Fic: Child Rearing for Beginners
Title: Child Rearing for Beginners
Author: discreetmath
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Warnings: Brief mention of homophobia.
Word Count: 5500
Summary: Jensen doesn't think anything could be worse than having to play father to an egg for his Home Ec class. Then he gets partnered with Misha, and whether that's better or worse remains to be seen.
A/N: Written for this prompt on deancaskink.
Disclaimer: These people do not belong to me, and this is all fiction.
Crossposted to AO3.
Jensen stares at the egg, tucked into its little holder on the desk in front of him. It's staring back at him, all full of needs and expectations and, well, yolk. Probably. He drops his head into his hands and groans; he really doesn't have time for this shit, not in the spring of his senior year when he's more worried about getting ready for college than learning how to take care of the world's least convincing approximation of a baby.
"Something wrong, Jensen?"
He jerks his head up and tries to plaster on a charming smile for Mrs. Monroe, the Home Ec teacher, but she just levels an unimpressed look at him.
"I'm sure Jensen's just upset," comes a voice from behind him. "Seeing your offspring take on your unfortunate head shape has got to be a trying thing for a parent to experience."
There's a smattering of laughter around the room. Jensen just shuts his eyes and counts to ten, because no way is he getting in trouble for punching Misha Collins in his stupid smug face.
"Okay, children, moving right along," Mrs. Monroe says brightly, "I know in past years, other teachers have done this section differently. Either they pair off a boy and a girl to be parents, or they just have the girls take care of eggs while the boys learn a more gender-appropriate skill. Frankly, I think that's stupid, so we're doing this my way."
Nobody's really surprised; their eggs had been at their desks when they sat down, one for everybody. Apparently she thinks that being a single parent will be more of a challenge, and it will keep people from pawning off their eggs onto a partner. Since it's just Jensen and his mom, he knows that the first part is true, although he's not exactly comparing this project to the crap his mom's had to deal with over the last thirteen years.
She's just wrapping up the guidelines for the assignment when the bell rings: personalizing the egg is okay, within reason, and breaking, losing, or eating the egg is grounds for failure, at her discretion. Jensen pushes his chair back when she's done, scooping up his books and contemplating his egg. He's going to need to get some kind of better container for this thing, because he has no plans of screwing up his GPA over Home Ec, of all things.
He's trying to think of the best way to get it safely to his chemistry lab when he feels someone shove past him, knocking his books to the floor. Of course, he thinks.
"What the hell, Misha?" he bursts out. Misha ignores him, which just pisses him off even more. Without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the other boy's shoulder, dragging him back to demand an explanation. As Misha turns, his stack of books shifts, and the egg perched on top wobbles dangerously.
It's like it's happening in slow motion; they both watch Misha's egg tumble out of the box, and it's splattering against the tile before they can even think to react. Jensen stares at the deep orange puddle of yolk for a long moment before he glances up and sees the murderous look on Misha's face.
"Oh, shit, man," Jensen says quickly. "I swear I wasn't trying to do that. I'm so sorry."
"Right," Misha grits out, "I bet you fucking are. Don't waste my time acting like you give a shit, Ackles. Just help me get another egg, because if I fail this class, it's going to be your fault. And I hold a grudge."
"You don't say," Jensen mutters irritably, but he ignores the sharp look Misha fixes on him and turns a contrite look on Mrs. Monroe, who already looks exasperated with them. "I'm really sorry, but I bumped into Misha and busted his egg. It was totally my fault, and we're not even out of the classroom yet, so can he just get another one?"
"Listen, boys," she says, her eyes soft. "I really wish I could do that, but there are exactly twenty-four students in this class. Two dozen! Do you know the chances of that? Unfortunately, that means I don't have any spares."
"Are… are you serious?" Misha asks incredulously. "If that's the issue, I can buy another egg. It's not a problem, it really isn't."
"If only it were that simple," she says, voice loaded with false sincerity, "but I can't allow a non-regulation egg to be a part of this assignment. Not even after yours suffered such a tragic, completely accidental demise," she adds with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look to Jensen.
Jensen can't believe this. She's obviously just fucking with them at this point.
"So what can he do?" he asks, trying to swallow down his frustration.
"Well…" she taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I could make an exception in this case. Instead of a single parent, Jensen's egg will just have two dads. I suggest you take care of it together, and don't break this one," she says as students start filtering in for the next class.
"Wait, what?" Jensen just gapes at her. "No way, I'm not sharing mine." The look she gives him makes him shut his mouth in a hurry.
"Either you do, or I fail you both for reckless endangerment of a pseudo-child. Involuntary eggslaughter. I don't know, I'll come up with something. Now, I suggest you work this out between the two of you, and then get to class. I'm not writing any passes."
Jensen just nods, grabbing his stuff and following Misha out into the hall.
"Dude, that was ridiculous," he says once they get out of the classroom. "She was just making that up as she went along."
"I don't think you're really in a position to complain," Misha says icily. "This is your fault, remember? I have gym next, so you'll have to keep the egg until the end of the day, and for the love of God, don't break this one. I'll meet you at your locker after last period."
Then he's gone, and Jensen just dumbly watches him walk away until he realizes his eyes have landed on Misha's ass. It's not exactly his fault -- the guy is wearing a snug pair of jeans and a well-cut waistcoat -- but he makes a frustrated noise and turns his attention back to the egg. It looks like it's judging him.
The bell rings, and he realizes with a start that he's the only one in the hallway. He takes a second to make sure he's got a solid grip on his egg, and then he rushes off to his next class.
---
"Whoa, dude, seriously? Misha Collins? You must have punched a baby seal or something if you're getting this kind of karmic retribution."
Jensen scowls as he disconnects the Bunsen burner and takes it to the cabinet. He's been waiting all period to tell Jared what happened, but now he's just getting pissed off all over again.
"It was an accident, okay? Not my fault."
"An accident?" Jared frowns at him skeptically. "How do you accidentally punch a baby seal?"
"Oh, fuck you," Jensen mutters, but he can feel a smile forcing its way onto his face. "You know what I meant."
"Well, look on the bright side," Jared says. "Today's Wednesday, and you only have to keep the thing in one piece until Monday afternoon. I'd be happy to egg-sit, too, if you and Misha need some alone time. You know, to rekindle your romance and stuff," he adds in a stage whisper.
"What?" Jensen flushes. "The last thing I need is alone time with Misha, believe me." He ignores the knowing look Jared gives him at that, and he goes to grab his stuff. "I'll call you later, let you know how it goes," he says, heading for the door.
"Wait, Jen!" Jared calls out as Jensen leaves the room. "Which one of you is going to be Daddy? I think you'd make a good Papa, honestly."
