Fic: Add a Hundred More, SPN RPS, Jensen/Misha
Title: Add a Hundred More
Author: Claire
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,688
Summary: The first time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it's a mistake...
Notes: Written for the Time: Twentieth square of kissbingo. Many thanks to oddlyfamiliar and to A for checking this over. And also thanks to oddlyfamiliar for giving me the quote the title comes from, which is Robert Herrick's Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
Add a Hundred More
The first time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it's a mistake. They've been on set for nearly twenty hours due to a camera fault that means they've lost four hours of filming time. Jared's already gone home, so it's just the two of them left with one more scene to do. One more scene where Dean leans forward, lips close to Castiel's ear as he speaks. But Jensen leans a little too far forward and Misha turns at just the wrong time which means that Jensen's lips are against Misha's cheek, his skin smooth and tasting faintly of the light foundation Carly had applied that morning in make-up.
Jensen pulls back, apology already falling from his mouth, but Misha just waves him off with a comment about at least buying him dinner first.
They start the scene from the beginning, managing to run through it perfectly this time. And Jensen's not sure if he's imagining it, but he thinks Misha's gaze lingers a little too long on his lips when they finally leave the studio and say goodnight.
The second time Jensen kisses Misha, it's technically Misha kissing him. Well, actually, it's technically Castiel kissing Dean, a soft caress of lips across Dean's forehead when he's asleep that's careful and precise. A touch that barely brushes Jensen's skin, but is enough to make his eyes jerk open as he looks at Misha in surprise because he's pretty sure that's not in the goddamn script.
The third time is Sera's fault, because they have to re-shoot the scene. What she tells Jensen is to make sure his eyes stay closed this time. What she tells Misha, however, is to keep the kiss in.
The fourth time it happens, they're in Rome and on stage and surrounded by about 900 people. Jared's just answered a question about how he'd like Sam's story to end, speaking about redemption and hope. He also mentions something about a hundred virgins that's met with an indignantly amused Hey! from the side of the stage Genevieve's standing at.
The MC calls for one last question and Jensen thinks they've avoided it but then the microphone is handed to a petite redhead who asks Misha why he thinks Castiel kissed Dean and what it meant.
Misha just grins as he glances at Jensen before fixing his focus back on the woman who asked the question. Jensen doesn't know what Misha's going to say; doesn't know because he's never actually asked why Castiel kissed Dean, never asked why Misha did it.
"I think it just means that Castiel wanted to kiss Dean," Misha says, grinning. "After all, have you looked at Jensen, recently? Who wouldn't want to kiss him?" And then Misha leans over, exaggerated smirk on his lips as he kisses Jensen's cheek, before Jensen pushes him away and a sea of camera flashes almost blinds him.
The fifth time, they're still in Rome. Payback for the panel, Jared had said. It'll be awesome, Jared had said. So they grab Misha during the closing ceremony, their hands wrapping around Misha's arms as the two of them plant a kiss on each cheek, loud and noisy and exaggerated, and not caring about the cameras going off. There's video on YouTube within the hour.
The sixth (and seventh) time they kiss it's Misha's birthday and he's not entirely sober. Jensen's just arrived with Jared and Genevieve and Misha's heading straight towards them as soon as they step into the bar the party appears to have taken over. Misha grabs Jared first, dragging Jay down to loudly air kiss each cheek.
"Jared, I'm going to kiss your delicious wife now," Misha informs him solemnly, before turning to Gen as Jared just laughs and shakes his head. Gen gets treated to air kisses even more exaggerated than Jared, and she grins as she enthusiastically returns them.
"Happy birthday, Misha," she says once he's pulled back, leaning forward to kiss him properly on one cheek.
"Thanks, Gen," Misha replies, not sounding half as drunk as he did 30 seconds ago, and Jensen can't help but wonder just how much is an act and how much is the free-flowing alcohol.
"Food's in the corner," Misha continues, waving over to the back of the bar where Jensen can see Jim and Alona standing with a group of people Jensen doesn't know.
Jared perks up at the mention of food and Jensen can almost see the mini cheeseburgers in his eyes. "You comin'?" he asks, looking at Jensen as Genevieve wanders over towards Alona.
Jensen nods and starts to follow Jared, but he's stopped by Misha's hand against his chest, stopped by the intent look Misha gives him as Jensen's gaze follows Misha's arm up to his face.
"You haven't had your birthday kisses, yet," Misha says, before moving in quickly and pressing a kiss to each cheek.
Jensen's pretty sure that Misha didn't actually kiss Jared and Genevieve, pretty sure that all Misha's lips had touched was air. Which doesn't explain why Jensen feels a soft brush of lips against his skin, feels the slightest touch of Misha's mouth against his cheeks.
