make it a whole lot better. Or make that someone.
Author notes: I went w/ the Jensen/Misha AU, where Jensen is a single dad and Misha is a teacher at his son's school. An awful lot of Jared crept in. And a little bit of Kentucky. Many, many thanks to paragraphs for betaing and cheerleading! Originally posted for cloudyjenn in the deancas_xmas 2010 Fic Exchange.
"Whaddya think, Squirt? Should the monster at the end of the book have a blue tongue, or a green one?"
Jensen looked over from the storyboard, a slight smile quirking his lips. His son was bouncing on the tips of his toes, his little hands clenched in the fabric of Jared's jeans as he wrestled with this most awesome of responsibilities. Jared tapped his foot against the rung of his stool in the Jeopardy theme song, humming along off-key, his hand poised over the paper attached to his drawing board.
"Blue!" It came out on the exhale, and Harrison heaved a great big sigh, as if he'd just achieved peace in the Middle East with that one decision. Jared nodded his approval, and began inking in his drawing with a lurid shade of blue.
"Stellar job, kiddo," Jensen congratulated him. "Now I think it's about time we left for school. I want to meet your new teacher before class begins."
Harrison joined him cheerfully enough, after a hair ruffle from Jared, of course, and Jensen thanked his lucky stars that Harrison was taking to school, despite the unfortunate incident with Ms. Katie. Three weeks into kindergarten, and Harrison's teacher had slipped on, no joke, a banana peel and was now in the hospital with a broken tailbone and several other broken bones. Jensen was a little hazy on the details, as Jared had picked Harrison up from school that day and he was laughing too hard to form coherent sentences.
"Looking forward to meeting Ms. Misha, Harrison?" Jensen asked as he helped his son into his windbreaker and took his hand.
"Uh-huh. I didn't like Mr. Tom, he smelled funny, and Mr. Michael didn't use special voices during story time…"
Jensen found himself nodding his head to his son's litany of the faults of Ms. Katie's substitutes as they walked down the sidewalk, and had to catch himself. "Look, buddy, no one's going to be the same as Ms. Katie, but it's your job to give the new sub a chance. Be respectful. Nice," he clarified when Harrison's brow crinkled at the big word. "This one's going to be with you until January."
"Do I have to be nice even if they're like Mr. Chad and bring us cookies that taste like ass?"
"Harrison! We don't use that word," Jensen said firmly. Dammit, Jared, you asshole.
"Even if they bring us Fig Newtons that taste like ass?"
Jensen growled, and Harrison dissolved into giggles. He was still laughing at his own daring genius when they made it to the crosswalk in front of the school, just two short blocks from the bungalow where Jensen and Harrison lived, and Jensen and Jared created their graphic novels. It was like "Two and a Half Men" without the drug-addicted 80's playboy. (Actually, that was Jared's term for it. Jensen had never seen "Two and a Half Men" and called the house "the house." He saved his brilliant turns-of-phrase for their graphic novels and the four English Lit grad students who sent them densely worded fan letters on the mythical themes demonstrated by the fart-joke-cracking monsters contained therein.)
Jensen helped his son hang up his jacket in his cubby hole ("No, I can do it, Dad!"), hung the jacket when it fell a third time, knocked it off again when Harrison's lower lip trembled so the boy could hang it himself, and looked around for the new teacher. They were one of the first ones there, just a couple other parents and a handful of five-year-olds - no one that could pass as Ms. Misha. Though Alona was smiling up at a strange man with his back to Jensen.
Way to go, Alona! He flashed her a wink and a thumb's up, and got a pair of narrowed eyes in return. She may have still been harboring a slight resentment towards him for setting her up on a date with Jared. 'Abysmal Failure' was the kindest thing that could be said for that experience. Jensen frowned right back. She obviously wasn't having trouble finding someone of true boyfriend material if she'd dragged a date with her to her daughter's school.
She smiled up at the guy again, they must still have been in the honeymoon phase, and nodded in Jensen's direction. Crap, he'd have to meet Alona's Man. Jensen preferred keeping his social interactions with strangers to a bare minimum, and he'd already allotted his daily time for small talk to Harrison's new teacher. Now he'd have to fake it with this guy, too.
"Jensen," she called out, squashing any hope he could disappear into the hall and wait for the sub there, "come here, I want to introduce you to the new teacher."
A loud shriek sounded from the storytime corner, and all three adults instinctively turned and took a step in that direction. False alarm as the shriek turned into giggles, which were quickly lowered to Indoor Voice level as Alona caught her daughter's eye.
"You mean our kids haven't scared her off?" Jensen mumbled, turning back to Alona and her boyfriend.
"It would take a bit more than a Macauley Culkin impersonation to get me running," the boyfriend said, brow furrowed in concentration. "I think it would have to be something more along the lines of an alien invasion." He gave a sudden wide grin and held out his hand. "Misha Collins. Your kids will be calling me Mr. Misha, not Ms. Misha, by the way. Less confusing for them."
"Uh," Jensen stammered, in the wittiest rejoinder known to man. At least he managed to shake hands well. Mr. Misha had nice hands, soft skin over wiry muscles and a strong grip.
"Don't worry, lots of people get thrown by the name," Misha confided. "I thought it'd get better when I started using the nickname, but…" He shrugged his shoulders, and Jensen realized rather belatedly that he was still holding the man's hand. Okay, mistook him for a woman and fouled up the handshake. Can't get any worse. He dropped Misha's hand and surreptitiously wiped his nervous sweat off on his jeans. Misha noticed.
"It's not catching," he said, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. "Unless you're going to legally change your name to Elizabeth."
"Your name is Elizabeth?" Alona asked, eyes wide with incredulity and a smirk playing across her lips. "I don't believe you for a second."
Misha held up his hands in mock surrender. "Take it up with my parents. I'm just lucky not to have been named LunarFlower."
Alona touched Misha on the bicep when she laughed, her head thrown back and the very picture of golden beauty. Jensen stifled a sigh. Flirting was really not a fun spectator sport. His eyes wandered to Harrison and Alona's girl, Veronica, wholly engrossed in a game of pretend. Probably 'zoo,' Harrison'd been obsessed with practicing lion roars and pouncing on 'prey' lately.
"He has brilliant technique," Misha remarked. Jensen looked up, pleased at the compliment for Harrison who was, of course, the most brilliant child to ever grace the Earth, and also that the sub knew when to stop flirting and pay attention to the kids. "Would you introduce us?" he continued, touching Jensen lightly on the arm.
"Sure." Jensen brightened considerably. Now things were working themselves out more like he'd expected. Except that Misha's hand…lingered…a bit on his arm. He gave a squeeze and drew it away a moment later. It probably meant nothing. He did have nice hands, though. "Harrison, come here and say hello to Mr. Misha."
Harrison ran right over and threw his arms around Misha's knees. "My dad thought you were a girl teacher."
Betrayed by my own flesh and blood! "He doesn't know what he's saying; they just teach them to mimic syllables in the ape house at the zoo."
Thank God Misha laughed at that. He crouched down until he was eye level with Harrison. "I was watching you earlier. You have quite an imagination."
"That's my biggest word! I know what it is." Harrison gestured Misha closer, and Jensen exchanged a look with Alona before leaning in, too. "People without imaginations are boring sadsacks," he whispered loudly in the vicinity of Misha's ear. Jensen cringed.
"Did your dad tell you that?" Misha asked with a grin.
"Hell, no!" Jensen exclaimed. Misha raised a brow at him, and Harrison gave him a particularly mulish expression. "Well, the boring bit, that was probably me," he amended. "The rest of it sounds like Jared."
Misha directed his smile at Jensen now, and Jensen's heart did a strange little backflip. "Who's Jared?"
"My partner." Misha's smile didn't slip, but Jensen hurried to clarify regardless. "My business partner, I mean, not my life partner; it's not like that. Jared's not goy. Um, gay."
Oh my God, shut up, you moron!
Alona was giving him a much too knowing look, and Misha was still smiling. Jensen just wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. This was why he always took business meetings with Jared, and the few times he'd gone to various comic book and graphic novel conventions, he'd sat frozen on the stage with Jared and deferred as many questions as possible to the other man. He just clammed up around strangers, and when he tried to fix it, he got disastrous results.
Harrison pulled Misha's ear close again. "My dad's gay," he stated matter-of-factly. "That means that he wants a boyfriend."
Oh dear God.
Alona rescued him, because she was a saint and this meeting was even worse than whatever had happened on that date with Jared, clearly.
"The other kids are starting to arrive," (they weren't) "and Jensen and I really have to get to work." (Jensen worked for himself, and he knew for a fact that Alona's show was on hiatus for another couple of weeks.) "You guys have a great day, okay? Be good."
Veronica ran over and hugged her mother, and Harrison demanded three high-fives before abandoning his father once more in favor of the storytime corner. Misha rose from his crouch and shook first Alona's hand, then Jensen's. He stood close, and Jensen got a whiff of his cologne, a slightly spicy scent. And wow, his eyes were this blue that went beyond blue. They were…very…blue. Sweet Jesus, I've forgotten how to string words together.
Jensen gave him a weak smile and dropped his hand like a hot potato. "I'll see you for lunch, Harrison," he called over his shoulder, already beating a hasty retreat.
Alona caught up to him outside the classroom. Jensen entertained the vain hope that she wouldn't say anything. It lasted for all of ten seconds.
"It wasn't that bad, sweetie," she said with a sympathetic smile.
"Oh, really? You can think of a way that could've gone worse? Let's see, I insulted him, tripped over my tongue, managed to mispronounce the word gay, which takes true skill, I might add, and to top it off, my son basically propositioned him on my behalf. So. Do tell me how that could have gone worse."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
"Thanks, you're a big help," Jensen muttered, holding the front door of the school open for her. He might have shown a total lack of social skills that morning, but he was not a complete Neanderthal.
"Look at it this way, Jen," she said, stopping at her car. "I know when a man is in to me. And that man? Was perfectly charming and gorgeous, and so not in to me. Damn, he grinned like a loon whenever he laid eyes on you."
Jensen stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you just humoring me?"
Alona rolled her eyes. "Do you think I would let a nice guy who's good with kids go if I thought I had a chance with him?"
"Point taken." His spirits lifted slightly, from the Pit of Despair to the Bog of Eternal Stench. It was an improvement.
"Bring Jared with you next time to contain your verbal diarrhea." She laughed at the face he made. "Now shoo, I have to get to work."
"I thought you were on hiatus?"
"I am. But the voice of Princess Flutterby needs a new, gas-efficient car. I'm singing the jingle for a toilet bowl cleaner commercial."
"Glamorous."
"Don't I know it." She got into her SUV which, Jensen agreed, was a total waste. "And don't worry about Mr. Misha!"
He tried not to. Luckily Jared was engrossed in finishing a couple of panels when he got back and greeted him with a grunt. Jensen didn't think he could hide all evidence of his morning from his face, and was thankful for the level of detail Jared was lavishing on their latest monster.
The Ninth Circle was born during Jensen's senior year at Austin when he met Jared, a freshman struggling with an English Lit course. Jared had showed up at the Writing Center for help with a paper and walked out with a best friend. And a draft of "The Short Story Form: Not Just Good Because It's Short" covered in red ink. Both boys had an affinity for video games, comic books, and genre TV, and both had needed to hide their geek status from various friends growing up. Jared was majoring in Undecided and minoring in Art; Jensen had almost completed his BA in Business, with a minor in English Lit.
The very first issue of The Ninth Circle was written on the back of two pizza boxes after a marathon session of Legend of Zelda. A mutual friend had photographed the boxes and run them in the school paper. It was the first time either boy had realized that they could be popular doing something they actually genuinely liked, and it was infectious. After graduation, Jensen got a boring desk job at a company he exorcised from his memory the minute Jared graduated, and they poured the money Jensen had made into launching The Ninth Circle. And after a couple of lean years, they caught the eye of an older graphic novelist and their names began to crop up in certain audiences.