If he had a free hand, he'd be giving Jared the middle finger, but as it is, he just rolls his eyes and heads to his locker to deal with Misha.
---
"So I figure we can work out a joint custody thing, right? I'll keep it today, and you'll take it tomorrow, and we'll just alternate until Monday." They're sitting on the steps in front of the high school, and Jensen's eager to get home.
"Him," Misha says absently, digging through his messenger bag.
"What?"
"I'm just saying, I'd prefer it if you wouldn't refer to our son as 'it.' It's going to give him a complex," he says seriously, fishing out his phone.
"Son? I bet you named him, too. Like, Egglebert or something, didn't you?" Misha gives him a withering look.
"I'm not looking to make his life hell, Jensen, and I wouldn't have named him without asking you. That's not exactly equitable parenting."
"Oh. Well, whatever, not like I care what we name the thing. So are you cool with taking turns, or what?"
"Honestly? Not really. Mrs. Monroe isn't likely to give us points for giving him an unstable home life." Misha drags a hand through his hair and sighs. "I think we're going to have to work together, not that I like it any more than you."
"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about," Jensen protests, "I've got no problem with you."
"Right," Misha says with a harsh laugh. "Of course you don't. Anyway, I've got drama club rehearsal tonight, but give me your number and I'll call you after so we can work out a plan."
Jensen does, a little bit stunned, and then stands there feeling confused while Misha jogs back up the steps and into the school.
"Looks like it's just you and me, eggy." He curls the box in tight to his chest and sets off for home.
---
"I don't know why he wants to do it together, Jay. The guy hates me, and hell if I know why." Jensen tucks a little bit more foam padding into the box on his lap, because there's no way this egg is getting broken. The cardboard is sturdier than the cut-up egg crate he had to begin with, so hopefully it will hold up.
"Maybe because you brutally rejected him junior year? Is that ringing any bells?"
"Um, okay, I didn't reject him. All I did was take some time to think about it, and two days later he's acting like I have the plague."
"Maybe you were just a really bad kisser?" Jared suggests, and Jensen yanks the phone away from his ear to glare at it.
"Fuck you," he says easily, tucking the phone back into the crook of his shoulder. "Of course it was bad, the guy jumped on me out of nowhere. I didn't have my A game ready." He scowls when he hears Jared's laughter booming over the line.
"Anyway, all I'm saying is try to make the best of it. I know you've been pining."
"I have not been pining," Jensen starts, but then he hears his phone beep. He glances at the screen and curses softly. "I've gotta go, man. I'll see you in the morning."
"Hey, tell Mish I said hi!" Jared says excitedly. "Maybe he can come out with us on Friday."
Jensen switches over to the other call before he can hear the rest of that brilliant idea.
"Hey, Misha," he says as pleasantly as he can manage. "How's it going?"
"Um, it's fine," Misha responds. "How's Dmitri?"
"Dmitri?" Jensen laughs. "Seriously, that's what you're going with?"
"Hey, I didn't pick it," Misha says defensively. "The universe bestows this information upon me; it's just my job to pass it along. Besides, you said you didn't care."
"Uh-huh, right, man. Anyway, Dmitri is fine. I upgraded his box to something a little sturdier and added some padding."
"Oh." Misha sounds surprised, like he expected Jensen to have already cooked and eaten the stupid thing. "Thanks, I was thinking about doing the same thing."
"Yeah, no problem," Jensen mumbles. He's trying to wrap his head around the idea that they're having a civil conversation for the first time in more than a year. "So, what's the plan?"
"Well, I can definitely take him in the mornings. I figure we can sit together in Home Ec and then switch out afterwards since I have gym in the afternoon." He pauses. "I have rehearsal on Saturday morning, but other than that we should probably spend some time together outside of school. In case Mrs. Monroe asks," he adds quickly.
"Okay, that's probably smart. Do you want to come by here tomorrow after school? I'm sure I have some age-appropriate movies for the egg." Really, Jensen, you can stop talking whenever.
"Yeah, all right," Misha says, but he sounds kind of subdued. Jensen should have known this wouldn't go well.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Sure. Tell Dmitri good night for me."
Jensen laughs, and he's just about to make a joke when he realizes Misha already hung up. Well, fine then.
---
The next day goes by unbelievably quickly, probably because Jensen's trying to put off this joint-parenting thing as long as possible. He and Misha barely speak in Home Ec, and the prospect of bringing that awkwardness home is less than appealing.
Jared's no help, either. He seems to be listening more or less sympathetically, but his solution to all of Jensen's problems can pretty much be summed up as "just get on that already." Which, no. Not helping at all. Jensen figures it must suck for him; Jared and Misha had been friends, too, back before all of the weird shit happened, but Misha had snubbed them both.
Anyway, now Jensen's pacing in his entryway, waiting for Misha to show up. The last time he was at Jensen's house, he'd attacked him on the couch, so there's no telling how uncomfortable this is going to be. Finally, though, the doorbell rings, and he counts to ten before yanking it open.
He freezes for a second when he sees Misha, who's standing there holding a worn-out canvas bag. If he imagines hard enough, it could almost be a year ago and this could be a normal day, like they used to have.
"Um, I brought root beer. And salt and vinegar chips. Hopefully you still like that stuff," he says before trailing off. He raises one eyebrow, and Jensen flushes when he realizes he's just been standing in the doorway gaping.
"Sorry, man, come in. Of course I still like it. You get A&W?"
Misha just rolls his eyes and pushes past him into the house. Jensen snags the root beer out of his bag and takes it to the kitchen to get ice and glasses.
"So what are we watching?" Misha calls from the other room, and Jensen hears the bag of chips tear open.
"Um," he clears his throat and grabs the glasses, heading back into the living room. "I put Serenity in, but we can watch something else if you want."
"Serenity?" Misha laughs. "That's your idea of age-appropriate?" He gestures toward where the egg is sitting on the coffee table.
"Why not?" Jensen asks indignantly. "They don't even use real curse words."
"What about the Reavers?" Misha asks skeptically. "He might have nightmares."
"Hey, he's a big egg. Like, grade-A jumbo or something. He can handle it."
Jensen wants to pretend that it doesn't make something flip in his stomach when Misha laughs at that stupid joke, but his abilities to live in denial isn't quite that advanced. He sets the drinks on the table and flops down onto the couch next to Misha, grabbing the remote and pressing play.
He spends the first thirty minutes of the movie trying to ignore the fact that Misha's there, and then he finally gives up. Instead, he focuses on pretending not to be overly aware of Misha -- pretending his breath isn't catching every time he reaches for the chips and brushes Jensen's arm. Misha either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it, and he's grateful for that small favor.
Eventually, the movie drags him in, and before he knows it he's trying not to cry at the ending. He hears Misha sniffle, and shoots him a quick smile, but Misha just scowls in return.