"Better," Misha declares as he pulls back, eyes wide and reflecting dark in the dim light of the bar, instead of the bright blue Jensen knows they are. "Much better." And then he's gone, weaving in and out of the crowd, talking and laughing and touching.
Jensen doesn't really talk to Misha again until the end of the night. Misha's moving from group to group to group, not spending time with any specific person. Jensen has a few moments with him next to the table laden with food, just enough time for Misha to steal a cocktail sausage off Jensen's plate before he's dragged off again by a woman who laughs Sorry! Gotta steal the birthday boy-- as she pulls him away. Apart from that, though, all he sees of Misha is a glimpse every so often, until hours have passed and Jared taps him on the shoulder to tell him Clif's on his way to pick them up and should be there in about ten minutes.
Jensen just nods as he tells Jared he'll meet them outside. The time it'll take Clif to get there should be long enough for Jensen's head to clear a bit. The world's not entirely steady and Jensen knows he's had too much to drink, though he's not sure if it was the beer, the whiskey, or that frou-frou pink thing with the umbrella in it that Alona gave him that finally tipped him over the edge.
The air's cool outside, just sharp enough to cut through the thin jacket Jensen's wearing. Any other time and he'd be tempted to go back inside to wait for Clif, but the slight chill's actually kinda nice.
Resting with his back against the wall, Jensen lets his eyes drift shut, his fingers tapping against the brick in time with the muted music coming from inside. There's a pause as the song changes, moving to something he's pretty sure Jim's just put on. The words get clearer, and apparently somebody took the words right out of my mouth, as the door opens and Jensen's just about to tell Jared that Clif's not here yet when the soft Hey, Jensen-- makes his eyes open.
Misha's standing next to the door, arms crossed as he leans his shoulder against the building, gaze fixed on Jensen.
"Misha." The name feels heavy on Jensen's tongue and Jensen hopes like hell it's the alcohol that's causing the cotton wool in his throat, because he's not quite prepared to examine any other reasons just yet.
Misha continues to look at him and Jensen's sure there are whole conversations going on between the two of them right now, he just has no idea what any of them are.
"Mi--" But that's as far as Jensen gets before Misha moves, closing the distance between them in three easy strides.
Which means kiss number eight happens in front of the bar. It's quick and messy, and the sharpness of the whiskey Misha's been drinking seeps onto Jensen's lips. Misha grips Jensen's tee, the fabric bunching in his fists, as Jensen's fingers run up through Misha's hair to hold him still. And it may be quick and messy, but it's fucking perfect, and Jensen curses when the headlights of a car turn into the parking lot, making Misha step back, breaking the kiss and moving away from Jensen in one smooth motion.
Jensen's on the verge of asking Misha what it is they're doing when Jared spills out of the bar, laughing and drunk and wrapped around Genevieve.
"Awesome night, man," Jared says as soon as he sees them, hand reaching out to slap Misha's shoulder. "You throw a hell of a party, Collins."
Misha shrugs. "What can I say, it's a gift," he replies, returning Jared's grin before looking back over at Jensen. "I'll see you on set on Monday."
And Jensen knows Misha's talking to all of them, he does, but it still feels like Misha's words, low and rough and tinged with alcohol, are aimed directly at him.
The car stops in front of them and Clif gets out to help Genevieve manhandle a not-entirely co-ordinated Jared into the back seat.
"Jensen? You coming?" Genevieve asks when Jared's finally in the car, still laughing and part way through explaining to Clif why he should never get into a drinking contest with Sam.
Jensen glances over to her, tells her he'll be there in just a minute, that he just needs to--
Misha's already gone by the time he turns back.
It takes Jensen a while to track Misha down on set on the Monday. So far, all the comments he's heard have been about the party on Saturday night, including one involving a turtle that he really hopes isn't true.
He finally sees Misha leaving make-up and heading back to his trailer, and Jensen follows him before he realises he has no idea what he's going to say. So, hey, great party on Saturday. Did you get any good presents? Oh, and by the way, is it just me or do we seem to be dancing around wanting to fuck each other's brains out? doesn't exactly seem like the right opening for this one.
He still doesn't know what he's going to say right up until the point he's knocking on Misha's trailer door. Luckily, it turns out he doesn't have to say anything, because Misha just takes one look at Jensen and pulls him inside.
Which is how Jensen ends up pressed to the wall with Misha against him, his thigh between Jensen's legs and pushing at the swell of Jensen's cock behind the denim. Misha grins and leans closer, and Jensen's one step away from begging, one step away from just saying fuck it and pulling Misha to the floor right the hell now.
"You left on Saturday." Misha's breath is hot across Jensen's cheek.
"You kissed me on Saturday."
Misha pulls back at Jensen's words. "You left because I kissed you?"