They were lucky, Jensen freely admitted. It helped that Jared was such a people person, and that Jensen had a head for business. Lots of people wrote and illustrated graphic novels that never saw the light of day. But you could find The Ninth Circle in several different chain bookstores across the country, plus quite a few mom-and-pop places and specialty shops.
And being a successful graphic novelist gave one a certain allure. Well, to some people. It was how Jensen met Harrison's mother and had his one and only sexual encounter with a woman. ("What about those cheerleaders that time…?" Jared asked. "That wasn't, you know. Penetrative," Jensen replied. "Ew, dude! I'm eating here!") Jensen kept the personal info about her in a strongbox at the bank, but she hadn't looked back since the day she had plopped the baby in his arms and left with: "It's a boy, try not to raise an asshole." (They were still rather poor then, and sharing an apartment. Jared had wanted Jensen to sell his sperm because it was clearly magical, baby-on-the-first-try sperm. Jensen had told him to empty the Diaper Genie.)
But after Harrison was born, Jensen's love life took a nosedive. His sex life was still pretty healthy, but lately even that was drying up. He just didn't want a quick blow job and an insincere "see you later." Harrison was right - he wanted a boyfriend.
"DUDE!" The eraser hit him squarely between the eyes. Jensen blinked and reached for something with which to retaliate. "Don't even think about it! I've been yelling for you for three minutes! What the hell's with you?"
Jared looked more amused than put out.
"Nothing!" Jensen stared intently at his computer screen and the scene he was supposed to be working on.
"Uh huh. You are the worst liar I have ever met."
Jensen hitched his shoulders back.
"Ah-ha! That! That's your tell!" Jared cried, pointing in triumph. "What the fuck's wrong with you? Let me see, it didn't happen yesterday, it didn't happen this morning, the only time I wasn't with you was…oh my God. Harrison's new teacher. IS IT HIS MOTHER?"
Jensen almost fell off his chair. "WHAT? Are you insane? His mother's not the teacher, doofus, he's not even a woman."
"You almost gave me a heart attack, man." Jared clutched at his chest and took a dramatic breath of air. "Wait a second," he continued, his hands falling to his sides. "Dude. The new teacher's a dude?"
Jensen held his shoulders still through a supreme act of willpower. "Correct."
"'Correct'? 'Correct'? Oh, Jen, you've already fallen for the teacher, haven't you?"
"How the fuck do you do that?" Jensen burst out.
Jared waved his question away. "Dude, I know you better than you know yourself. So. Tell me about this teacher. Is his name really Misha, or was that a typo?"
"It's his name. And he's…" Jensen sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter what he's like. I acted like a complete idiot in front of him this morning."
"I'm sure you weren't -"
"Trust me, I was. We'll be lucky if Harrison doesn't get flunked on principle."
Jared rolled his eyes. "No, trust me. One dose of Padalecki Damage Control, and Mr. Misha will be begging for your number."
"He already has all the parents' numbers."
"One dose of Padalecki Damage Control, and Mr. Misha will be begging for your c -"
Jensen hit him right between the eyes with a stress ball. The ensuing fight led them from the studio into the living room, winding up in the kitchen with Jared's head in the sink and the soggy remains of Harrison's Fruit Loops in his hair.
"Uncle! Uncle!" he sputtered, a hand flailing behind him for Jensen and dinging the countertop instead. "Fuck, that hurt!"
"Serves you right, asswipe!" Jensen let him go and leaned back against the opposite counter, trying to catch his breath. Wrestling with Jared was always quite the workout.
Jared struggled to his feet and gave a shake of his hair. Milk droplets flew through the air, and a red Fruit Loop stuck itself to Jensen's cheek before falling to the floor with a soft plop.
"Looks like you have some cleaning to do, Papa Bear. I can't believe you mussed my hair. I'm almost mad enough to badmouth you to your massive crush, but because I'm such a great guy…"
"I'd prefer it if you didn't say anything at all," Jensen muttered. Dammit, there was milk all over the floor. He'd have to use the Wet Swiffer.
"Nonsense! I'm just going to go pretty myself up, then go pick up the cub and chat up this dude for you."
"Jared…" Jensen protested. Weakly. He really couldn't make it worse.
"Enough. As Disney's Robin Hood did say, 'Faint heart never won fair lady.' Or dude." He gave a broad wink and a bow, and marched from the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder, "I just need to fix my hair first!"
***
Jensen puttered around the house, cleaning, waiting for Jared and Harrison to get back. Jared was an utter slob, one of the reasons he didn't just live with Jensen and Harrison any more, since he was over all the time anyway. Cleaning was usually a soothing activity for Jensen, putting everything into its place and sweeping up the messes. Luckily for him, Harrison had inherited the trait, although his idea of 'everything in its place' included his toys as prominent features of each room in the house.
Cleaning only took so long, and when Jared had been gone half an hour, Jensen began to imagine the worst. Jared was telling Misha about the misunderstanding with the kittens from their very first comic book convention presentation. Or he was filling Misha in on Jensen's checkered past love life. Or Jared and Harrison were acting out the morning Jensen had discovered his first gray hair. He got antsier and antsier, and then a key turned in the lock.
Jared burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "Dude! Quit your worrying!"
"Daddy! Daddy!" Harrison exclaimed, running towards him with arms outstretched. "Mr. Misha is the coolest! We're going to make masks for Halloween! And Mr. Misha taught us to play a whole song on the kazoo! And Mr. Misha has been to Australia! They talk funny there! Mr. Misha is the coolest!"
"You said that already," Jensen said, giving his son a big hug. "I guess he must be doubly cool, huh?"
"Yup-yup-yup! Can I have grilled cheese for lunch?"
"May you have…"
"May I have grilled cheese for lunch?"
"Sure, squirt. Go get the stuff out, I just need to talk to Jared for a second."
Harrison went running off for the kitchen. Jensen fixed Jared with a firm look. Jared laughed.
"We talked about The Ninth Circle, dude. I swear that's all. Cross my heart. He was very impressed, by the way."
Jensen raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Hey, I'm as innocent as can be, Ms. Malloy." Jared shot him a grin. "But he's totally going to call you, very soon."
"Is that so?"
"Yup-yup-yup! Now come on, I'm starving. And I love grilled cheese."
***
Jensen didn't have long to wait, as it turned out. The very next evening his phone rang as he was loading the dishwasher after dinner. He didn't recognize the number and almost didn't answer it, but it was his own area code and the habit had been ingrained in him since he was a kid, so he reached for it and tapped the screen.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Jensen!" a cheerful voice greeted him. He didn't recognize it, but it sure sounded like the voice knew him.
"Um, yeah," he said, hoping he wouldn't have to admit that he hadn't a clue who he was talking to.
"Your name is on my list for the Halloween Party!"
Oh, shit. I'm going to kill Jared.
"Look, buddy, that was a one-time thing, and I was drunk, and I only went because my idiot of a best friend broke his foot and he gave me these puppy dog eyes, and what are you going to say to that?"
There was a silence on the other end, during which Jensen started to get the horrible sensation that he was not talking to who he thought he was talking to.
"That story sounds fascinating, truly, but I was calling about the kindergarten Halloween Party for next week. You're on the list Ms. Katie left me as a parent chaperone."
Holy fucking shit. He was never, ever going to be able to have a conversation with this man that he could look back on and…no. He was never, ever going to be able to have a conversation with this man, full stop.
"I'm so sorry," he managed finally. "Of course I'm being a parent chaperone. What…what do you need?"
He should volunteer to make cookies. He'd never made cookies before. Pictures, he could photograph the costume parade. Or was that considered creepy? What was it about Misha that made him act like he'd been raised in a barn and hadn't learned a lick of social skills since? Lick. Great, now he was thinking about Misha's neck, and wouldn't it be great to run his tongue -
"Actually, I wanted your advice. Ms. Katie's note says that the adults all dress to a theme, and this year it was comic book superheroes."
"Oh, yeah." He had a costume. It was a little embarrassing.
"And your partner mentioned that the two of you make graphic novels, so I figured, you'd probably know more about kinds of superheroes -"
"Constantine," he blurted out, interrupting Misha. "You'd make an awesome Constantine." He blushed, thankful that Misha couldn't actually see him.
"Constantine? Who's that? And how's the costume?"
"He's kind of an anti-hero. It's an angels and demons kind of comic book. Really cool imagery. Constantine's a white dude with dark hair, about your height and build, plus the costume's a snap. He wears a tan trench coat." Wow he made it through that whole thing without tripping over his tongue! New world record.
"Hmmm, sounds like a flasher."
"Oh, he wears pants! A plain dark suit and white shirt beneath the trench coat," he added.
"That's good. They don't allow flashers in the kindergarten, you know. I'd have to chase myself off with a pitchfork."
Jensen laughed much harder than the joke called for. Harrison wandered in from the living room, where he'd been watching his single half-hour of allowed cartoons for the day, curious to see what was so funny.
"What's so funny, Daddy?" he asked in his piercing whisper.
"Um, clothes. Is your show done?" he asked, covering the phone with his hand.
"Yup. I want a story before bed!"
"Go choose one and I'll be there in a minute." He uncovered the phone again. "Misha? Sorry about that. His Royal Highness has requested a story."
"We read Skippyjon Jones in class today."
"That's one of Harrison's favorites!"
"I gathered from the way he acted it out," Misha said drily.
"Sorry if that was distracting," he apologized again. "He's very…enthusiastic."
"I think he's brilliant. It's refreshing to be around a child who engages the world around him on such a level."
Oh my God, I want to fuck this man so bad.
He cleared his throat. "Thanks," he said, rather more gruff-sounding than usual.
"No, thank you," Misha said, laughing. "Anyhow, I'll let you go for story time. And someday we're going to have to have our own story time, and you can tell me about that other Halloween Party."
"It's really a boring story." Jensen wondered if his ear-to-ear grin sounded like something over the phone. "Hey, you need any Halloween Party help before next week, give me a call. I'm willing."
And willing to do so much more to you, too.
"Will do. See you soon, Jensen."
"Yeah. Bye, Misha."
He ended the call with a smile. Okay, one minor setback, but then Misha had totally implied that he wanted to spend some one-on-one time with Jensen. It was going to happen.
"DADDDDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYY! STORRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYY!"
***
Misha contacted him several times over the next week. He sent a picture of himself in a trench coat, with the caption "Constantine or Mad Whacker?" Jensen assured him that it worked perfectly. Privately, he thought the other man looked fucking hot, with his messy dark hair and laughing blue eyes. Then Jensen started the exchange of messages for the day, using the party as the excuse, of course. Jared rolled his eyes and told him to go jump Misha's bones, but he also previewed his opening text and declared it innocuous enough ("Though much too bland, come on, dude, you're not selling him carpet, you want to get carpet burns with him! If you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge."):
"DO WE NEED MORE TREATS FOR THE PARTY?"
Jensen had to agree with Jared, but it was too early to go for something more overt. Still, he inwardly winced at his text. You could never tell he made a good living as a writer from that text. But it did get him a response:
"NOTHING W/ PEANUTS! TOO MANY DAMN ALLERGIES."
Well, that took out most of Jensen's favorites. But now he needed to ask another question and prolong the conversation:
"COOKIES? OR BAGGED CANDY?"
The response was almost immediate:
"YOU BAKE?"
And sometimes one had to lie between one's teeth, for love. Or sex:
"I CAN MAKE SNICKERDOODLES."
Technically, he had never made snickerdoodles. But he did believe he was physically capable of making them, hence he could make them. And he was most definitely going to, based on Misha's reply:
"I LOVE THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS."
He'd taken to bringing Harrison to school and also picking him up, instead of Jared, and he was sure Misha's hand lingered in his that day when they shook hands at the end of school.
Jared came with him the day before the party to take Harrison home, leaving Jensen to help with the decorating.
"I have lights!" Misha announced after the kids had all filed out, Harrison (and Jared) with shit-eating grins and double thumbs up.
"Okay. Is, um, anyone else staying to help decorate?" Jensen looked around the empty classroom. Was he going to be blessed with Misha all to himself? It was just like the last three masturbatory fantasies he'd had.