All in all, it's not a bad way to spend an afternoon. Once the movie's over, they put their dishes in the kitchen and wander back into the living room. He's not sure what he should be doing, but Misha leans over the back of the couch and grabs the egg off the table with his thumb and forefinger.
"Shit, be careful," Jensen says, anxious at the careless way he's handling it.
"Stop being such a worrier. A child can't grow and thrive in a stifling, overprotective environment." He fishes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the egg toward Jensen. "Hold that up for me?"
Jensen does, even though he's kind of confused, and the next thing he knows, Misha is slipping an arm around his waist and using the other to hold the phone up in front of them.
"Say 'frittata,'" he says brightly, and then he's snapping a picture. Jensen knows he's got a lost expression, but Misha drops his arm and tucks the phone back into his pocket before he can see the photo. "I thought Mrs. Monroe might want proof. Better to cover all of our bases, you know?"
"Yeah," Jensen says dumbly. "Good call."
"All right. I'm headed home, and I'll take Dmitri, if that's cool with you. Since I get him in the morning anyway."
"Sure, sounds good."
Misha's got his bag and the egg, and he's just tugging the door open when Jensen gets his brain running again.
"Hey, Mish?"
Misha turns around, looking a little surprised.
"Yeah?"
"Jared wanted to know if you'll come out to Kane's tomorrow night. I know it's been a while, but you should come with us." He waits for a minute, fidgeting when Misha just stares at him. Finally, Misha smiles. It's barely even there, but Jensen lets out a silent sigh of relief.
"Yeah, Jen. I'll be there." Then he's leaving, pulling the door shut behind him, and Jensen collapses onto the couch with a groan. This is really not how he expected his week to go.
---
Friday morning seems to drag on, and Jensen is starting to think it's because he's actually looking forward to seeing Misha. Which is obviously ridiculous, because all the shit between them? It's not like it can just go away.
But then he walks into Home Ec, and when Misha catches sight of him he grins. It's so sudden and wide that Jensen nearly stumbles. He hasn't seen that smile in so long, the gummy one where Misha's eyes crinkle up, and he didn't realize just how much he missed it until right now. He makes it to their table on autopilot, setting his books down and dropping onto the chair.
"Misha," he says with a nod. He leans in toward where the egg is sitting on the next to Misha's books. "Dmitri," he says, quieter, and Misha chuckles.
"You know, I'm starting to worry about the fact that he doesn't have any hair yet," Misha says, petting the top of the egg. "The Collins men have always had thick, lustrous hair, so if you've got some kind of recessive gene, now is the time to tell me."
"Hopefully he has some of my hair-related genes. I remember last winter you decided to stop shaving, and you had a full beard in like, a week."
"That beard looked amazing!" Misha protests, indignant.
"You looked like a hobo," Jensen corrects, "and it was winter, so you were always bundled up like one. If you can tell me that nobody stuck any spare change in your coffee cup, I'll let it drop."
Misha just grumbles something unflattering about Jensen and places both hands over the egg.
"Sorry, little guy. You shouldn't have to hear this kind of verbal abuse from your parents." He's still smiling, but Jensen's suddenly worried that they aren't quite up to this level of ribbing just yet. It's just too easy to fall back into this routine.
"You know I'm kidding, though. That was an awesome beard. It made you look mysterious, like some pot-smoking drifter," he says, laughing when Misha drags a hand over his jaw thoughtfully.
"Maybe I'll bring it back next winter," he says. "Make some extra money panhandling to pay for my student loans."
"Oh yeah," Jensen says "You got into Northwestern, right?"
"Yeah," Misha confirms, giving him a strange look. He's acting like it's weird that Jensen has been keeping tabs on Misha through their moms, which it probably is, but whatever.
"Me too," he tells him, but then Mrs. Monroe is starting class, and he just gets a quick smile before he settles in for a dull class.
---
"So, he's really coming?" Jared asks, raising his voice a little so Jensen can hear him.
Jensen and Jared, plus one egg, are sitting at their usual table at Kane's, and the place is starting to fill up like it always does on Friday nights. It's nicer than a lot of the local dives, and it's better than going to Denny's with a bunch of middle school kids. Jared worked here last summer, so once in a while Christian will even hook them up with drinks. Only when he's feeling really charitable, but it's better than nothing.
"That's what he said," Jensen replies. "He said he might be a little late, though. Homework stuff, I guess."
"So how's that going? You guys living in domestic bliss yet, or what?"
"Dude, you've got to cut that shit out. Things are weird enough already without you starting a bunch of rumors."
"Well, then, tell me the truth," Jared says, frowning a little. "I know there's more than what you're telling me, man." Jensen sighs.
"Look, I don't know, okay? It's just cool being friends again. Don't ask me about the rest of it, because I have no clue what I'm doing."
"What you're doing about what?" Jensen jumps at Misha's voice, almost right in his ear. He looks wildly toward Jared, who shakes his head minutely. He forces himself to relax as he shifts to the side to let Misha into the booth.
"This whole egg thing," Jared says quickly. "Jensen's worried about getting it into a decent preschool. Apparently that's super important."
Jensen rolls his eyes, because that wasn't exactly convincing, but Misha just shrugs and slides onto the seat next to him. He gives the egg a quick pat and snatches Jensen's menu to look over it. Jensen ignores the knowing look Jared gives him.
"So how's it going, Misha?" Jared asks carefully. "Been a while."
Misha sets the menu down and leans back against the seat.
"Pretty good, just ready to be done with high school. You?"
"Yeah, man. Same." Jensen can't get over how awkward this is, nothing like it used to be. It sucks, honestly. Then Jared opens his mouth again. "I really missed you, Misha. I'm glad you and Jensen worked stuff out."
Jensen can feel his face go bright red, and what the hell is Jared doing? Apparently Misha feels the same way, because his face goes blank and he glances furtively at Jensen.
"I'll be right back," he mutters, and then he's pushing up out of the booth and heading back toward the bathroom.
"What the fuck was that?" Jensen hisses. "Things are finally starting to get less weird, and you have to stick your foot in it?"
"Dude, I am so sorry. I thought you guys had, though! Worked stuff out, I mean."
"Uh, no, Jay. We've been pretending it never happened like our lives depend on it. Jesus, why would you… Okay." He scrambles out of the booth. "Watch Dmitri, I'll be right back."
"Who's Dmitri?" Jared calls after him, but he's already trailing after Misha.
He checks the bathroom first -- empty -- and then heads down the hall to the exit in the back. He bursts outside, and he sees Misha freeze where he had apparently been pacing the parking lot. His expression goes guarded right away, and Jensen could seriously punch Jared right now. Well, no, he couldn't, it's Jared. He's still pissed, though.
