How Fucked Are You Now? (Misha/Jensen)
Title: How Fucked Are You Now?
Verse: SPN RPS.
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins; mentions of Supernatural cast and crew.
Warnings/Enticements: Pre-slash. (Jesus, she wrote another one?) Language.
Summary: Misha surprises Jensen. And what a huge fucking surprise it is.
Wordcount: 972
Disclaimer: I sit on a throne of lies. I won't even try to claim that I got their real personalities down.
“So, since Cas is gonna learn to kiss this episode, d’you think he’ll take to the ladies as easily as Dean?” Misha is asking, and for a second Jensen’s a little taken aback, because they hadn’t even been talking about work. But he just rolls with it, because that’s Misha; the man is an expert at summoning shit from out of nowhere.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Jensen teases, and Misha grins. “He’ll be right up there pickin’ up chicks with Bobby.” At the image, Jensen doesn’t quite manage to hold back a laugh.
“Hey,” Misha mock-chides, wagging a finger at him. “Just because he showed up as a prude doesn’t mean he’ll stay one.”
Jensen is amused. “You kidding? The guy’s so tame he probably embarrasses mice.”
“Like I said, that might change.” The glint that suddenly materializes in Misha’s eyes gives Jensen pause. It’s the look that Misha gets when he’s got some sort of surprise up his sleeve, and on this set, surprises usually bode ill for Jensen.
The Texan eyes Misha suspiciously. “Whatever you say, Collins.”
Taking in the wariness emanating from his friend, now it’s Misha’s turn to laugh.
They’re filming the episode where Crowley goes down (Jensen has really got to get better at episode titles) and Jensen is having a pretty good day. They’re all pretty well off, actually. Rachel Miner is hitting the nail on the head as Meg-the perfect current of lascivious melded with downright creepy. He hopes the writers bring her back again, even if that means they’ll probably have to kill her. Jared and Misha are great too, but then, that’s not even worth batting an eyelash at.
All around, shooting is going fine.
So of course something has to happen to fuck it all up.
The group-Dean, Sam, Meg and Cas-has just discovered that the hellhounds are coming for them. Dean immediately gets tense, and why shouldn’t he, considering his last experience with the damn things? But then Meg’s volunteering to hold them off, and Dean doesn’t care about whether or not she’s successful, he just wants to get his brother and himself the hell out of there.
Dean’s in the middle of speaking when Meg kisses Castiel, plants one on him like the sneaky little thing she is. They’re right in the boy’s line of sight-Jensen can see their mouths from this angle, and it makes his stomach flip a little to watch, even if it’s brief. He imagines that Misha’s lips are probably dry, just like they usually are whenever he’s on set. Dean’s really got to teach Cas about the merits of lip balm.
Meg pulls back, and Castiel stares at her for just the barest of moments. Now he’s supposed to snatch Meg up, show her what kisses are really made of, but all of a sudden he turns his head, and his eyes are trained on-Dean?
Misha’s gaze halts on Jensen, and then suddenly he’s stepping away from Rachel and heading straight for him.
Collins is on him before Jensen can even register what’s happening, and then those dry lips are on his, chapped just like he’d imagined, but also with a certain softness to them. Jensen closes his eyes reflexively, hands coming to fist in the fabric of Castiel’s trench, and that’s when he remembers they’re shooting and holy shit, what the fuck is Misha doing?
He pushes the other man off of him, only to see that Misha has totally kept his cool, and is still completely in character.
Well, as in character as a suddenly-turned-gay angel could possibly be.
“I learned that from the pizza man,” he says smoothly, and aside from the line being said to the wrong fucking person, the delivery is perfect.
Jensen wants to punch Misha in the face.
The crew erupts into laughter; Jensen is mortified. He feels heat suddenly rushing to his face, and begins clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again, not knowing how to react. After an unbearably long moment the commotion dies down, and they get back to work.
Or at least, they attempt to. Misha’s got his poker face sealed tight, but Rachel and Jared can’t stop shooting smirks at Jensen. Rachel’s just barely getting away with it, because it’s Meg, but Jared’s just not, and they keep having to do the starting lines of the scene over and over again. Jensen would tell Jared to get his shit together, but he’s dropping the ball, too-his eyes keep flickering over to Misha when he’s supposed to be focused on Rachel, lines stammered or even outright dropped when he sees those clear blue eyes looking back.
When Misha and Rachel finally make it to their kiss again, the real kiss, it goes without a hitch, but Jensen finds himself ridiculously glad he doesn’t have a line in the middle of it, because he can hardly breathe, let alone speak. He shouldn’t find this hot-there are crew members everywhere, and Jesus Christ, it’s Misha-but he does, and there’s heat flaring through him that wasn’t there last time. His stomach nose dives, and he notices for the first time that his hands are sweaty.
He doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him.
Shooting is grueling from there on out, but somehow, Jensen manages to pull through. When he gets back to his trailer later, he’s exhausted, ready to fall face down onto the first soft surface available when he gets home and hopefully forget this day ever happened.
A knock on the door comes just as he’s grabbing the hem of Dean’s shirt, preparing to pull it off. “I’m not here,” he calls, unsurprised when the door opens anyway. It’s probably Sasquatch, come to be even smirkier than he was before. “What the hell, Jared.”
It's not.