Just Wondering [Mark/Misha]
Title: Just Wondering
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Misha Collins/Mark Pellegrino
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 1200
Summary: Misha knows about slash fiction, and Mark's a little curious.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Notes: Written for some awesome person who wanted to see some Mark/Misha in spnkink_meme, and who can say no to that? Inspired by +this video+ , which pretty much made my day when I saw it. Slightly cracky (as it is a slash fic, wherin they talk about slash fic). Also, if Mark/Misha can't be Marksha... Mishark?!? \0/ I think I'm in love.
Mark was confused. Intrigued, really. But, definitely not interested.
In Misha, that is.
Misha was sort of odd, and a lot of things that Mark really wasn't. He was very open and talkative, which Mark kind of liked. And, at times, Mark could be just the same. But the main difference was what they talked about. Misha had this affinity for slash fiction, and Mark just didn't get it. No, that wasn't exactly true, either. He gets what it is, and he gets why people write it. He gets where it comes from, and how it's become so popular. But, what he doesn't get, is why Misha talks about it, sounding like he loves the stuff! This is what Mark doesn't get.
So, when Misha's sitting beside him on stage, retelling the tale of "I read part of one, once", Mark listens, and he listens good.
Nope.
Still doesn't get it.
"Do you have to answer those questions all the time?" Mark wonders out loud as he's sitting in Misha's room later that night. It's still fairly early, yet the sun is falling low, and the heat of the day is finally dying down. Misha is on the bed, fiddling with his phone, and Mark doesn't even need to ask to know that he's on Twitter.
"Pretty much, yes," Misha answers with distraction, and Mark considers leaving. "I give the same answers every time though, so I'm not sure why it always comes up." Misha's voice is low and distant as the phone sucks up his attention.
"Did you really read one?" Mark smirks suddenly, only now remembering to ask. He's always been amused by the thought of Misha's inevitable reaction, but... the topic just never came up. Not in a place where people weren't filming, anyway.
"Oh yeah," Misha huffs in amusement, grinning softly. "Not gonna do it again," he adds.
Mark slumps down in the chair beside the bed, wondering... just wondering. Wondering why he was wondering what Misha had been wondering.
"It was Castiel and Dean, right?" Mark's not even sure why he's asking, as it makes no difference at all. Sometimes, he just feels kind of left out, being that he doesn't need to deal with questions like that. And for that small blessing, he's grateful, but it's still one more thing that makes him feel just that much out of place among them.
"Ah..." Misha's face twists into something Mark's not sure he's seen before. It's sort of alarming... for a moment. But, at least Misha's put the damn phone down. "No."
Mark nods mechanically, not wanting to push it any further. He didn't really want to talk about it, after all. "Who then?"
Apparently, his mouth disagrees with his mind.
Misha crinkles the corners of his eyes, scrunching his nose in a way that is awkward and playful, and Mark's suddenly not even sure if he really wants to know, but Misha's answering anyhow. "It was Lucifer?" His words come out sounding more like a question than an answer, and he seems to notice, for he rephrases immediately. "Lucifer and Cas, I mean."
Mark thinks about it for a minute, and it only takes that long for him to decide that the TV should be on.
Misha laughs softly as Mark flicks through the channels, making a point not to think about Lucifer and Cas, because, really... well.
"You're totally thinking about it, aren't you." Misha's way too damn amused.
"No." Mark smiles as he shakes his head, knowing that Misha knows it's impossible not to be picturing Lucifer fucking Cas, which is essentially just picturing --
"You're a liar!" Misha is laughing now, soft smirks and chuckles gone. Mark just shrugs as he gives the remote control a rest.
"Tell me about it." Mark leans back in the chair, unsure why exactly he wants to hear more. But there's something in Misha's eyes that says it's okay, and Mark's not gonna let that go.
"Lucifer wanted to 'punish' Castiel for helping Sam evade him, or something like that." Misha slides down on the bed, settling further into the mattress as he speaks. "It was kind of rough, I guess." Misha looks serious and thoughtful, as if this discussion was totally legit and important. Maybe to Misha, it is. 'Cause Misha's weird like that.