"Hey, Mish," he says. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, you can go back in. I just… I needed some air. It's weird being back here."
"Sorry about Jay. Apparently he assumed we'd had some kind of a big talk, cleared the air or whatever. Which obviously isn't the case."
"Is that why you're here? To clear the air? Because I'm honestly not sure there's enough time left in the day." His tone is unexpectedly derisive, and despite himself Jensen feels himself getting angry.
"How about you stop acting like I'm the bad guy here? I didn't do anything wrong, Misha. You're the one who ditched me, not the other way around." Misha whirls around at that, striding over and shoving a finger in his face.
"Maybe," he snarls, "I ditched you because it was a little disappointing to find out that my best friend was a homophobe. Can you really blame me?"
"A… are you fucking kidding me? I take 24 hours to get my head together after you kiss me -- out of nowhere, I might add -- and you act like I punched you in the goddamn face. That's not even close to being fair, Misha."
"Yeah, but…" Misha looks a little unsure. "I know what you said about me. I heard Mara talking about it the next day."
"What?" Things are slowly coming together in Jensen's head. Mara had been Jared's girlfriend back when all this shit happened. They hadn't been together long; she's kind of an awful person, which Jared had just realized a little later than everyone else. But Jensen definitely hadn't talked to her about Misha, or anything, really. "What did she say, Misha?"
"She said…" Misha walks away, clenching his fists before turning back. "She said you were freaked out because some fag tried to get into your pants. That you were disgusted. So I figured I'd save you the trouble and get out first."
"Misha," Jensen breathes. "You have to know I would never say something like that. Even if I weren't interested… shit, we were best friends. How could you think that?"
"I don't know, it's just… they were laughing, you know? Like it was this horrible thing. And you know I don't give a shit what other people think of me, but all I could imagine was you. Laughing at me, I mean, and it really fucking hurt."
"I'm so, so sorry that happened. You know, I called Jared after you left that night. I was a little freaked out, yeah, but not because of any of the reasons you were thinking. He must have let it slip to her, but fuck that, Misha. Jared doesn't think like that, and neither do I. You know that."
"Yeah," Misha says, a little shaky. "But then you never tried to talk to me afterwards, so I just thought… I don't know. I was stupid."
"You really were," Jensen agrees, and he takes a step forward into Misha's space. Misha sucks in a quick breath, but he doesn't move away. "We both were," he murmurs, and then he slowly closes the distance between them to kiss Misha, cupping the side of his neck. He's careful, like he thinks Misha might spook, but he shouldn't have worried.
Misha lets out a rough sound and shoves him backward. Jensen has enough time to register the feel of brick against his back before Misha is on him again, pressing the full length of their bodies together and pushing his mouth back against Jensen's. Misha licks at his bottom lip, and Jensen can't hold back his groan.
"Could we have seriously been doing this since last year?" Misha asks, nipping along the bolt of Jensen's jaw. "And we've been fighting instead?"
"I just, ah, I thought you were fickle," Jensen gasps, and Misha lets out a surprised laugh that's like a weight off Jensen's chest after all this time.
"I'll show you fickle," Misha says through his laughter, reaching down to grip Jensen's ass through his jeans.
"That makes no sense, you asshole." Jensen's grinning against the skin of Misha's neck. "But we probably better get back inside. Jared probably thinks something terrible happened."
"Fine," Misha agrees with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "But we're not done."
"No," Jensen says. "Definitely not done." He opens the back door to let Misha back inside before following him through.
"Hey, did you leave Dmitri with Jared?" Misha sounds alarmed. "That guy could kill a cactus."
He's got a point. They walk a little bit faster.
---
As it turns out, Dmitri was fine. Jared had seemed awfully pleased with himself, but things had worked out okay. More than okay, really, so Jensen couldn't bring himself to be mad over Jared's meddling.
The rest of the weekend had been kind of anticlimactic. Friday night got cut short by Jensen's curfew. Saturday dragged, with Misha stuck in rehearsal all day. There had been some making out on Jensen's couch on Sunday, but they kept it to a minimum.
"It's weird, Mish," Jensen had protested. "Dmitri's just staring at us."
Jensen's mom had come home while they were curled up together in front of a Doctor Who rerun. He'd tensed up for half a second, but she'd just rolled her eyes affectionately and flapped a dismissive hand at them. Not that he expected anything less from her, but it was still a relief.
It's weird that it could be so easy after all this time, but Jensen's not planning to look this gift horse in the mouth.
---
"Is this really a good idea, Misha?"
"Do you have a better one? I'm pretty sure he's rotten, so we can't eat him. Throwing him away seems disrespectful. This is the most obvious course of action."
They'd gotten an A on their assignment, thanks mostly to Misha's series of pictures of them spending quality time with the egg. Mrs. Monroe had seemed more than a little suspicious of the sudden turnaround in the two of them, but the egg was in one piece and their teamwork was documented. There wasn't much else she could do.
So now they're huddled on the bank of the pond a few miles from Jensen's house, and Misha's settling the egg onto a little makeshift wooden raft. It's piled high with dry straw, and Jensen never though he'd be helping build a funeral pyre for a rotten egg.
He gets the feeling that being with Misha is going to mean a lot of new, weird things, and he's more than okay with that. Besides, the little guy deserves a proper send-off.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Misha asks, holding out a book of matches. Jensen smiles and takes them, crouching down next to the water. He strikes a match, lets it burn for a few seconds, and then drops it onto the straw. The whole thing goes up right away, and he jerks back in surprise.
"I told you that was too much lighter fluid, Collins," he grumbles.
"No such thing," Misha murmurs, taking a short stick and giving the pyre a nudge out into the water. He sits down on the bank, and Jensen settles in at his side. "You should say something, Jen."
"Oh, right. Uh, thanks Dmitri, for being such a well-behaved egg." Misha snorts, and Jensen watches the tiny flaming raft drift further away until he can barely make out the egg at all. "And thanks for helping me and Misha get our shit together. It was like The Parent Trap, only with Jared and an egg instead of twins."
"Oh my god, you're never allowed to give a eulogy ever again," Misha groans, burying his face in Jensen's shoulder to hide his laughter.
"Okay, next time we have a Viking funeral for a rotten egg, it's all yours." Jensen shifts around until he can get his arm around Misha's shoulders. The last of the twilight is almost gone, and the view is surreal and beautiful.
"I plan to have a lot more Viking egg funerals with you," Misha murmurs. Jensen wants to laugh but holds it in, because he gets what Misha's saying in his own weird, occasionally incomprehensible way.
"Yeah, Mish," he agrees quietly. "Lots." When Misha tilts his head back to smile at him, there's nothing left to do but kiss him. They stay by the pond until the last bit of flame flickers out on the pyre, and then for a few minutes after that.