"No, is that okay? Alona was going to help decorate, but when she heard you were going to be here, too, she suddenly wanted to be elsewhere." Misha raised his eyebrow.
"Oh. She can be, uh, flighty." Which was stretching the truth to the snapping point, and he'd have to make it up to her and sufficiently thank her for this opportunity. Maybe with a mansion. Misha was watching him with his intense blue eyes, and Jensen fumbled for something to say. "What did you want to do with this orange and black stuff?"
"Crepe. We're going to make streamers. I think. Though streamers sound a little boring to me, what do you think? Do you color outside the lines, Jensen?"
God, he was so close now. He smelled like chalk and play-doh and the granola and soy milk they'd had for snack time. Jensen couldn't look away from his mouth, the lower lip glistening in the ugly fluorescent lighting; couldn't stop imaging the white soy milk dribbling down his throat, leaving a milky ring around his lips. The moment stretched, until Misha sighed, the breath ghosting out across Jensen's lips. It was pure instinct that caused him to lean forward and capture Misha's lips with his own.
The kiss was gentle at first, neither of them touching except for their mouths, until Misha chuckled.
"What?" Jensen breathed against his lips.
"I was hoping you'd go for this," Misha said. His grin was blinding, it really was, and Jensen just had to kiss him again, in the corners of his lips, nibbling the plump lower lip and sucking it into his mouth, slipping his tongue inside Misha's grin and licking. Finally pulling him closer by the back of his neck and his waist, anything to get him closer and drink in that grin.
It was a miracle the room got decorated at all. Misha decided to eschew the streamers all together, and went for the minimalist approach, using the lights to highlight the masks the kids had been making over the past week. (Harrison's was green and warty, and had a lurid blue tongue.) Jensen took every opportunity he could to touch the other man, brushing his knuckles against his waistband, running his fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline with his thumb. Misha reacted like a cat, soaking up the attention and purring. They had to pause several times to make out with loud, sloppy kisses and hands hovering over buttons and waistbands. They broke apart with a start when the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day for the older students.
Jensen caught his breath as dozens of little feet pounded by the door and down the hall. Misha looked out of breath, too, he noted smugly, and his eyes were even wider than usual.
"I forgot for a moment that we weren't alone," Misha whispered conspiratorially.
Jensen laughed, a full-bodied laugh with his head thrown back and noticed Misha staring at him as his laughter died down.
"What?" he asked. He showed all his teeth when he laughed. Maybe Misha thought that was a turn-off?
"I really want you to laugh more." Misha laid his hand against Jensen's neck. "Please."
"Okay." Jensen grinned. "I can work on that."
Misha leaned forward and kissed him, a quick brush of lips. "I need to head to my other job now. But I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."
"Wait, what? You have another job?"
"Yup." Misha gave him an enigmatic little Mona Lisa smile. Dammit.
"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" he asked.
"All in good time. Good things come to those who wait. Judge not, lest ye be judged. To the baker of the snickerdoodles goes the answer."
Jensen threw his hands up in the air. "Have it your way. I'll see you tomorrow, Misha. With cookies." He turned to leave.
"Jensen! Wait, you forgot something!"
Jensen patted his pockets. "No, I didn't." He turned around to find Misha right on his heels.
"I can't believe you fell for that," he murmured, pressing their lips together for one final kiss. "Now you can go."
Jared and Harrison wanted a (highly edited) report the moment he stepped through the front door. His wide grin and swollen lips were fairly indicative to Jared that he'd had a good afternoon, but he'd always been very careful to keep his love life separate from his family life, and Harrison had only met one boyfriend, and had been too young to remember how icky he thought it was the one time he'd seen them kiss. He told Harrison that he and Mr. Misha were 'good friends' now and had had a 'good time' decorating for the party. Jared rolled his eyes and made obscene gestures over Harrison's head.
They set to work making snickerdoodles. Jensen had skimmed through the available recipes on the internet after his texts with Misha. Snickerdoodles had one weird ingredient, and all three of them very carefully tasted the cream of tartar (which was most definitely not a cream) before adding it to the bowl. Jared was a messy stirrer, so Jensen took the job from him and gave it to Harrison, who stirred so enthusiastically, flour puffed up and settled in a fine dust all over the counter. Jensen took control of the stirring after that, and gave the other two the task of mixing sugar and cinnamon together into the perfect combination. They wound up with about three cups of sugar/cinnamon mixture, as Jared kept thinking it too light and added too much cinnamon to counterbalance the sugar, and then needed to add more sugar to make up for way too much cinnamon.
Finally, the first tray was in the oven. Harrison bounced on the balls of his feet, boogey-ing around the kitchen and singing a song he made up on the spot called "Magic Boyfriend Cookies Are Yummy," much to Jared's amusement.
Only, they were burned to a crisp. The second batch they took out much too early. The third batch Jared burned his fingers on and rescued the tray with gritted teeth, only for Harrison to accidentally drop it on the floor and burst into tears. Jensen pulled him onto his lap and settled in the rocking chair in the living room, a dumpster-dive find Jared had resuscitated back when Harrison was a baby and they all lived together.
Jensen woke up an hour later with the most delicious smell tickling his nose. Harrison was doing his fish impression against his neck, drool pooling in Jensen's clavicle, dried tracks of tears staining his cheeks. Jared appeared at his elbow.
"Hey," he whispered, proffering a napkin with a fresh cookie on it. He didn't have to say anything else. Jensen hoisted Harrison onto his shoulder and followed Jared into the kitchen. Four dozen un-burnt snickerdoodles cooled on paper towels on the counter. Jared had made an entirely new batch of the cookies.
"Thanks, man."
***
It was no surprise to Jensen that he dreamed of Misha that night. They'd ordered from the Greek takeout place after the fiasco with the cookies, as Harrison would subsist on feta cheese and olives alone, if he was in charge of the Ackles House menu. Jensen bought Jared an extra-large gyro with all the fixings. They always tended to show their gratitude for each other with food.
Jensen usually dreamed after Greek food. Perhaps it was the cheese, or maybe the spinach, but he started his dream in the middle of getting fucked and it only got better from there. Misha's skin glowed golden (like a Greek god, he thought hazily) and sweat dripped off his nose and curled his hair. They were in a kitchen, and it was hot, open fires burning in huge stoves on either side of the room, Jensen splayed out on a wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, with Misha working himself into him, slowly and thoroughly until Jensen thought he would burst. Misha's fingers gripped his hips and then he was up on the table with Jensen, and Jensen found a hitherto unknown gymnastic ability and accepted him easily, his ankles going up to Misha's shoulders. Misha pounded into him, so easy, and then he bent down and took Jensen's cock into his mouth.
Best. Dream. Ever. He woke up a sticky mess, gasping for breath. He couldn't recall the last time he'd come from a dream. He'd probably been twelve.
He helped Harrison into his gray squirrel costume the next morning, adjusting the flight goggles and little brown leather helmet.
"Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat." Jared let himself in without knocking. His antlers added another six inches to his already massive height. Harrison squealed at the sight of him.
"Bullwinkle!" he shouted, holding his arms out. Jared picked him up and threw him into the air, catching him easily.
"Try not to drop the squirrel. The helmet's just for show." Jensen watched them with a slightly doofy smile on his face before Jared eyed his pajamas (the second ones he'd worn last night) and asked if he was going as Sir-Sleeps-A-Lot.
Jensen shook himself. "Don't break anything. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
He hurried to his room and shut the door. He was not wearing tights, at least there was that. It was a rather tight outfit, though. He took a deep breath and began to change into Captain America. Ten minutes later, he wanted to castrate whoever invented the unitard, but he was dressed and impressive-looking. He hefted his Captain America shield and surveyed himself in the mirror. He should probably wear his skullcap thing to complete the look, but he had limited visibility in that thing. And he hated it besides.
"Okay, you guys," he said, walking into the living room. Jared paused, Harrison dangling upside-down from his hands. Jensen barked a laugh. "Why am I not surprised to find you two like this?"
"Wow, Dad, you look beautiful!" Harrison exclaimed.
"He means tough," Jared explained at Jensen's startled expression, carefully setting Harrison down on his bum. "I mean, if I weren't immune to your charms, I'd want to take you out back and -"
"Great, I think we're ready," Jensen interrupted, whacking Jared upside the head, knocking his antlers askew. "Come, Rocky. Bullwinkle can tag along behind."
Jared was still chortling under his breath as they gathered the cookies and left the house. Harrison skipped along in front, giddy with excitement for what was clearly going to be the best day of school ever.
"You nervous?" Jared asked softly.
"What? No," Jensen scoffed.
"Uh huh. You realize you're wearing a costume that makes you look like sex on a stick. To a children's party."
Jensen glared at him. "The theme is 'Comic Book Superheroes,' Einstein. All of the chaperones will look like this."
Jared snorted. "Jen, none of the chaperones will look like that. You're fucking hot, just as hot as me."
Jensen looked him up and down. He didn't know anyone as secure in their sexuality as Jared, all 6-foot, 5-inch of him covered in a ridiculous moose costume.
"I think we can safely assume that no one will look quite like you, either," he said finally.
"Damn straight," Jared muttered. "I was born to be Bullwinkle."
Alona and Veronica met them in the parking lot. Jensen had to admit that Alona could pull off the spandex look nicely, too. Veronica gave them a gapped-tooth smile from the depths of her panda costume.
"Lift me up!" she demanded of Jared. No sooner had he bent to oblige her than Harrison decided that he simply must be picked up, too, and clearly Jared had to do it, since he was Bullwinkle.
"Good idea, putting Jared to work," Alona said to Jensen, nodding in approval as the moose carried the panda under one arm and the squirrel under the other into the school. "Did you have a good time decorating yesterday?" she asked with a sly smile.
"I owe you," he admitted. "What could Captain America do for Sue Storm?"
"Get laid," she laughed. "You're funny when you're falling all over Mr. Misha."
Jensen regretted leaving his face-piece off when his cheeks flamed.
The classroom was utter chaos when they made it inside, so much so that Jensen couldn't see the trench coat Misha was supposed to be wearing through the sea of kids, parents and superhero chaperones. Harrison and Veronica immediately dragged Jared over to their masks, which Jensen had hung next to each other. He kept one ear on their prattle as he scanned the crowd. Alona plucked the cookies from his hands and gave him a little nudge towards the cubby holes. Sure enough, Misha-as-Constantine rose from a crouch and his eyes met Jensen's. Jensen felt a little flush of pride at the way the other man's eyes widened when he took in Jensen's costume.
"Jensen!" he exclaimed, navigating around several desks, a Power Ranger, a Transformer and Tinker Bell to get to his side. "I have no idea who that superhero is, but I am suddenly filled with the burning desire to learn all I can about him."
"I'm Captain America," Jensen said, laughing. "There's this face thing I should be wearing, but I can't see well out of it, so I left it off."
"I wouldn't want your face covered, either," Misha murmured. He gave himself a small shake. "And do I look like your Constantine?" he asked, holding his arms out and spinning.
"Yeah. You look completely bada - tough," he corrected himself.
Misha's eyes sparkled at him. "Good. We should get this show on the road, shouldn't we?" He didn't wait for an answer, but clapped his hands together loudly. "Fairies and princesses, heroes and heroines, villains and minions - everyone form up, we're heading to the gym for the costume parade. Parents, please take your seats in the gymnasium. Chaperones, inject a little order into this kid soup."
Thus followed four hours of barely controlled chaos. The entire kindergarten paraded past their parents (Jensen dealt with three skinned knees, two accidental shovings, two deliberate shovings, one torn costume and one wig theft), then attended a skit put on by the third-graders on Dia de los Muertos (Jensen learned that glow-in-the-dark dancing skeletons were one of the top four scary objects to five-year-olds), and finally divided back into their separate classrooms for Halloween brunch (Jensen discovered that orange and green scrambled eggs on top of a variety of Twix, Twizzlers and Almond Joys made an unholy alliance when they came back up a five-year-old's throat).