"Oh." Mark's not sure what to say. He hadn't really thought of the fact that he'd be in slash fiction. Well, not him. Lucifer, of course. No one writes slash about Mark Pellegrino, after all.
"And Castiel was a slut for it too," Misha's words come sudden and loud, and Mark is half choking, half laughing at the absurdity of it.
"What?" Mark's not even sure that he can breathe, so he takes a deep breath in as Misha answers.
"Like, he loved it, dude! Lucifer had him on his knees in seconds, it was rather disturbing." Misha's eyes are wide, and Mark's pretty glad he took that breath. He's also glad when Misha keeps talking, because Mark? He's starting to feel really fucking awkward about this.
"You fucked me real hard too. I was hurtin' as I read it." Misha laughs, just for a moment, and Mark, well, he does too. Until they realize, at the same time, that Misha slipped up, and...
"You're not supposed to be thinking about you and me! It's... Castiel and Lucifer." Mark raises an eyebrow as he brushes it off, simple mistake. One he likely would have made himself, had he been the one telling the story.
"Yeah! Yeah, I know." Misha bends his arms back, resting his hands behind his head as he shrugs against the mattress. "But where's the fun in that?" Misha grins wickedly, eyes darkening just slightly as Mark flounders for words, feeling like his limbs are heavy and his head is light.
"You... " Mark feels his face knit in confusion as Misha's face softens, or hardens... whichever one means he's getting serious. "You think --"
His words are cut off by Misha's phone, that damn phone, chirping on the bed where it was dropped. He's not sure if he's frustrated or relieved.
"Sorry, I gotta take this." Misha gets off the bed, walking away easily. Just... walking away, like he didn't just make Mark's heart do something real weird.
Mark watches as he slips into the hall, leaving him alone in Misha's room. Now would be a good a good time to leave, as it is getting late and all. But, Mark doesn't budge, just settles lower into the chair as he flicks off the TV.
He thinks he's gonna stick around to hear the rest of the story.
-End-
Author:casiedearestfic
Pairing: Misha Collins/Mark Pellegrino
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Words: 1200
Summary: Misha knows about slash fiction, and Mark's a little curious.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys. All characters belong to respective copyrights.
Notes: Written for some awesome person who wanted to see some Mark/Misha in spnkink_meme, and who can say no to that? Inspired by +this video+ , which pretty much made my day when I saw it. Slightly cracky (as it is a slash fic, wherin they talk about slash fic). Also, if Mark/Misha can't be Marksha... Mishark?!? \0/ I think I'm in love.
Mark was confused. Intrigued, really. But, definitely not interested.
In Misha, that is.
Misha was sort of odd, and a lot of things that Mark really wasn't. He was very open and talkative, which Mark kind of liked. And, at times, Mark could be just the same. But the main difference was what they talked about. Misha had this affinity for slash fiction, and Mark just didn't get it. No, that wasn't exactly true, either. He gets what it is, and he gets why people write it. He gets where it comes from, and how it's become so popular. But, what he doesn't get, is why Misha talks about it, sounding like he loves the stuff! This is what Mark doesn't get.
So, when Misha's sitting beside him on stage, retelling the tale of "I read part of one, once", Mark listens, and he listens good.
Nope.
Still doesn't get it.
"Do you have to answer those questions all the time?" Mark wonders out loud as he's sitting in Misha's room later that night. It's still fairly early, yet the sun is falling low, and the heat of the day is finally dying down. Misha is on the bed, fiddling with his phone, and Mark doesn't even need to ask to know that he's on Twitter.
"Pretty much, yes," Misha answers with distraction, and Mark considers leaving. "I give the same answers every time though, so I'm not sure why it always comes up." Misha's voice is low and distant as the phone sucks up his attention.
"Did you really read one?" Mark smirks suddenly, only now remembering to ask. He's always been amused by the thought of Misha's inevitable reaction, but... the topic just never came up. Not in a place where people weren't filming, anyway.
"Oh yeah," Misha huffs in amusement, grinning softly. "Not gonna do it again," he adds.