Author: discreetmath
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Warnings: Brief mention of homophobia.
Word Count: 5500
Summary: Jensen doesn't think anything could be worse than having to play father to an egg for his Home Ec class. Then he gets partnered with Misha, and whether that's better or worse remains to be seen.
A/N: Written for this prompt on deancaskink.
Disclaimer: These people do not belong to me, and this is all fiction.
Crossposted to AO3.
Jensen stares at the egg, tucked into its little holder on the desk in front of him. It's staring back at him, all full of needs and expectations and, well, yolk. Probably. He drops his head into his hands and groans; he really doesn't have time for this shit, not in the spring of his senior year when he's more worried about getting ready for college than learning how to take care of the world's least convincing approximation of a baby.
"Something wrong, Jensen?"
He jerks his head up and tries to plaster on a charming smile for Mrs. Monroe, the Home Ec teacher, but she just levels an unimpressed look at him.
"I'm sure Jensen's just upset," comes a voice from behind him. "Seeing your offspring take on your unfortunate head shape has got to be a trying thing for a parent to experience."
There's a smattering of laughter around the room. Jensen just shuts his eyes and counts to ten, because no way is he getting in trouble for punching Misha Collins in his stupid smug face.
"Okay, children, moving right along," Mrs. Monroe says brightly, "I know in past years, other teachers have done this section differently. Either they pair off a boy and a girl to be parents, or they just have the girls take care of eggs while the boys learn a more gender-appropriate skill. Frankly, I think that's stupid, so we're doing this my way."
Nobody's really surprised; their eggs had been at their desks when they sat down, one for everybody. Apparently she thinks that being a single parent will be more of a challenge, and it will keep people from pawning off their eggs onto a partner. Since it's just Jensen and his mom, he knows that the first part is true, although he's not exactly comparing this project to the crap his mom's had to deal with over the last thirteen years.
She's just wrapping up the guidelines for the assignment when the bell rings: personalizing the egg is okay, within reason, and breaking, losing, or eating the egg is grounds for failure, at her discretion. Jensen pushes his chair back when she's done, scooping up his books and contemplating his egg. He's going to need to get some kind of better container for this thing, because he has no plans of screwing up his GPA over Home Ec, of all things.
He's trying to think of the best way to get it safely to his chemistry lab when he feels someone shove past him, knocking his books to the floor. Of course, he thinks.
"What the hell, Misha?" he bursts out. Misha ignores him, which just pisses him off even more. Without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the other boy's shoulder, dragging him back to demand an explanation. As Misha turns, his stack of books shifts, and the egg perched on top wobbles dangerously.
It's like it's happening in slow motion; they both watch Misha's egg tumble out of the box, and it's splattering against the tile before they can even think to react. Jensen stares at the deep orange puddle of yolk for a long moment before he glances up and sees the murderous look on Misha's face.
"Oh, shit, man," Jensen says quickly. "I swear I wasn't trying to do that. I'm so sorry."
"Right," Misha grits out, "I bet you fucking are. Don't waste my time acting like you give a shit, Ackles. Just help me get another egg, because if I fail this class, it's going to be your fault. And I hold a grudge."
"You don't say," Jensen mutters irritably, but he ignores the sharp look Misha fixes on him and turns a contrite look on Mrs. Monroe, who already looks exasperated with them. "I'm really sorry, but I bumped into Misha and busted his egg. It was totally my fault, and we're not even out of the classroom yet, so can he just get another one?"
"Listen, boys," she says, her eyes soft. "I really wish I could do that, but there are exactly twenty-four students in this class. Two dozen! Do you know the chances of that? Unfortunately, that means I don't have any spares."
"Are… are you serious?" Misha asks incredulously. "If that's the issue, I can buy another egg. It's not a problem, it really isn't."
"If only it were that simple," she says, voice loaded with false sincerity, "but I can't allow a non-regulation egg to be a part of this assignment. Not even after yours suffered such a tragic, completely accidental demise," she adds with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look to Jensen.
Jensen can't believe this. She's obviously just fucking with them at this point.
"So what can he do?" he asks, trying to swallow down his frustration.
"Well…" she taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I could make an exception in this case. Instead of a single parent, Jensen's egg will just have two dads. I suggest you take care of it together, and don't break this one," she says as students start filtering in for the next class.
"Wait, what?" Jensen just gapes at her. "No way, I'm not sharing mine." The look she gives him makes him shut his mouth in a hurry.
"Either you do, or I fail you both for reckless endangerment of a pseudo-child. Involuntary eggslaughter. I don't know, I'll come up with something. Now, I suggest you work this out between the two of you, and then get to class. I'm not writing any passes."
Jensen just nods, grabbing his stuff and following Misha out into the hall.
"Dude, that was ridiculous," he says once they get out of the classroom. "She was just making that up as she went along."
"I don't think you're really in a position to complain," Misha says icily. "This is your fault, remember? I have gym next, so you'll have to keep the egg until the end of the day, and for the love of God, don't break this one. I'll meet you at your locker after last period."
Then he's gone, and Jensen just dumbly watches him walk away until he realizes his eyes have landed on Misha's ass. It's not exactly his fault -- the guy is wearing a snug pair of jeans and a well-cut waistcoat -- but he makes a frustrated noise and turns his attention back to the egg. It looks like it's judging him.
The bell rings, and he realizes with a start that he's the only one in the hallway. He takes a second to make sure he's got a solid grip on his egg, and then he rushes off to his next class.
---
"Whoa, dude, seriously? Misha Collins? You must have punched a baby seal or something if you're getting this kind of karmic retribution."
Jensen scowls as he disconnects the Bunsen burner and takes it to the cabinet. He's been waiting all period to tell Jared what happened, but now he's just getting pissed off all over again.
"It was an accident, okay? Not my fault."
"An accident?" Jared frowns at him skeptically. "How do you accidentally punch a baby seal?"
"Oh, fuck you," Jensen mutters, but he can feel a smile forcing its way onto his face. "You know what I meant."
"Well, look on the bright side," Jared says. "Today's Wednesday, and you only have to keep the thing in one piece until Monday afternoon. I'd be happy to egg-sit, too, if you and Misha need some alone time. You know, to rekindle your romance and stuff," he adds in a stage whisper.
"What?" Jensen flushes. "The last thing I need is alone time with Misha, believe me." He ignores the knowing look Jared gives him at that, and he goes to grab his stuff. "I'll call you later, let you know how it goes," he says, heading for the door.
"Wait, Jen!" Jared calls out as Jensen leaves the room. "Which one of you is going to be Daddy? I think you'd make a good Papa, honestly."
If he had a free hand, he'd be giving Jared the middle finger, but as it is, he just rolls his eyes and heads to his locker to deal with Misha.