Finally the bell for the half-day rang, and Jensen let out a sigh of relief. Parents and kids and candy began to file out of the room, leaving Misha and his fellow comic book superheroes to clean up the mess. Jensen gave Harrison a big hug and thanked him for being such a good Rocky all day, and promised him a special treat for that evening. Bullwinkle carried a triumphant Rocky out on his shoulders. Alona finished packing up the leftover food and left soon after with Veronica. That just left Jensen, Misha and the other three superhero chaperones. Iron Man flat-out refused to touch the vomit. Jensen rolled his eyes and set to work. Vomit came part and parcel with being a parent. Iron Man needed to develop an iron stomach.
Eventually Jean Grey took down the last of the lights, said her goodbyes and Jensen and Misha were left alone. Misha heaved a great sigh.
"Tell me the truth," he said, pointing his finger, "best party ever, or what?"
"Well, Jared always says it's not a party until someone's horked on the carpet, so, yeah, I'd have to call this a resounding success."
Misha made a face. "Thanks for dealing with that. I think there's some industrial-strength hand soap in the supply closet. Let me see here…"
"Whoa," Jensen breathed, following him into the large walk-in closet and looking around at the neatly labeled and color-coded shelves. "This thing is huge. And so organized."
Misha paused in the back corner. "Oh my God. You're turned on by this, aren't you?"
Jensen shot him a sheepish grin. He couldn't help it. There was just something sexy about the scissors and glue next to each other, and up high, out of the reach of little, grabby hands. Bottom rows? Tubs of blocks and play-doh. Cleaning supplies? In the locked cabinet Misha was fumbling to open. It was a thing of beauty.
"Did you arrange this?" Jensen asked casually, waving his hand at the shelves.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but not a chance." Misha grinned up at him and gave a final tug to the padlock, and the cleaning cabinet swung open. "This is the supply cabinet for all of kindergarten. Principal Kripke showed it to me himself. I mess it up on pain of death." He laughed softly at Jensen's fallen expression. "Don't worry, I'm not a total slob! My house is highly organized chaos."
"Highly organized?" Jensen asked, cocking a brow. He reached around Misha for the soap, by necessity moving a couple of steps closer. His heart was pounding and he knew his shaky breath was brushing Misha's lips.
"Mmm. You should come there and see." His smile was fucking blinding, totally letting Jensen in on the joke of the super cheesy come-on. "Ask me to find anything there, and I can." Misha's hand trailed lightly up the Captain America suit before yanking Jensen's neck close for an aggressive kiss. His fingers tangled in the short hairs at the nape of Jensen's neck and then they were off and running. There was none of the delicate making out of the day before. Jensen barely got the closet door closed before Misha was slamming him up against it and shoving his knee between Jensen's legs. Jensen's eyes stuttered closed in pleasure as he thrust his tongue repeatedly into Misha's mouth, sucking on the other man's tongue with a distinct lack of finesse. Misha didn't seem to mind, judging from his throaty groans and the way he ground his hips against Jensen's cock through the uniform.
Both of them seemed to realize at the same time that it was going to be a bear getting out of the Captain America suit. Misha swore brazenly as his fingers fumbled for the zipper at the back of Jensen's neck, and Jensen had to laugh, his mind whirling. They were going to do this, right there in the supply closet, and Jensen would see Misha again every weekday for the next couple of months at least. It was too late to stop and assess the situation, too late to ask what Misha wanted. The thought chilled him until Misha got a good grip on the zipper and tugged it down, then Misha's mouth was on his neck, trailing down his chest, delicately taking a nipple inside and sucking, and Jensen stopped worrying. He fumbled with Misha's belt buckle and zipper, reaching inside Misha's pants and pulling out his cock. He gave it a small squeeze, and Misha gasped, his teeth grazing Jensen's nipple. The Captain America uniform was pushed unceremoniously down to mid-thigh, and then Misha's hand was on Jensen's cock while he mouthed at Jensen's other nipple. Jensen's head banged against the door, a rhythm of WANT! and MORE! and NOW! Jensen's lips brushed over any skin he could reach, tasting clean sweat and cotton, his nostrils filled with the smell of Misha's spicy cologne. He swiped his thumb over the head of Misha's cock and groaned a loud "Mishaaaaaaa!" Misha came with a moan over Jensen's hand, and gripped Jensen tight around the neck to stay upright while Jensen fucked into his other hand, banging his head against the door one last time and coming hard when Misha swiped his tongue up Jensen's neck.
They caught their breaths, panting, until Misha gave a low chuckle. "Good thing we have all these cleaning supplies."
Jensen huffed a laugh and slid down the door, pulling Misha with him. They kissed lazily, fingers slowly mapping the planes of each other's bodies. Jensen couldn't tell where they were going to go from there, but for once, he thought he'd let the chips fall where they may.
***
They went on three dates the next week, a lesson in coloring outside the lines for Jensen. He was not a fast mover, though when pressed, he could say that the most important relationship in his life (outside of family) had been an immediate connection. But who could resist Jared? Misha was the same way, fitting into the nooks and crannies Jensen hadn't even realized were so empty.
They went to a movie and made out in the back row like teenagers. Jensen couldn't remember the last time he had gone to see a movie and not formulated a detailed review for it before he even left the theater. He didn't even remember the name of this movie, just the taste of Misha's neck beneath his lips and the choked-off sound of Misha's gasps when he brought him off with his hand.
Misha joined them for dinner at their house after Misha let slip that some of the other parents were inviting him for dinner, in a kind of 'welcome to the school, long-term sub' way. Jensen stuck with burgers and a decadent apple pie from his favorite bakery, remembering the snickerdoodle disaster. Harrison was giddy with excitement, taking Misha by the hand and dragging him through the house, pointing out all his toys. Jensen took him by the hand after Harrison had gone to bed and led him into his bedroom. They fucked as quietly as possible, sweat sticking Jensen's back to Misha's chest, Jensen craning his neck to lick at Misha's chin or jaw or earlobe, whatever he could reach, each time Misha's cock brushed his prostate and he wanted to shout, each time Misha's hand gripped his cock and gave it a tug.
Jensen took Misha to a photography exhibit and held his hand. Their fingers laced together nicely and Jensen couldn't help the wide smile that stretched across his face. Misha made him grin for absolutely no reason. It was a new sensation. He hadn't even made a pro / con list about taking Misha to one of his favorite places. He'd just done it. There was supposed to be someone like that for everyone, but Jensen had always thought it a rom-com cliché before now. But as they ducked into the janitor's closet and Misha sank to his knees with a wicked grin, Jensen had to consider that maybe it could happen to him, too.
They continued seeing each other frequently as the November days got shorter and shorter and the nights got longer and longer. Misha never stayed the entire night, in an unspoken agreement to keep the extent of their relationship from Harrison for the time being. But he would always stay for a little while, lounging in the sweaty sheets and telling Jensen stories from his past.
Misha was weird, there was no doubt about that. Jensen told him so, and he just laughed.
"I prefer the label 'Renaissance Man,' if you insist on labeling me at all," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, and pushed Jensen onto his back to start Round Two for the night.
Misha had run the Jungle Cruise ride at Disney World one summer in college; he'd apprenticed himself to a master carpenter and learned how to make furniture; he'd rescued two boxes of mice from a cosmetics company; he'd covered himself in pink paint and streaked during the live telecast of a beauty pageant whose judge had made widely-publicized disparaging remarks about gays; he'd run marathons in Greece, Hawaii, Spain and Delaware; he'd planted an outhouse on the moon. ("That one's a bit of an exaggeration," he confessed to Jensen.) Misha talked about politics, books he'd read, his love of poetry, art he'd seen that had moved him, men and women he'd dated (Jensen fought back a surge of jealousy whenever these past loves were mentioned, and Misha soon stopped bringing them up), places he'd traveled to that were filled with natural wonders (and places that were just butt-ugly). He told Jensen about his second job, just a hobby, really - making candles. He enjoyed playing with the colors and scents, and brought Jensen little nubs of experiments.
Jensen took in all the stories, lapping up each word, but whenever Misha asked a question about his life, he answered with an anecdote about Harrison or Jared. He ignored the small spark of disappointment that would flare in Misha's eyes whenever he deflected a question, and did his best to erase it with sex. He did a lot of erasing.
The Friday before Thanksgiving, Jensen picked Harrison up as usual from school and exchanged lingering glances with Misha. They had plans for Saturday night, the first time Misha would stay the whole night, as Harrison had been invited to spend the night at Veronica's. Both children were giddy with excitement over plans that included pitching a tent in Alona's living room and making s'mores in the microwave. And apparently an epic game of 'zoo,' as Jensen discovered later that afternoon when Harrison freaked out about leaving his super-special lion mask in his cubby at school.
Jared rolled his eyes when Jensen readily volunteered to go back to the school and get it, but took Harrison by the hand and led him into the studio regardless. Jensen left them both hunched over pieces of drawing paper.
The older students had been let out of classes about fifteen minutes before Jensen returned to the school and the hallways were strangely silent. His pulse quickened in anticipation of seeing Misha again, of having him to himself. The grin was already spreading across his face when he pushed open the door of Misha's classroom.
His heart took a nosedive to his feet and his stomach threatened to come up. Misha was not alone. A willowy blonde woman held him in a tight clench. Jensen's lips moved, but no sound came out. He backed slowly out of the room and shut the door.
Jensen walked, unseeing, down the hallway. He most certainly did not run. And he was most certainly not retreating with his tail between his legs. His mind whirled as he tried to make sense of what he'd seen; to label it and dissect it and come up with a plan of action. Though it was true that he and Misha had made no spoken promises of exclusivity, Jensen hadn't thought they were necessary. They had a connection! And while that didn't make it a 'be free for sex and eternal devotion when I swing by your place later' type of connection, it was in Jensen's mind. Jealousy tried to choke him, and he beat it viciously down.
He stopped at the end of the corridor. The heavy double doors stood there, silent and cold and definitely mocking him.
The squeak of a sole against the waxed linoleum alerted him to a presence behind him. His shoulders stiffened. He'd be damned if he was going to turn and smile and act like nothing was wrong. He reached for the bar across the doors.
"Jensen!"
His hand lingered on the bar as he waffled between giving Misha the cold shoulder or ripping him a new one. Misha took the decision from him, and he resented that, too; resented the touch of Misha's hand on his arm, the insistent way Misha tugged him into an empty classroom.
"What do you want, Misha? You looked pretty busy," he snarled. Okay, so he wasn't going to be particularly mature about this. Good to know.
Misha sighed and ran a hand through his hair - hair which was already on-end because the blonde had been gripping it. Jensen clenched his fists at his sides to keep himself from putting them through a desk.
"That wasn't what it looked like," Misha started, and Jensen rolled his eyes.
"Was she kissing you?" he barked.
"Yes, but -"
"Well, that's what it looked like! So in what way could it not be that, if that's what was happening?!" His voice was rising. He was losing his cool, which he really, really hated and rarely ever did.
"She's an ex-girlfriend, and she was just dropping stuff off for me! That was a goodbye kiss!" Misha snapped back.
"An ex?" Jensen asked, eyes narrowing. "She had her arms around you, man."
"Oh my God!" Misha threw his arms up in the air. "Either you trust me or you don't. What's it going to be, Jensen?"
Jensen hesitated. Misha looked away, shaking his head.
"I guess I should expect that of you," he said bitterly. "You don't ever put yourself out there, do you, Jen? You want me to be your boyfriend, but you don't want to be mine."
"Misha -"
"Please just leave." There was a finality to his statement that froze Jensen to his core, but he was still too angry to let Misha see that.
"I came here to get something out of Harrison's cubby." He kept his voice even through sheer force of will.
"Of course you did." Misha barked a mirthless laugh. "Get it and go."
***
Continue to Part Two here.
Author: blue_fjords
Characters/Pairing: Jensen/Misha, Jared, Alona, brief appearances by other real people, OC
Rating: R
Word count: 18,600 words
Disclaimer: These are real people, whom I obviously don't know. It's also an AU, so totally made-up. No disrespect is intended.