Mark slumps down in the chair beside the bed, wondering... just wondering. Wondering why he was wondering what Misha had been wondering.
"It was Castiel and Dean, right?" Mark's not even sure why he's asking, as it makes no difference at all. Sometimes, he just feels kind of left out, being that he doesn't need to deal with questions like that. And for that small blessing, he's grateful, but it's still one more thing that makes him feel just that much out of place among them.
"Ah..." Misha's face twists into something Mark's not sure he's seen before. It's sort of alarming... for a moment. But, at least Misha's put the damn phone down. "No."
Mark nods mechanically, not wanting to push it any further. He didn't really want to talk about it, after all. "Who then?"
Apparently, his mouth disagrees with his mind.
Misha crinkles the corners of his eyes, scrunching his nose in a way that is awkward and playful, and Mark's suddenly not even sure if he really wants to know, but Misha's answering anyhow. "It was Lucifer?" His words come out sounding more like a question than an answer, and he seems to notice, for he rephrases immediately. "Lucifer and Cas, I mean."
Mark thinks about it for a minute, and it only takes that long for him to decide that the TV should be on.
Misha laughs softly as Mark flicks through the channels, making a point not to think about Lucifer and Cas, because, really... well.
"You're totally thinking about it, aren't you." Misha's way too damn amused.
"No." Mark smiles as he shakes his head, knowing that Misha knows it's impossible not to be picturing Lucifer fucking Cas, which is essentially just picturing --
"You're a liar!" Misha is laughing now, soft smirks and chuckles gone. Mark just shrugs as he gives the remote control a rest.
"Tell me about it." Mark leans back in the chair, unsure why exactly he wants to hear more. But there's something in Misha's eyes that says it's okay, and Mark's not gonna let that go.
"Lucifer wanted to 'punish' Castiel for helping Sam evade him, or something like that." Misha slides down on the bed, settling further into the mattress as he speaks. "It was kind of rough, I guess." Misha looks serious and thoughtful, as if this discussion was totally legit and important. Maybe to Misha, it is. 'Cause Misha's weird like that.
"Oh." Mark's not sure what to say. He hadn't really thought of the fact that he'd be in slash fiction. Well, not him. Lucifer, of course. No one writes slash about Mark Pellegrino, after all.
"And Castiel was a slut for it too," Misha's words come sudden and loud, and Mark is half choking, half laughing at the absurdity of it.
"What?" Mark's not even sure that he can breathe, so he takes a deep breath in as Misha answers.
"Like, he loved it, dude! Lucifer had him on his knees in seconds, it was rather disturbing." Misha's eyes are wide, and Mark's pretty glad he took that breath. He's also glad when Misha keeps talking, because Mark? He's starting to feel really fucking awkward about this.
"You fucked me real hard too. I was hurtin' as I read it." Misha laughs, just for a moment, and Mark, well, he does too. Until they realize, at the same time, that Misha slipped up, and...
"You're not supposed to be thinking about you and me! It's... Castiel and Lucifer." Mark raises an eyebrow as he brushes it off, simple mistake. One he likely would have made himself, had he been the one telling the story.
"Yeah! Yeah, I know." Misha bends his arms back, resting his hands behind his head as he shrugs against the mattress. "But where's the fun in that?" Misha grins wickedly, eyes darkening just slightly as Mark flounders for words, feeling like his limbs are heavy and his head is light.
"You... " Mark feels his face knit in confusion as Misha's face softens, or hardens... whichever one means he's getting serious. "You think --"
His words are cut off by Misha's phone, that damn phone, chirping on the bed where it was dropped. He's not sure if he's frustrated or relieved.
"Sorry, I gotta take this." Misha gets off the bed, walking away easily. Just... walking away, like he didn't just make Mark's heart do something real weird.
Mark watches as he slips into the hall, leaving him alone in Misha's room. Now would be a good a good time to leave, as it is getting late and all. But, Mark doesn't budge, just settles lower into the chair as he flicks off the TV.
He thinks he's gonna stick around to hear the rest of the story.
-End-