---
"So I figure we can work out a joint custody thing, right? I'll keep it today, and you'll take it tomorrow, and we'll just alternate until Monday." They're sitting on the steps in front of the high school, and Jensen's eager to get home.
"Him," Misha says absently, digging through his messenger bag.
"What?"
"I'm just saying, I'd prefer it if you wouldn't refer to our son as 'it.' It's going to give him a complex," he says seriously, fishing out his phone.
"Son? I bet you named him, too. Like, Egglebert or something, didn't you?" Misha gives him a withering look.
"I'm not looking to make his life hell, Jensen, and I wouldn't have named him without asking you. That's not exactly equitable parenting."
"Oh. Well, whatever, not like I care what we name the thing. So are you cool with taking turns, or what?"
"Honestly? Not really. Mrs. Monroe isn't likely to give us points for giving him an unstable home life." Misha drags a hand through his hair and sighs. "I think we're going to have to work together, not that I like it any more than you."
"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about," Jensen protests, "I've got no problem with you."
"Right," Misha says with a harsh laugh. "Of course you don't. Anyway, I've got drama club rehearsal tonight, but give me your number and I'll call you after so we can work out a plan."
Jensen does, a little bit stunned, and then stands there feeling confused while Misha jogs back up the steps and into the school.
"Looks like it's just you and me, eggy." He curls the box in tight to his chest and sets off for home.
---
"I don't know why he wants to do it together, Jay. The guy hates me, and hell if I know why." Jensen tucks a little bit more foam padding into the box on his lap, because there's no way this egg is getting broken. The cardboard is sturdier than the cut-up egg crate he had to begin with, so hopefully it will hold up.
"Maybe because you brutally rejected him junior year? Is that ringing any bells?"
"Um, okay, I didn't reject him. All I did was take some time to think about it, and two days later he's acting like I have the plague."
"Maybe you were just a really bad kisser?" Jared suggests, and Jensen yanks the phone away from his ear to glare at it.
"Fuck you," he says easily, tucking the phone back into the crook of his shoulder. "Of course it was bad, the guy jumped on me out of nowhere. I didn't have my A game ready." He scowls when he hears Jared's laughter booming over the line.
"Anyway, all I'm saying is try to make the best of it. I know you've been pining."
"I have not been pining," Jensen starts, but then he hears his phone beep. He glances at the screen and curses softly. "I've gotta go, man. I'll see you in the morning."
"Hey, tell Mish I said hi!" Jared says excitedly. "Maybe he can come out with us on Friday."
Jensen switches over to the other call before he can hear the rest of that brilliant idea.
"Hey, Misha," he says as pleasantly as he can manage. "How's it going?"
"Um, it's fine," Misha responds. "How's Dmitri?"
"Dmitri?" Jensen laughs. "Seriously, that's what you're going with?"
"Hey, I didn't pick it," Misha says defensively. "The universe bestows this information upon me; it's just my job to pass it along. Besides, you said you didn't care."
"Uh-huh, right, man. Anyway, Dmitri is fine. I upgraded his box to something a little sturdier and added some padding."
"Oh." Misha sounds surprised, like he expected Jensen to have already cooked and eaten the stupid thing. "Thanks, I was thinking about doing the same thing."
"Yeah, no problem," Jensen mumbles. He's trying to wrap his head around the idea that they're having a civil conversation for the first time in more than a year. "So, what's the plan?"
"Well, I can definitely take him in the mornings. I figure we can sit together in Home Ec and then switch out afterwards since I have gym in the afternoon." He pauses. "I have rehearsal on Saturday morning, but other than that we should probably spend some time together outside of school. In case Mrs. Monroe asks," he adds quickly.
"Okay, that's probably smart. Do you want to come by here tomorrow after school? I'm sure I have some age-appropriate movies for the egg." Really, Jensen, you can stop talking whenever.
"Yeah, all right," Misha says, but he sounds kind of subdued. Jensen should have known this wouldn't go well.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Sure. Tell Dmitri good night for me."
Jensen laughs, and he's just about to make a joke when he realizes Misha already hung up. Well, fine then.
---
The next day goes by unbelievably quickly, probably because Jensen's trying to put off this joint-parenting thing as long as possible. He and Misha barely speak in Home Ec, and the prospect of bringing that awkwardness home is less than appealing.
Jared's no help, either. He seems to be listening more or less sympathetically, but his solution to all of Jensen's problems can pretty much be summed up as "just get on that already." Which, no. Not helping at all. Jensen figures it must suck for him; Jared and Misha had been friends, too, back before all of the weird shit happened, but Misha had snubbed them both.
Anyway, now Jensen's pacing in his entryway, waiting for Misha to show up. The last time he was at Jensen's house, he'd attacked him on the couch, so there's no telling how uncomfortable this is going to be. Finally, though, the doorbell rings, and he counts to ten before yanking it open.
He freezes for a second when he sees Misha, who's standing there holding a worn-out canvas bag. If he imagines hard enough, it could almost be a year ago and this could be a normal day, like they used to have.
"Um, I brought root beer. And salt and vinegar chips. Hopefully you still like that stuff," he says before trailing off. He raises one eyebrow, and Jensen flushes when he realizes he's just been standing in the doorway gaping.
"Sorry, man, come in. Of course I still like it. You get A&W?"
Misha just rolls his eyes and pushes past him into the house. Jensen snags the root beer out of his bag and takes it to the kitchen to get ice and glasses.
"So what are we watching?" Misha calls from the other room, and Jensen hears the bag of chips tear open.
"Um," he clears his throat and grabs the glasses, heading back into the living room. "I put Serenity in, but we can watch something else if you want."
"Serenity?" Misha laughs. "That's your idea of age-appropriate?" He gestures toward where the egg is sitting on the coffee table.
"Why not?" Jensen asks indignantly. "They don't even use real curse words."
"What about the Reavers?" Misha asks skeptically. "He might have nightmares."
"Hey, he's a big egg. Like, grade-A jumbo or something. He can handle it."
Jensen wants to pretend that it doesn't make something flip in his stomach when Misha laughs at that stupid joke, but his abilities to live in denial isn't quite that advanced. He sets the drinks on the table and flops down onto the couch next to Misha, grabbing the remote and pressing play.
He spends the first thirty minutes of the movie trying to ignore the fact that Misha's there, and then he finally gives up. Instead, he focuses on pretending not to be overly aware of Misha -- pretending his breath isn't catching every time he reaches for the chips and brushes Jensen's arm. Misha either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it, and he's grateful for that small favor.
Eventually, the movie drags him in, and before he knows it he's trying not to cry at the ending. He hears Misha sniffle, and shoots him a quick smile, but Misha just scowls in return.