Summary: Jensen's days are spent doting on his son and working on his graphic novel series with his best friend, Jared. Life's cool, but something could make it a whole lot better. Or make that someone.
Author notes: I went w/ the Jensen/Misha AU, where Jensen is a single dad and Misha is a teacher at his son's school. An awful lot of Jared crept in. And a little bit of Kentucky. Many, many thanks to paragraphs for betaing and cheerleading! Originally posted for cloudyjenn in the deancas_xmas 2010 Fic Exchange.
"Whaddya think, Squirt? Should the monster at the end of the book have a blue tongue, or a green one?"
Jensen looked over from the storyboard, a slight smile quirking his lips. His son was bouncing on the tips of his toes, his little hands clenched in the fabric of Jared's jeans as he wrestled with this most awesome of responsibilities. Jared tapped his foot against the rung of his stool in the Jeopardy theme song, humming along off-key, his hand poised over the paper attached to his drawing board.
"Blue!" It came out on the exhale, and Harrison heaved a great big sigh, as if he'd just achieved peace in the Middle East with that one decision. Jared nodded his approval, and began inking in his drawing with a lurid shade of blue.
"Stellar job, kiddo," Jensen congratulated him. "Now I think it's about time we left for school. I want to meet your new teacher before class begins."
Harrison joined him cheerfully enough, after a hair ruffle from Jared, of course, and Jensen thanked his lucky stars that Harrison was taking to school, despite the unfortunate incident with Ms. Katie. Three weeks into kindergarten, and Harrison's teacher had slipped on, no joke, a banana peel and was now in the hospital with a broken tailbone and several other broken bones. Jensen was a little hazy on the details, as Jared had picked Harrison up from school that day and he was laughing too hard to form coherent sentences.
"Looking forward to meeting Ms. Misha, Harrison?" Jensen asked as he helped his son into his windbreaker and took his hand.
"Uh-huh. I didn't like Mr. Tom, he smelled funny, and Mr. Michael didn't use special voices during story time…"
Jensen found himself nodding his head to his son's litany of the faults of Ms. Katie's substitutes as they walked down the sidewalk, and had to catch himself. "Look, buddy, no one's going to be the same as Ms. Katie, but it's your job to give the new sub a chance. Be respectful. Nice," he clarified when Harrison's brow crinkled at the big word. "This one's going to be with you until January."
"Do I have to be nice even if they're like Mr. Chad and bring us cookies that taste like ass?"
"Harrison! We don't use that word," Jensen said firmly. Dammit, Jared, you asshole.
"Even if they bring us Fig Newtons that taste like ass?"
Jensen growled, and Harrison dissolved into giggles. He was still laughing at his own daring genius when they made it to the crosswalk in front of the school, just two short blocks from the bungalow where Jensen and Harrison lived, and Jensen and Jared created their graphic novels. It was like "Two and a Half Men" without the drug-addicted 80's playboy. (Actually, that was Jared's term for it. Jensen had never seen "Two and a Half Men" and called the house "the house." He saved his brilliant turns-of-phrase for their graphic novels and the four English Lit grad students who sent them densely worded fan letters on the mythical themes demonstrated by the fart-joke-cracking monsters contained therein.)
Jensen helped his son hang up his jacket in his cubby hole ("No, I can do it, Dad!"), hung the jacket when it fell a third time, knocked it off again when Harrison's lower lip trembled so the boy could hang it himself, and looked around for the new teacher. They were one of the first ones there, just a couple other parents and a handful of five-year-olds - no one that could pass as Ms. Misha. Though Alona was smiling up at a strange man with his back to Jensen.
Way to go, Alona! He flashed her a wink and a thumb's up, and got a pair of narrowed eyes in return. She may have still been harboring a slight resentment towards him for setting her up on a date with Jared. 'Abysmal Failure' was the kindest thing that could be said for that experience. Jensen frowned right back. She obviously wasn't having trouble finding someone of true boyfriend material if she'd dragged a date with her to her daughter's school.
She smiled up at the guy again, they must still have been in the honeymoon phase, and nodded in Jensen's direction. Crap, he'd have to meet Alona's Man. Jensen preferred keeping his social interactions with strangers to a bare minimum, and he'd already allotted his daily time for small talk to Harrison's new teacher. Now he'd have to fake it with this guy, too.
"Jensen," she called out, squashing any hope he could disappear into the hall and wait for the sub there, "come here, I want to introduce you to the new teacher."
A loud shriek sounded from the storytime corner, and all three adults instinctively turned and took a step in that direction. False alarm as the shriek turned into giggles, which were quickly lowered to Indoor Voice level as Alona caught her daughter's eye.
"You mean our kids haven't scared her off?" Jensen mumbled, turning back to Alona and her boyfriend.
"It would take a bit more than a Macauley Culkin impersonation to get me running," the boyfriend said, brow furrowed in concentration. "I think it would have to be something more along the lines of an alien invasion." He gave a sudden wide grin and held out his hand. "Misha Collins. Your kids will be calling me Mr. Misha, not Ms. Misha, by the way. Less confusing for them."
"Uh," Jensen stammered, in the wittiest rejoinder known to man. At least he managed to shake hands well. Mr. Misha had nice hands, soft skin over wiry muscles and a strong grip.
"Don't worry, lots of people get thrown by the name," Misha confided. "I thought it'd get better when I started using the nickname, but…" He shrugged his shoulders, and Jensen realized rather belatedly that he was still holding the man's hand. Okay, mistook him for a woman and fouled up the handshake. Can't get any worse. He dropped Misha's hand and surreptitiously wiped his nervous sweat off on his jeans. Misha noticed.
"It's not catching," he said, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. "Unless you're going to legally change your name to Elizabeth."
"Your name is Elizabeth?" Alona asked, eyes wide with incredulity and a smirk playing across her lips. "I don't believe you for a second."
Misha held up his hands in mock surrender. "Take it up with my parents. I'm just lucky not to have been named LunarFlower."
Alona touched Misha on the bicep when she laughed, her head thrown back and the very picture of golden beauty. Jensen stifled a sigh. Flirting was really not a fun spectator sport. His eyes wandered to Harrison and Alona's girl, Veronica, wholly engrossed in a game of pretend. Probably 'zoo,' Harrison'd been obsessed with practicing lion roars and pouncing on 'prey' lately.
"He has brilliant technique," Misha remarked. Jensen looked up, pleased at the compliment for Harrison who was, of course, the most brilliant child to ever grace the Earth, and also that the sub knew when to stop flirting and pay attention to the kids. "Would you introduce us?" he continued, touching Jensen lightly on the arm.
"Sure." Jensen brightened considerably. Now things were working themselves out more like he'd expected. Except that Misha's hand…lingered…a bit on his arm. He gave a squeeze and drew it away a moment later. It probably meant nothing. He did have nice hands, though. "Harrison, come here and say hello to Mr. Misha."
Harrison ran right over and threw his arms around Misha's knees. "My dad thought you were a girl teacher."
Betrayed by my own flesh and blood! "He doesn't know what he's saying; they just teach them to mimic syllables in the ape house at the zoo."
Thank God Misha laughed at that. He crouched down until he was eye level with Harrison. "I was watching you earlier. You have quite an imagination."
"That's my biggest word! I know what it is." Harrison gestured Misha closer, and Jensen exchanged a look with Alona before leaning in, too. "People without imaginations are boring sadsacks," he whispered loudly in the vicinity of Misha's ear. Jensen cringed.
"Did your dad tell you that?" Misha asked with a grin.
"Hell, no!" Jensen exclaimed. Misha raised a brow at him, and Harrison gave him a particularly mulish expression. "Well, the boring bit, that was probably me," he amended. "The rest of it sounds like Jared."
Misha directed his smile at Jensen now, and Jensen's heart did a strange little backflip. "Who's Jared?"
"My partner." Misha's smile didn't slip, but Jensen hurried to clarify regardless. "My business partner, I mean, not my life partner; it's not like that. Jared's not goy. Um, gay."
Oh my God, shut up, you moron!
Alona was giving him a much too knowing look, and Misha was still smiling. Jensen just wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. This was why he always took business meetings with Jared, and the few times he'd gone to various comic book and graphic novel conventions, he'd sat frozen on the stage with Jared and deferred as many questions as possible to the other man. He just clammed up around strangers, and when he tried to fix it, he got disastrous results.
Harrison pulled Misha's ear close again. "My dad's gay," he stated matter-of-factly. "That means that he wants a boyfriend."
Oh dear God.
Alona rescued him, because she was a saint and this meeting was even worse than whatever had happened on that date with Jared, clearly.
"The other kids are starting to arrive," (they weren't) "and Jensen and I really have to get to work." (Jensen worked for himself, and he knew for a fact that Alona's show was on hiatus for another couple of weeks.) "You guys have a great day, okay? Be good."
Veronica ran over and hugged her mother, and Harrison demanded three high-fives before abandoning his father once more in favor of the storytime corner. Misha rose from his crouch and shook first Alona's hand, then Jensen's. He stood close, and Jensen got a whiff of his cologne, a slightly spicy scent. And wow, his eyes were this blue that went beyond blue. They were…very…blue. Sweet Jesus, I've forgotten how to string words together.
Jensen gave him a weak smile and dropped his hand like a hot potato. "I'll see you for lunch, Harrison," he called over his shoulder, already beating a hasty retreat.
Alona caught up to him outside the classroom. Jensen entertained the vain hope that she wouldn't say anything. It lasted for all of ten seconds.
"It wasn't that bad, sweetie," she said with a sympathetic smile.
"Oh, really? You can think of a way that could've gone worse? Let's see, I insulted him, tripped over my tongue, managed to mispronounce the word gay, which takes true skill, I might add, and to top it off, my son basically propositioned him on my behalf. So. Do tell me how that could have gone worse."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
"Thanks, you're a big help," Jensen muttered, holding the front door of the school open for her. He might have shown a total lack of social skills that morning, but he was not a complete Neanderthal.
"Look at it this way, Jen," she said, stopping at her car. "I know when a man is in to me. And that man? Was perfectly charming and gorgeous, and so not in to me. Damn, he grinned like a loon whenever he laid eyes on you."
Jensen stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you just humoring me?"
Alona rolled her eyes. "Do you think I would let a nice guy who's good with kids go if I thought I had a chance with him?"
"Point taken." His spirits lifted slightly, from the Pit of Despair to the Bog of Eternal Stench. It was an improvement.
"Bring Jared with you next time to contain your verbal diarrhea." She laughed at the face he made. "Now shoo, I have to get to work."
"I thought you were on hiatus?"
"I am. But the voice of Princess Flutterby needs a new, gas-efficient car. I'm singing the jingle for a toilet bowl cleaner commercial."
"Glamorous."
"Don't I know it." She got into her SUV which, Jensen agreed, was a total waste. "And don't worry about Mr. Misha!"
He tried not to. Luckily Jared was engrossed in finishing a couple of panels when he got back and greeted him with a grunt. Jensen didn't think he could hide all evidence of his morning from his face, and was thankful for the level of detail Jared was lavishing on their latest monster.
The Ninth Circle was born during Jensen's senior year at Austin when he met Jared, a freshman struggling with an English Lit course. Jared had showed up at the Writing Center for help with a paper and walked out with a best friend. And a draft of "The Short Story Form: Not Just Good Because It's Short" covered in red ink. Both boys had an affinity for video games, comic books, and genre TV, and both had needed to hide their geek status from various friends growing up. Jared was majoring in Undecided and minoring in Art; Jensen had almost completed his BA in Business, with a minor in English Lit.
The very first issue of The Ninth Circle was written on the back of two pizza boxes after a marathon session of Legend of Zelda. A mutual friend had photographed the boxes and run them in the school paper. It was the first time either boy had realized that they could be popular doing something they actually genuinely liked, and it was infectious. After graduation, Jensen got a boring desk job at a company he exorcised from his memory the minute Jared graduated, and they poured the money Jensen had made into launching The Ninth Circle. And after a couple of lean years, they caught the eye of an older graphic novelist and their names began to crop up in certain audiences.