All in all, it's not a bad way to spend an afternoon. Once the movie's over, they put their dishes in the kitchen and wander back into the living room. He's not sure what he should be doing, but Misha leans over the back of the couch and grabs the egg off the table with his thumb and forefinger.
"Shit, be careful," Jensen says, anxious at the careless way he's handling it.
"Stop being such a worrier. A child can't grow and thrive in a stifling, overprotective environment." He fishes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the egg toward Jensen. "Hold that up for me?"
Jensen does, even though he's kind of confused, and the next thing he knows, Misha is slipping an arm around his waist and using the other to hold the phone up in front of them.
"Say 'frittata,'" he says brightly, and then he's snapping a picture. Jensen knows he's got a lost expression, but Misha drops his arm and tucks the phone back into his pocket before he can see the photo. "I thought Mrs. Monroe might want proof. Better to cover all of our bases, you know?"
"Yeah," Jensen says dumbly. "Good call."
"All right. I'm headed home, and I'll take Dmitri, if that's cool with you. Since I get him in the morning anyway."
"Sure, sounds good."
Misha's got his bag and the egg, and he's just tugging the door open when Jensen gets his brain running again.
"Hey, Mish?"
Misha turns around, looking a little surprised.
"Yeah?"
"Jared wanted to know if you'll come out to Kane's tomorrow night. I know it's been a while, but you should come with us." He waits for a minute, fidgeting when Misha just stares at him. Finally, Misha smiles. It's barely even there, but Jensen lets out a silent sigh of relief.
"Yeah, Jen. I'll be there." Then he's leaving, pulling the door shut behind him, and Jensen collapses onto the couch with a groan. This is really not how he expected his week to go.
---
Friday morning seems to drag on, and Jensen is starting to think it's because he's actually looking forward to seeing Misha. Which is obviously ridiculous, because all the shit between them? It's not like it can just go away.
But then he walks into Home Ec, and when Misha catches sight of him he grins. It's so sudden and wide that Jensen nearly stumbles. He hasn't seen that smile in so long, the gummy one where Misha's eyes crinkle up, and he didn't realize just how much he missed it until right now. He makes it to their table on autopilot, setting his books down and dropping onto the chair.
"Misha," he says with a nod. He leans in toward where the egg is sitting on the next to Misha's books. "Dmitri," he says, quieter, and Misha chuckles.
"You know, I'm starting to worry about the fact that he doesn't have any hair yet," Misha says, petting the top of the egg. "The Collins men have always had thick, lustrous hair, so if you've got some kind of recessive gene, now is the time to tell me."
"Hopefully he has some of my hair-related genes. I remember last winter you decided to stop shaving, and you had a full beard in like, a week."
"That beard looked amazing!" Misha protests, indignant.
"You looked like a hobo," Jensen corrects, "and it was winter, so you were always bundled up like one. If you can tell me that nobody stuck any spare change in your coffee cup, I'll let it drop."
Misha just grumbles something unflattering about Jensen and places both hands over the egg.
"Sorry, little guy. You shouldn't have to hear this kind of verbal abuse from your parents." He's still smiling, but Jensen's suddenly worried that they aren't quite up to this level of ribbing just yet. It's just too easy to fall back into this routine.
"You know I'm kidding, though. That was an awesome beard. It made you look mysterious, like some pot-smoking drifter," he says, laughing when Misha drags a hand over his jaw thoughtfully.
"Maybe I'll bring it back next winter," he says. "Make some extra money panhandling to pay for my student loans."
"Oh yeah," Jensen says "You got into Northwestern, right?"
"Yeah," Misha confirms, giving him a strange look. He's acting like it's weird that Jensen has been keeping tabs on Misha through their moms, which it probably is, but whatever.
"Me too," he tells him, but then Mrs. Monroe is starting class, and he just gets a quick smile before he settles in for a dull class.
---
"So, he's really coming?" Jared asks, raising his voice a little so Jensen can hear him.
Jensen and Jared, plus one egg, are sitting at their usual table at Kane's, and the place is starting to fill up like it always does on Friday nights. It's nicer than a lot of the local dives, and it's better than going to Denny's with a bunch of middle school kids. Jared worked here last summer, so once in a while Christian will even hook them up with drinks. Only when he's feeling really charitable, but it's better than nothing.
"That's what he said," Jensen replies. "He said he might be a little late, though. Homework stuff, I guess."
"So how's that going? You guys living in domestic bliss yet, or what?"
"Dude, you've got to cut that shit out. Things are weird enough already without you starting a bunch of rumors."
"Well, then, tell me the truth," Jared says, frowning a little. "I know there's more than what you're telling me, man." Jensen sighs.
"Look, I don't know, okay? It's just cool being friends again. Don't ask me about the rest of it, because I have no clue what I'm doing."
"What you're doing about what?" Jensen jumps at Misha's voice, almost right in his ear. He looks wildly toward Jared, who shakes his head minutely. He forces himself to relax as he shifts to the side to let Misha into the booth.
"This whole egg thing," Jared says quickly. "Jensen's worried about getting it into a decent preschool. Apparently that's super important."
Jensen rolls his eyes, because that wasn't exactly convincing, but Misha just shrugs and slides onto the seat next to him. He gives the egg a quick pat and snatches Jensen's menu to look over it. Jensen ignores the knowing look Jared gives him.
"So how's it going, Misha?" Jared asks carefully. "Been a while."
Misha sets the menu down and leans back against the seat.
"Pretty good, just ready to be done with high school. You?"
"Yeah, man. Same." Jensen can't get over how awkward this is, nothing like it used to be. It sucks, honestly. Then Jared opens his mouth again. "I really missed you, Misha. I'm glad you and Jensen worked stuff out."
Jensen can feel his face go bright red, and what the hell is Jared doing? Apparently Misha feels the same way, because his face goes blank and he glances furtively at Jensen.
"I'll be right back," he mutters, and then he's pushing up out of the booth and heading back toward the bathroom.
"What the fuck was that?" Jensen hisses. "Things are finally starting to get less weird, and you have to stick your foot in it?"
"Dude, I am so sorry. I thought you guys had, though! Worked stuff out, I mean."
"Uh, no, Jay. We've been pretending it never happened like our lives depend on it. Jesus, why would you… Okay." He scrambles out of the booth. "Watch Dmitri, I'll be right back."
"Who's Dmitri?" Jared calls after him, but he's already trailing after Misha.
He checks the bathroom first -- empty -- and then heads down the hall to the exit in the back. He bursts outside, and he sees Misha freeze where he had apparently been pacing the parking lot. His expression goes guarded right away, and Jensen could seriously punch Jared right now. Well, no, he couldn't, it's Jared. He's still pissed, though.
"Hey, Mish," he says. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, you can go back in. I just… I needed some air. It's weird being back here."
"Sorry about Jay. Apparently he assumed we'd had some kind of a big talk, cleared the air or whatever. Which obviously isn't the case."
"Is that why you're here? To clear the air? Because I'm honestly not sure there's enough time left in the day." His tone is unexpectedly derisive, and despite himself Jensen feels himself getting angry.
"How about you stop acting like I'm the bad guy here? I didn't do anything wrong, Misha. You're the one who ditched me, not the other way around." Misha whirls around at that, striding over and shoving a finger in his face.
"Maybe," he snarls, "I ditched you because it was a little disappointing to find out that my best friend was a homophobe. Can you really blame me?"
"A… are you fucking kidding me? I take 24 hours to get my head together after you kiss me -- out of nowhere, I might add -- and you act like I punched you in the goddamn face. That's not even close to being fair, Misha."
"Yeah, but…" Misha looks a little unsure. "I know what you said about me. I heard Mara talking about it the next day."
"What?" Things are slowly coming together in Jensen's head. Mara had been Jared's girlfriend back when all this shit happened. They hadn't been together long; she's kind of an awful person, which Jared had just realized a little later than everyone else. But Jensen definitely hadn't talked to her about Misha, or anything, really. "What did she say, Misha?"
"She said…" Misha walks away, clenching his fists before turning back. "She said you were freaked out because some fag tried to get into your pants. That you were disgusted. So I figured I'd save you the trouble and get out first."
"Misha," Jensen breathes. "You have to know I would never say something like that. Even if I weren't interested… shit, we were best friends. How could you think that?"
"I don't know, it's just… they were laughing, you know? Like it was this horrible thing. And you know I don't give a shit what other people think of me, but all I could imagine was you. Laughing at me, I mean, and it really fucking hurt."
"I'm so, so sorry that happened. You know, I called Jared after you left that night. I was a little freaked out, yeah, but not because of any of the reasons you were thinking. He must have let it slip to her, but fuck that, Misha. Jared doesn't think like that, and neither do I. You know that."
"Yeah," Misha says, a little shaky. "But then you never tried to talk to me afterwards, so I just thought… I don't know. I was stupid."
"You really were," Jensen agrees, and he takes a step forward into Misha's space. Misha sucks in a quick breath, but he doesn't move away. "We both were," he murmurs, and then he slowly closes the distance between them to kiss Misha, cupping the side of his neck. He's careful, like he thinks Misha might spook, but he shouldn't have worried.
Misha lets out a rough sound and shoves him backward. Jensen has enough time to register the feel of brick against his back before Misha is on him again, pressing the full length of their bodies together and pushing his mouth back against Jensen's. Misha licks at his bottom lip, and Jensen can't hold back his groan.
"Could we have seriously been doing this since last year?" Misha asks, nipping along the bolt of Jensen's jaw. "And we've been fighting instead?"
"I just, ah, I thought you were fickle," Jensen gasps, and Misha lets out a surprised laugh that's like a weight off Jensen's chest after all this time.
"I'll show you fickle," Misha says through his laughter, reaching down to grip Jensen's ass through his jeans.
"That makes no sense, you asshole." Jensen's grinning against the skin of Misha's neck. "But we probably better get back inside. Jared probably thinks something terrible happened."
"Fine," Misha agrees with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "But we're not done."
"No," Jensen says. "Definitely not done." He opens the back door to let Misha back inside before following him through.
"Hey, did you leave Dmitri with Jared?" Misha sounds alarmed. "That guy could kill a cactus."
He's got a point. They walk a little bit faster.
---
As it turns out, Dmitri was fine. Jared had seemed awfully pleased with himself, but things had worked out okay. More than okay, really, so Jensen couldn't bring himself to be mad over Jared's meddling.
The rest of the weekend had been kind of anticlimactic. Friday night got cut short by Jensen's curfew. Saturday dragged, with Misha stuck in rehearsal all day. There had been some making out on Jensen's couch on Sunday, but they kept it to a minimum.
"It's weird, Mish," Jensen had protested. "Dmitri's just staring at us."
Jensen's mom had come home while they were curled up together in front of a Doctor Who rerun. He'd tensed up for half a second, but she'd just rolled her eyes affectionately and flapped a dismissive hand at them. Not that he expected anything less from her, but it was still a relief.
It's weird that it could be so easy after all this time, but Jensen's not planning to look this gift horse in the mouth.
---
"Is this really a good idea, Misha?"
"Do you have a better one? I'm pretty sure he's rotten, so we can't eat him. Throwing him away seems disrespectful. This is the most obvious course of action."
They'd gotten an A on their assignment, thanks mostly to Misha's series of pictures of them spending quality time with the egg. Mrs. Monroe had seemed more than a little suspicious of the sudden turnaround in the two of them, but the egg was in one piece and their teamwork was documented. There wasn't much else she could do.
So now they're huddled on the bank of the pond a few miles from Jensen's house, and Misha's settling the egg onto a little makeshift wooden raft. It's piled high with dry straw, and Jensen never though he'd be helping build a funeral pyre for a rotten egg.
He gets the feeling that being with Misha is going to mean a lot of new, weird things, and he's more than okay with that. Besides, the little guy deserves a proper send-off.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Misha asks, holding out a book of matches. Jensen smiles and takes them, crouching down next to the water. He strikes a match, lets it burn for a few seconds, and then drops it onto the straw. The whole thing goes up right away, and he jerks back in surprise.
"I told you that was too much lighter fluid, Collins," he grumbles.
"No such thing," Misha murmurs, taking a short stick and giving the pyre a nudge out into the water. He sits down on the bank, and Jensen settles in at his side. "You should say something, Jen."
"Oh, right. Uh, thanks Dmitri, for being such a well-behaved egg." Misha snorts, and Jensen watches the tiny flaming raft drift further away until he can barely make out the egg at all. "And thanks for helping me and Misha get our shit together. It was like The Parent Trap, only with Jared and an egg instead of twins."
"Oh my god, you're never allowed to give a eulogy ever again," Misha groans, burying his face in Jensen's shoulder to hide his laughter.
"Okay, next time we have a Viking funeral for a rotten egg, it's all yours." Jensen shifts around until he can get his arm around Misha's shoulders. The last of the twilight is almost gone, and the view is surreal and beautiful.
"I plan to have a lot more Viking egg funerals with you," Misha murmurs. Jensen wants to laugh but holds it in, because he gets what Misha's saying in his own weird, occasionally incomprehensible way.
"Yeah, Mish," he agrees quietly. "Lots." When Misha tilts his head back to smile at him, there's nothing left to do but kiss him. They stay by the pond until the last bit of flame flickers out on the pyre, and then for a few minutes after that.