They were lucky, Jensen freely admitted. It helped that Jared was such a people person, and that Jensen had a head for business. Lots of people wrote and illustrated graphic novels that never saw the light of day. But you could find The Ninth Circle in several different chain bookstores across the country, plus quite a few mom-and-pop places and specialty shops.
And being a successful graphic novelist gave one a certain allure. Well, to some people. It was how Jensen met Harrison's mother and had his one and only sexual encounter with a woman. ("What about those cheerleaders that time…?" Jared asked. "That wasn't, you know. Penetrative," Jensen replied. "Ew, dude! I'm eating here!") Jensen kept the personal info about her in a strongbox at the bank, but she hadn't looked back since the day she had plopped the baby in his arms and left with: "It's a boy, try not to raise an asshole." (They were still rather poor then, and sharing an apartment. Jared had wanted Jensen to sell his sperm because it was clearly magical, baby-on-the-first-try sperm. Jensen had told him to empty the Diaper Genie.)
But after Harrison was born, Jensen's love life took a nosedive. His sex life was still pretty healthy, but lately even that was drying up. He just didn't want a quick blow job and an insincere "see you later." Harrison was right - he wanted a boyfriend.
"DUDE!" The eraser hit him squarely between the eyes. Jensen blinked and reached for something with which to retaliate. "Don't even think about it! I've been yelling for you for three minutes! What the hell's with you?"
Jared looked more amused than put out.
"Nothing!" Jensen stared intently at his computer screen and the scene he was supposed to be working on.
"Uh huh. You are the worst liar I have ever met."
Jensen hitched his shoulders back.
"Ah-ha! That! That's your tell!" Jared cried, pointing in triumph. "What the fuck's wrong with you? Let me see, it didn't happen yesterday, it didn't happen this morning, the only time I wasn't with you was…oh my God. Harrison's new teacher. IS IT HIS MOTHER?"
Jensen almost fell off his chair. "WHAT? Are you insane? His mother's not the teacher, doofus, he's not even a woman."
"You almost gave me a heart attack, man." Jared clutched at his chest and took a dramatic breath of air. "Wait a second," he continued, his hands falling to his sides. "Dude. The new teacher's a dude?"
Jensen held his shoulders still through a supreme act of willpower. "Correct."
"'Correct'? 'Correct'? Oh, Jen, you've already fallen for the teacher, haven't you?"
"How the fuck do you do that?" Jensen burst out.
Jared waved his question away. "Dude, I know you better than you know yourself. So. Tell me about this teacher. Is his name really Misha, or was that a typo?"
"It's his name. And he's…" Jensen sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter what he's like. I acted like a complete idiot in front of him this morning."
"I'm sure you weren't -"
"Trust me, I was. We'll be lucky if Harrison doesn't get flunked on principle."
Jared rolled his eyes. "No, trust me. One dose of Padalecki Damage Control, and Mr. Misha will be begging for your number."
"He already has all the parents' numbers."
"One dose of Padalecki Damage Control, and Mr. Misha will be begging for your c -"
Jensen hit him right between the eyes with a stress ball. The ensuing fight led them from the studio into the living room, winding up in the kitchen with Jared's head in the sink and the soggy remains of Harrison's Fruit Loops in his hair.
"Uncle! Uncle!" he sputtered, a hand flailing behind him for Jensen and dinging the countertop instead. "Fuck, that hurt!"
"Serves you right, asswipe!" Jensen let him go and leaned back against the opposite counter, trying to catch his breath. Wrestling with Jared was always quite the workout.
Jared struggled to his feet and gave a shake of his hair. Milk droplets flew through the air, and a red Fruit Loop stuck itself to Jensen's cheek before falling to the floor with a soft plop.
"Looks like you have some cleaning to do, Papa Bear. I can't believe you mussed my hair. I'm almost mad enough to badmouth you to your massive crush, but because I'm such a great guy…"
"I'd prefer it if you didn't say anything at all," Jensen muttered. Dammit, there was milk all over the floor. He'd have to use the Wet Swiffer.
"Nonsense! I'm just going to go pretty myself up, then go pick up the cub and chat up this dude for you."
"Jared…" Jensen protested. Weakly. He really couldn't make it worse.
"Enough. As Disney's Robin Hood did say, 'Faint heart never won fair lady.' Or dude." He gave a broad wink and a bow, and marched from the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder, "I just need to fix my hair first!"
***
Jensen puttered around the house, cleaning, waiting for Jared and Harrison to get back. Jared was an utter slob, one of the reasons he didn't just live with Jensen and Harrison any more, since he was over all the time anyway. Cleaning was usually a soothing activity for Jensen, putting everything into its place and sweeping up the messes. Luckily for him, Harrison had inherited the trait, although his idea of 'everything in its place' included his toys as prominent features of each room in the house.
Cleaning only took so long, and when Jared had been gone half an hour, Jensen began to imagine the worst. Jared was telling Misha about the misunderstanding with the kittens from their very first comic book convention presentation. Or he was filling Misha in on Jensen's checkered past love life. Or Jared and Harrison were acting out the morning Jensen had discovered his first gray hair. He got antsier and antsier, and then a key turned in the lock.
Jared burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "Dude! Quit your worrying!"
"Daddy! Daddy!" Harrison exclaimed, running towards him with arms outstretched. "Mr. Misha is the coolest! We're going to make masks for Halloween! And Mr. Misha taught us to play a whole song on the kazoo! And Mr. Misha has been to Australia! They talk funny there! Mr. Misha is the coolest!"
"You said that already," Jensen said, giving his son a big hug. "I guess he must be doubly cool, huh?"
"Yup-yup-yup! Can I have grilled cheese for lunch?"
"May you have…"
"May I have grilled cheese for lunch?"
"Sure, squirt. Go get the stuff out, I just need to talk to Jared for a second."
Harrison went running off for the kitchen. Jensen fixed Jared with a firm look. Jared laughed.
"We talked about The Ninth Circle, dude. I swear that's all. Cross my heart. He was very impressed, by the way."
Jensen raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Hey, I'm as innocent as can be, Ms. Malloy." Jared shot him a grin. "But he's totally going to call you, very soon."
"Is that so?"
"Yup-yup-yup! Now come on, I'm starving. And I love grilled cheese."
***
Jensen didn't have long to wait, as it turned out. The very next evening his phone rang as he was loading the dishwasher after dinner. He didn't recognize the number and almost didn't answer it, but it was his own area code and the habit had been ingrained in him since he was a kid, so he reached for it and tapped the screen.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Jensen!" a cheerful voice greeted him. He didn't recognize it, but it sure sounded like the voice knew him.
"Um, yeah," he said, hoping he wouldn't have to admit that he hadn't a clue who he was talking to.
"Your name is on my list for the Halloween Party!"
Oh, shit. I'm going to kill Jared.
"Look, buddy, that was a one-time thing, and I was drunk, and I only went because my idiot of a best friend broke his foot and he gave me these puppy dog eyes, and what are you going to say to that?"
There was a silence on the other end, during which Jensen started to get the horrible sensation that he was not talking to who he thought he was talking to.
"That story sounds fascinating, truly, but I was calling about the kindergarten Halloween Party for next week. You're on the list Ms. Katie left me as a parent chaperone."
Holy fucking shit. He was never, ever going to be able to have a conversation with this man that he could look back on and…no. He was never, ever going to be able to have a conversation with this man, full stop.
"I'm so sorry," he managed finally. "Of course I'm being a parent chaperone. What…what do you need?"
He should volunteer to make cookies. He'd never made cookies before. Pictures, he could photograph the costume parade. Or was that considered creepy? What was it about Misha that made him act like he'd been raised in a barn and hadn't learned a lick of social skills since? Lick. Great, now he was thinking about Misha's neck, and wouldn't it be great to run his tongue -
"Actually, I wanted your advice. Ms. Katie's note says that the adults all dress to a theme, and this year it was comic book superheroes."
"Oh, yeah." He had a costume. It was a little embarrassing.
"And your partner mentioned that the two of you make graphic novels, so I figured, you'd probably know more about kinds of superheroes -"
"Constantine," he blurted out, interrupting Misha. "You'd make an awesome Constantine." He blushed, thankful that Misha couldn't actually see him.
"Constantine? Who's that? And how's the costume?"
"He's kind of an anti-hero. It's an angels and demons kind of comic book. Really cool imagery. Constantine's a white dude with dark hair, about your height and build, plus the costume's a snap. He wears a tan trench coat." Wow he made it through that whole thing without tripping over his tongue! New world record.
"Hmmm, sounds like a flasher."
"Oh, he wears pants! A plain dark suit and white shirt beneath the trench coat," he added.
"That's good. They don't allow flashers in the kindergarten, you know. I'd have to chase myself off with a pitchfork."
Jensen laughed much harder than the joke called for. Harrison wandered in from the living room, where he'd been watching his single half-hour of allowed cartoons for the day, curious to see what was so funny.
"What's so funny, Daddy?" he asked in his piercing whisper.
"Um, clothes. Is your show done?" he asked, covering the phone with his hand.
"Yup. I want a story before bed!"
"Go choose one and I'll be there in a minute." He uncovered the phone again. "Misha? Sorry about that. His Royal Highness has requested a story."
"We read Skippyjon Jones in class today."
"That's one of Harrison's favorites!"
"I gathered from the way he acted it out," Misha said drily.
"Sorry if that was distracting," he apologized again. "He's very…enthusiastic."
"I think he's brilliant. It's refreshing to be around a child who engages the world around him on such a level."
Oh my God, I want to fuck this man so bad.
He cleared his throat. "Thanks," he said, rather more gruff-sounding than usual.
"No, thank you," Misha said, laughing. "Anyhow, I'll let you go for story time. And someday we're going to have to have our own story time, and you can tell me about that other Halloween Party."
"It's really a boring story." Jensen wondered if his ear-to-ear grin sounded like something over the phone. "Hey, you need any Halloween Party help before next week, give me a call. I'm willing."
And willing to do so much more to you, too.
"Will do. See you soon, Jensen."
"Yeah. Bye, Misha."
He ended the call with a smile. Okay, one minor setback, but then Misha had totally implied that he wanted to spend some one-on-one time with Jensen. It was going to happen.
"DADDDDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYY! STORRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYY!"
***
Misha contacted him several times over the next week. He sent a picture of himself in a trench coat, with the caption "Constantine or Mad Whacker?" Jensen assured him that it worked perfectly. Privately, he thought the other man looked fucking hot, with his messy dark hair and laughing blue eyes. Then Jensen started the exchange of messages for the day, using the party as the excuse, of course. Jared rolled his eyes and told him to go jump Misha's bones, but he also previewed his opening text and declared it innocuous enough ("Though much too bland, come on, dude, you're not selling him carpet, you want to get carpet burns with him! If you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge."):
"DO WE NEED MORE TREATS FOR THE PARTY?"
Jensen had to agree with Jared, but it was too early to go for something more overt. Still, he inwardly winced at his text. You could never tell he made a good living as a writer from that text. But it did get him a response:
"NOTHING W/ PEANUTS! TOO MANY DAMN ALLERGIES."
Well, that took out most of Jensen's favorites. But now he needed to ask another question and prolong the conversation:
"COOKIES? OR BAGGED CANDY?"
The response was almost immediate:
"YOU BAKE?"
And sometimes one had to lie between one's teeth, for love. Or sex:
"I CAN MAKE SNICKERDOODLES."
Technically, he had never made snickerdoodles. But he did believe he was physically capable of making them, hence he could make them. And he was most definitely going to, based on Misha's reply:
"I LOVE THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS."
He'd taken to bringing Harrison to school and also picking him up, instead of Jared, and he was sure Misha's hand lingered in his that day when they shook hands at the end of school.
Jared came with him the day before the party to take Harrison home, leaving Jensen to help with the decorating.
"I have lights!" Misha announced after the kids had all filed out, Harrison (and Jared) with shit-eating grins and double thumbs up.
"Okay. Is, um, anyone else staying to help decorate?" Jensen looked around the empty classroom. Was he going to be blessed with Misha all to himself? It was just like the last three masturbatory fantasies he'd had.
"No, is that okay? Alona was going to help decorate, but when she heard you were going to be here, too, she suddenly wanted to be elsewhere." Misha raised his eyebrow.
"Oh. She can be, uh, flighty." Which was stretching the truth to the snapping point, and he'd have to make it up to her and sufficiently thank her for this opportunity. Maybe with a mansion. Misha was watching him with his intense blue eyes, and Jensen fumbled for something to say. "What did you want to do with this orange and black stuff?"
"Crepe. We're going to make streamers. I think. Though streamers sound a little boring to me, what do you think? Do you color outside the lines, Jensen?"
God, he was so close now. He smelled like chalk and play-doh and the granola and soy milk they'd had for snack time. Jensen couldn't look away from his mouth, the lower lip glistening in the ugly fluorescent lighting; couldn't stop imaging the white soy milk dribbling down his throat, leaving a milky ring around his lips. The moment stretched, until Misha sighed, the breath ghosting out across Jensen's lips. It was pure instinct that caused him to lean forward and capture Misha's lips with his own.
The kiss was gentle at first, neither of them touching except for their mouths, until Misha chuckled.
"What?" Jensen breathed against his lips.
"I was hoping you'd go for this," Misha said. His grin was blinding, it really was, and Jensen just had to kiss him again, in the corners of his lips, nibbling the plump lower lip and sucking it into his mouth, slipping his tongue inside Misha's grin and licking. Finally pulling him closer by the back of his neck and his waist, anything to get him closer and drink in that grin.
It was a miracle the room got decorated at all. Misha decided to eschew the streamers all together, and went for the minimalist approach, using the lights to highlight the masks the kids had been making over the past week. (Harrison's was green and warty, and had a lurid blue tongue.) Jensen took every opportunity he could to touch the other man, brushing his knuckles against his waistband, running his fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline with his thumb. Misha reacted like a cat, soaking up the attention and purring. They had to pause several times to make out with loud, sloppy kisses and hands hovering over buttons and waistbands. They broke apart with a start when the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day for the older students.
Jensen caught his breath as dozens of little feet pounded by the door and down the hall. Misha looked out of breath, too, he noted smugly, and his eyes were even wider than usual.
"I forgot for a moment that we weren't alone," Misha whispered conspiratorially.
Jensen laughed, a full-bodied laugh with his head thrown back and noticed Misha staring at him as his laughter died down.
"What?" he asked. He showed all his teeth when he laughed. Maybe Misha thought that was a turn-off?
"I really want you to laugh more." Misha laid his hand against Jensen's neck. "Please."
"Okay." Jensen grinned. "I can work on that."
Misha leaned forward and kissed him, a quick brush of lips. "I need to head to my other job now. But I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."
"Wait, what? You have another job?"
"Yup." Misha gave him an enigmatic little Mona Lisa smile. Dammit.
"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" he asked.
"All in good time. Good things come to those who wait. Judge not, lest ye be judged. To the baker of the snickerdoodles goes the answer."
Jensen threw his hands up in the air. "Have it your way. I'll see you tomorrow, Misha. With cookies." He turned to leave.
"Jensen! Wait, you forgot something!"
Jensen patted his pockets. "No, I didn't." He turned around to find Misha right on his heels.
"I can't believe you fell for that," he murmured, pressing their lips together for one final kiss. "Now you can go."
Jared and Harrison wanted a (highly edited) report the moment he stepped through the front door. His wide grin and swollen lips were fairly indicative to Jared that he'd had a good afternoon, but he'd always been very careful to keep his love life separate from his family life, and Harrison had only met one boyfriend, and had been too young to remember how icky he thought it was the one time he'd seen them kiss. He told Harrison that he and Mr. Misha were 'good friends' now and had had a 'good time' decorating for the party. Jared rolled his eyes and made obscene gestures over Harrison's head.
They set to work making snickerdoodles. Jensen had skimmed through the available recipes on the internet after his texts with Misha. Snickerdoodles had one weird ingredient, and all three of them very carefully tasted the cream of tartar (which was most definitely not a cream) before adding it to the bowl. Jared was a messy stirrer, so Jensen took the job from him and gave it to Harrison, who stirred so enthusiastically, flour puffed up and settled in a fine dust all over the counter. Jensen took control of the stirring after that, and gave the other two the task of mixing sugar and cinnamon together into the perfect combination. They wound up with about three cups of sugar/cinnamon mixture, as Jared kept thinking it too light and added too much cinnamon to counterbalance the sugar, and then needed to add more sugar to make up for way too much cinnamon.
Finally, the first tray was in the oven. Harrison bounced on the balls of his feet, boogey-ing around the kitchen and singing a song he made up on the spot called "Magic Boyfriend Cookies Are Yummy," much to Jared's amusement.
Only, they were burned to a crisp. The second batch they took out much too early. The third batch Jared burned his fingers on and rescued the tray with gritted teeth, only for Harrison to accidentally drop it on the floor and burst into tears. Jensen pulled him onto his lap and settled in the rocking chair in the living room, a dumpster-dive find Jared had resuscitated back when Harrison was a baby and they all lived together.
Jensen woke up an hour later with the most delicious smell tickling his nose. Harrison was doing his fish impression against his neck, drool pooling in Jensen's clavicle, dried tracks of tears staining his cheeks. Jared appeared at his elbow.
"Hey," he whispered, proffering a napkin with a fresh cookie on it. He didn't have to say anything else. Jensen hoisted Harrison onto his shoulder and followed Jared into the kitchen. Four dozen un-burnt snickerdoodles cooled on paper towels on the counter. Jared had made an entirely new batch of the cookies.
"Thanks, man."
***
It was no surprise to Jensen that he dreamed of Misha that night. They'd ordered from the Greek takeout place after the fiasco with the cookies, as Harrison would subsist on feta cheese and olives alone, if he was in charge of the Ackles House menu. Jensen bought Jared an extra-large gyro with all the fixings. They always tended to show their gratitude for each other with food.
Jensen usually dreamed after Greek food. Perhaps it was the cheese, or maybe the spinach, but he started his dream in the middle of getting fucked and it only got better from there. Misha's skin glowed golden (like a Greek god, he thought hazily) and sweat dripped off his nose and curled his hair. They were in a kitchen, and it was hot, open fires burning in huge stoves on either side of the room, Jensen splayed out on a wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, with Misha working himself into him, slowly and thoroughly until Jensen thought he would burst. Misha's fingers gripped his hips and then he was up on the table with Jensen, and Jensen found a hitherto unknown gymnastic ability and accepted him easily, his ankles going up to Misha's shoulders. Misha pounded into him, so easy, and then he bent down and took Jensen's cock into his mouth.
Best. Dream. Ever. He woke up a sticky mess, gasping for breath. He couldn't recall the last time he'd come from a dream. He'd probably been twelve.
He helped Harrison into his gray squirrel costume the next morning, adjusting the flight goggles and little brown leather helmet.
"Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat." Jared let himself in without knocking. His antlers added another six inches to his already massive height. Harrison squealed at the sight of him.
"Bullwinkle!" he shouted, holding his arms out. Jared picked him up and threw him into the air, catching him easily.
"Try not to drop the squirrel. The helmet's just for show." Jensen watched them with a slightly doofy smile on his face before Jared eyed his pajamas (the second ones he'd worn last night) and asked if he was going as Sir-Sleeps-A-Lot.
Jensen shook himself. "Don't break anything. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
He hurried to his room and shut the door. He was not wearing tights, at least there was that. It was a rather tight outfit, though. He took a deep breath and began to change into Captain America. Ten minutes later, he wanted to castrate whoever invented the unitard, but he was dressed and impressive-looking. He hefted his Captain America shield and surveyed himself in the mirror. He should probably wear his skullcap thing to complete the look, but he had limited visibility in that thing. And he hated it besides.
"Okay, you guys," he said, walking into the living room. Jared paused, Harrison dangling upside-down from his hands. Jensen barked a laugh. "Why am I not surprised to find you two like this?"
"Wow, Dad, you look beautiful!" Harrison exclaimed.
"He means tough," Jared explained at Jensen's startled expression, carefully setting Harrison down on his bum. "I mean, if I weren't immune to your charms, I'd want to take you out back and -"
"Great, I think we're ready," Jensen interrupted, whacking Jared upside the head, knocking his antlers askew. "Come, Rocky. Bullwinkle can tag along behind."
Jared was still chortling under his breath as they gathered the cookies and left the house. Harrison skipped along in front, giddy with excitement for what was clearly going to be the best day of school ever.
"You nervous?" Jared asked softly.
"What? No," Jensen scoffed.
"Uh huh. You realize you're wearing a costume that makes you look like sex on a stick. To a children's party."
Jensen glared at him. "The theme is 'Comic Book Superheroes,' Einstein. All of the chaperones will look like this."
Jared snorted. "Jen, none of the chaperones will look like that. You're fucking hot, just as hot as me."
Jensen looked him up and down. He didn't know anyone as secure in their sexuality as Jared, all 6-foot, 5-inch of him covered in a ridiculous moose costume.
"I think we can safely assume that no one will look quite like you, either," he said finally.
"Damn straight," Jared muttered. "I was born to be Bullwinkle."
Alona and Veronica met them in the parking lot. Jensen had to admit that Alona could pull off the spandex look nicely, too. Veronica gave them a gapped-tooth smile from the depths of her panda costume.
"Lift me up!" she demanded of Jared. No sooner had he bent to oblige her than Harrison decided that he simply must be picked up, too, and clearly Jared had to do it, since he was Bullwinkle.
"Good idea, putting Jared to work," Alona said to Jensen, nodding in approval as the moose carried the panda under one arm and the squirrel under the other into the school. "Did you have a good time decorating yesterday?" she asked with a sly smile.
"I owe you," he admitted. "What could Captain America do for Sue Storm?"
"Get laid," she laughed. "You're funny when you're falling all over Mr. Misha."
Jensen regretted leaving his face-piece off when his cheeks flamed.
The classroom was utter chaos when they made it inside, so much so that Jensen couldn't see the trench coat Misha was supposed to be wearing through the sea of kids, parents and superhero chaperones. Harrison and Veronica immediately dragged Jared over to their masks, which Jensen had hung next to each other. He kept one ear on their prattle as he scanned the crowd. Alona plucked the cookies from his hands and gave him a little nudge towards the cubby holes. Sure enough, Misha-as-Constantine rose from a crouch and his eyes met Jensen's. Jensen felt a little flush of pride at the way the other man's eyes widened when he took in Jensen's costume.
"Jensen!" he exclaimed, navigating around several desks, a Power Ranger, a Transformer and Tinker Bell to get to his side. "I have no idea who that superhero is, but I am suddenly filled with the burning desire to learn all I can about him."
"I'm Captain America," Jensen said, laughing. "There's this face thing I should be wearing, but I can't see well out of it, so I left it off."
"I wouldn't want your face covered, either," Misha murmured. He gave himself a small shake. "And do I look like your Constantine?" he asked, holding his arms out and spinning.
"Yeah. You look completely bada - tough," he corrected himself.
Misha's eyes sparkled at him. "Good. We should get this show on the road, shouldn't we?" He didn't wait for an answer, but clapped his hands together loudly. "Fairies and princesses, heroes and heroines, villains and minions - everyone form up, we're heading to the gym for the costume parade. Parents, please take your seats in the gymnasium. Chaperones, inject a little order into this kid soup."
Thus followed four hours of barely controlled chaos. The entire kindergarten paraded past their parents (Jensen dealt with three skinned knees, two accidental shovings, two deliberate shovings, one torn costume and one wig theft), then attended a skit put on by the third-graders on Dia de los Muertos (Jensen learned that glow-in-the-dark dancing skeletons were one of the top four scary objects to five-year-olds), and finally divided back into their separate classrooms for Halloween brunch (Jensen discovered that orange and green scrambled eggs on top of a variety of Twix, Twizzlers and Almond Joys made an unholy alliance when they came back up a five-year-old's throat).
Finally the bell for the half-day rang, and Jensen let out a sigh of relief. Parents and kids and candy began to file out of the room, leaving Misha and his fellow comic book superheroes to clean up the mess. Jensen gave Harrison a big hug and thanked him for being such a good Rocky all day, and promised him a special treat for that evening. Bullwinkle carried a triumphant Rocky out on his shoulders. Alona finished packing up the leftover food and left soon after with Veronica. That just left Jensen, Misha and the other three superhero chaperones. Iron Man flat-out refused to touch the vomit. Jensen rolled his eyes and set to work. Vomit came part and parcel with being a parent. Iron Man needed to develop an iron stomach.
Eventually Jean Grey took down the last of the lights, said her goodbyes and Jensen and Misha were left alone. Misha heaved a great sigh.
"Tell me the truth," he said, pointing his finger, "best party ever, or what?"
"Well, Jared always says it's not a party until someone's horked on the carpet, so, yeah, I'd have to call this a resounding success."
Misha made a face. "Thanks for dealing with that. I think there's some industrial-strength hand soap in the supply closet. Let me see here…"
"Whoa," Jensen breathed, following him into the large walk-in closet and looking around at the neatly labeled and color-coded shelves. "This thing is huge. And so organized."
Misha paused in the back corner. "Oh my God. You're turned on by this, aren't you?"
Jensen shot him a sheepish grin. He couldn't help it. There was just something sexy about the scissors and glue next to each other, and up high, out of the reach of little, grabby hands. Bottom rows? Tubs of blocks and play-doh. Cleaning supplies? In the locked cabinet Misha was fumbling to open. It was a thing of beauty.
"Did you arrange this?" Jensen asked casually, waving his hand at the shelves.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but not a chance." Misha grinned up at him and gave a final tug to the padlock, and the cleaning cabinet swung open. "This is the supply cabinet for all of kindergarten. Principal Kripke showed it to me himself. I mess it up on pain of death." He laughed softly at Jensen's fallen expression. "Don't worry, I'm not a total slob! My house is highly organized chaos."
"Highly organized?" Jensen asked, cocking a brow. He reached around Misha for the soap, by necessity moving a couple of steps closer. His heart was pounding and he knew his shaky breath was brushing Misha's lips.
"Mmm. You should come there and see." His smile was fucking blinding, totally letting Jensen in on the joke of the super cheesy come-on. "Ask me to find anything there, and I can." Misha's hand trailed lightly up the Captain America suit before yanking Jensen's neck close for an aggressive kiss. His fingers tangled in the short hairs at the nape of Jensen's neck and then they were off and running. There was none of the delicate making out of the day before. Jensen barely got the closet door closed before Misha was slamming him up against it and shoving his knee between Jensen's legs. Jensen's eyes stuttered closed in pleasure as he thrust his tongue repeatedly into Misha's mouth, sucking on the other man's tongue with a distinct lack of finesse. Misha didn't seem to mind, judging from his throaty groans and the way he ground his hips against Jensen's cock through the uniform.
Both of them seemed to realize at the same time that it was going to be a bear getting out of the Captain America suit. Misha swore brazenly as his fingers fumbled for the zipper at the back of Jensen's neck, and Jensen had to laugh, his mind whirling. They were going to do this, right there in the supply closet, and Jensen would see Misha again every weekday for the next couple of months at least. It was too late to stop and assess the situation, too late to ask what Misha wanted. The thought chilled him until Misha got a good grip on the zipper and tugged it down, then Misha's mouth was on his neck, trailing down his chest, delicately taking a nipple inside and sucking, and Jensen stopped worrying. He fumbled with Misha's belt buckle and zipper, reaching inside Misha's pants and pulling out his cock. He gave it a small squeeze, and Misha gasped, his teeth grazing Jensen's nipple. The Captain America uniform was pushed unceremoniously down to mid-thigh, and then Misha's hand was on Jensen's cock while he mouthed at Jensen's other nipple. Jensen's head banged against the door, a rhythm of WANT! and MORE! and NOW! Jensen's lips brushed over any skin he could reach, tasting clean sweat and cotton, his nostrils filled with the smell of Misha's spicy cologne. He swiped his thumb over the head of Misha's cock and groaned a loud "Mishaaaaaaa!" Misha came with a moan over Jensen's hand, and gripped Jensen tight around the neck to stay upright while Jensen fucked into his other hand, banging his head against the door one last time and coming hard when Misha swiped his tongue up Jensen's neck.
They caught their breaths, panting, until Misha gave a low chuckle. "Good thing we have all these cleaning supplies."
Jensen huffed a laugh and slid down the door, pulling Misha with him. They kissed lazily, fingers slowly mapping the planes of each other's bodies. Jensen couldn't tell where they were going to go from there, but for once, he thought he'd let the chips fall where they may.
***
They went on three dates the next week, a lesson in coloring outside the lines for Jensen. He was not a fast mover, though when pressed, he could say that the most important relationship in his life (outside of family) had been an immediate connection. But who could resist Jared? Misha was the same way, fitting into the nooks and crannies Jensen hadn't even realized were so empty.
They went to a movie and made out in the back row like teenagers. Jensen couldn't remember the last time he had gone to see a movie and not formulated a detailed review for it before he even left the theater. He didn't even remember the name of this movie, just the taste of Misha's neck beneath his lips and the choked-off sound of Misha's gasps when he brought him off with his hand.
Misha joined them for dinner at their house after Misha let slip that some of the other parents were inviting him for dinner, in a kind of 'welcome to the school, long-term sub' way. Jensen stuck with burgers and a decadent apple pie from his favorite bakery, remembering the snickerdoodle disaster. Harrison was giddy with excitement, taking Misha by the hand and dragging him through the house, pointing out all his toys. Jensen took him by the hand after Harrison had gone to bed and led him into his bedroom. They fucked as quietly as possible, sweat sticking Jensen's back to Misha's chest, Jensen craning his neck to lick at Misha's chin or jaw or earlobe, whatever he could reach, each time Misha's cock brushed his prostate and he wanted to shout, each time Misha's hand gripped his cock and gave it a tug.
Jensen took Misha to a photography exhibit and held his hand. Their fingers laced together nicely and Jensen couldn't help the wide smile that stretched across his face. Misha made him grin for absolutely no reason. It was a new sensation. He hadn't even made a pro / con list about taking Misha to one of his favorite places. He'd just done it. There was supposed to be someone like that for everyone, but Jensen had always thought it a rom-com cliché before now. But as they ducked into the janitor's closet and Misha sank to his knees with a wicked grin, Jensen had to consider that maybe it could happen to him, too.
They continued seeing each other frequently as the November days got shorter and shorter and the nights got longer and longer. Misha never stayed the entire night, in an unspoken agreement to keep the extent of their relationship from Harrison for the time being. But he would always stay for a little while, lounging in the sweaty sheets and telling Jensen stories from his past.
Misha was weird, there was no doubt about that. Jensen told him so, and he just laughed.
"I prefer the label 'Renaissance Man,' if you insist on labeling me at all," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, and pushed Jensen onto his back to start Round Two for the night.
Misha had run the Jungle Cruise ride at Disney World one summer in college; he'd apprenticed himself to a master carpenter and learned how to make furniture; he'd rescued two boxes of mice from a cosmetics company; he'd covered himself in pink paint and streaked during the live telecast of a beauty pageant whose judge had made widely-publicized disparaging remarks about gays; he'd run marathons in Greece, Hawaii, Spain and Delaware; he'd planted an outhouse on the moon. ("That one's a bit of an exaggeration," he confessed to Jensen.) Misha talked about politics, books he'd read, his love of poetry, art he'd seen that had moved him, men and women he'd dated (Jensen fought back a surge of jealousy whenever these past loves were mentioned, and Misha soon stopped bringing them up), places he'd traveled to that were filled with natural wonders (and places that were just butt-ugly). He told Jensen about his second job, just a hobby, really - making candles. He enjoyed playing with the colors and scents, and brought Jensen little nubs of experiments.
Jensen took in all the stories, lapping up each word, but whenever Misha asked a question about his life, he answered with an anecdote about Harrison or Jared. He ignored the small spark of disappointment that would flare in Misha's eyes whenever he deflected a question, and did his best to erase it with sex. He did a lot of erasing.
The Friday before Thanksgiving, Jensen picked Harrison up as usual from school and exchanged lingering glances with Misha. They had plans for Saturday night, the first time Misha would stay the whole night, as Harrison had been invited to spend the night at Veronica's. Both children were giddy with excitement over plans that included pitching a tent in Alona's living room and making s'mores in the microwave. And apparently an epic game of 'zoo,' as Jensen discovered later that afternoon when Harrison freaked out about leaving his super-special lion mask in his cubby at school.
Jared rolled his eyes when Jensen readily volunteered to go back to the school and get it, but took Harrison by the hand and led him into the studio regardless. Jensen left them both hunched over pieces of drawing paper.
The older students had been let out of classes about fifteen minutes before Jensen returned to the school and the hallways were strangely silent. His pulse quickened in anticipation of seeing Misha again, of having him to himself. The grin was already spreading across his face when he pushed open the door of Misha's classroom.
His heart took a nosedive to his feet and his stomach threatened to come up. Misha was not alone. A willowy blonde woman held him in a tight clench. Jensen's lips moved, but no sound came out. He backed slowly out of the room and shut the door.
Jensen walked, unseeing, down the hallway. He most certainly did not run. And he was most certainly not retreating with his tail between his legs. His mind whirled as he tried to make sense of what he'd seen; to label it and dissect it and come up with a plan of action. Though it was true that he and Misha had made no spoken promises of exclusivity, Jensen hadn't thought they were necessary. They had a connection! And while that didn't make it a 'be free for sex and eternal devotion when I swing by your place later' type of connection, it was in Jensen's mind. Jealousy tried to choke him, and he beat it viciously down.
He stopped at the end of the corridor. The heavy double doors stood there, silent and cold and definitely mocking him.
The squeak of a sole against the waxed linoleum alerted him to a presence behind him. His shoulders stiffened. He'd be damned if he was going to turn and smile and act like nothing was wrong. He reached for the bar across the doors.
"Jensen!"
His hand lingered on the bar as he waffled between giving Misha the cold shoulder or ripping him a new one. Misha took the decision from him, and he resented that, too; resented the touch of Misha's hand on his arm, the insistent way Misha tugged him into an empty classroom.
"What do you want, Misha? You looked pretty busy," he snarled. Okay, so he wasn't going to be particularly mature about this. Good to know.
Misha sighed and ran a hand through his hair - hair which was already on-end because the blonde had been gripping it. Jensen clenched his fists at his sides to keep himself from putting them through a desk.
"That wasn't what it looked like," Misha started, and Jensen rolled his eyes.
"Was she kissing you?" he barked.
"Yes, but -"
"Well, that's what it looked like! So in what way could it not be that, if that's what was happening?!" His voice was rising. He was losing his cool, which he really, really hated and rarely ever did.
"She's an ex-girlfriend, and she was just dropping stuff off for me! That was a goodbye kiss!" Misha snapped back.
"An ex?" Jensen asked, eyes narrowing. "She had her arms around you, man."
"Oh my God!" Misha threw his arms up in the air. "Either you trust me or you don't. What's it going to be, Jensen?"
Jensen hesitated. Misha looked away, shaking his head.
"I guess I should expect that of you," he said bitterly. "You don't ever put yourself out there, do you, Jen? You want me to be your boyfriend, but you don't want to be mine."
"Misha -"
"Please just leave." There was a finality to his statement that froze Jensen to his core, but he was still too angry to let Misha see that.
"I came here to get something out of Harrison's cubby." He kept his voice even through sheer force of will.
"Of course you did." Misha barked a mirthless laugh. "Get it and go."
***
Continue to Part Two here.