"No!" spills from Jensen's lips in a frenzy, because fuck if Misha thinks that. "That's not why I left."
"Good." Misha's grin is blinding. "Because I'd really like to do it again."
Misha's so close Jensen can almost taste the coffee on his lips, bitter and strong and with far too much sugar, because that's how Misha likes it. There's barely a breath between them and if Jensen just leans forward he'll--
Smack his head off the wall as someone bangs on the door, apparently.
"Misha! You're needed on set!" The muffled yell of one of the runners comes through the door.
Misha drops his head to Jensen's shoulder and groans. And Jensen's with him on that one, he's absolutely fucking with him.
"Five minutes!" Misha shouts back.
Five minutes is good. They can do a lot in five minutes.
"I was told not to come back without you!" comes the reply.
Or not.
Misha steps back, grimacing softly as he adjusts Castiel's trousers and throwing an apologetic look in Jensen's direction.
"I need to--" Misha nods towards the door.
"Yeah--" Jensen replies. "Don't worry, I'll see you later, okay?"
Misha grins again and then he's gone, leaving Jensen half-hard and completely frustrated and due on set in about ten minutes.
Jensen counts it as number nine, even though it really wasn't.
Kisses ten to eighteen are scattered over Misha's body; the two of them lying in bed as sunlight streams through the window. Jensen grins down at Misha, his fingers wrapped around Misha's wrists, pinning his arms above his head. Leaning down, he nips at Misha's lower lip, tugging on it gently until Misha's mouth opens slightly.
"Jensen--" Misha's body arches upwards, his hard cock pressing into Jensen's stomach.
Jensen grins at the whine. (Grins because Misha claims he doesn't whine, has never whined and will never whine. Even though he does it every time Jensen's fingers circle his wrists, every time Jensen's fingers are inside his body.) He grins as he lowers his head, his mouth settling over Misha's as his tongue runs along Misha's lips until he's allowed inside.
Jensen ignores the soft groan that comes from Misha's throat as he pulls back, shifting as he steadily works his way down Misha's body, scattering kisses across chin and neck and chest.
"C'mon, Jensen, please--"
Misha's straining against him, his hands still above his head, even though Jensen released him minutes ago. Misha's eyes are closed and his teeth are worrying at his lip, like he's holding everything inside. Except Jensen wants to hear him, wants the please and the yes and the oh my fucking god, harder-- He especially wants the oh my fucking god, harder--
Swiping a tongue over one of Misha's nipples, he waits a moment before closing his teeth around the nub, smirking at the yelp and the indignant look Misha gives him before pressing a kiss to the reddened mark he's left behind.
"Bastard--" Misha says, the way the word breaks in the middle belying any heat behind it.
"You know you love it--"
Misha doesn't answer as Jensen continues his way down the body under him, kisses running across Misha's stomach and hip and thigh. He carefully avoids Misha's cock, fingers running over skin and skirting around the hard dick and drawn-up balls.
Kneeling between Misha's legs, Jensen grabs the lube from where it's lying on the bed, squeezing it over his fingers and pressing them to Misha's ass. Misha's tight and hot around Jensen's fingers as they sink inside and Jensen's knows it's not enough, perfunctory slicking as Misha clenches around the digits inside him, gasping out Jensen's name. He knows it not enough, but he doesn't care, because he needs to be in Misha. Needs to be in him right the fuck now.
The rest of the lube goes over Jensen's cock, his touch light because he's two steps away from coming and he's not prepared to do that until he's buried balls deep in Misha's ass.
Lifting Misha's leg to his shoulder, Jensen turns his head, his lips brushing over Misha's ankle before he moves, thrusting inside Misha's body, into heat and want and Jensen is there--
Jensen jerks awake as he comes, cock pulsing and Misha's name on his lips. The bright red 4:08 blinks at him from his bedside clock and he hopes to hell Jared's too asleep to have heard anything. Which is more than likely, considering Jared staggered home at about 3am after his night out with Chad to commiserate the fact that Genevieve was in LA for a couple of weeks, filming a new pilot, and pretty much collapsed as soon as he got through the door. Added to the fact that Jared both sleeps like the dead and snores like a motherfucker when he's drunk, Jensen's pretty sure he's safe.
Throwing back the sheet covering him, Jensen grimaces as he peels his sticky boxers down his legs, quickly cleaning himself up with the wadded up fabric before dropping them to the floor.
He's sated and still kinda sticky and his cock feels happier than it has in a long time. The downside is he just had a really fucking hot wet dream about Misha fucking Collins. Which means tomorrow, when he walks on set and looks Misha in the eyes while Dean Winchester and Castiel get into each other's personal space (which Sera's had them doing a whole lot more ever since that damn kiss aired) and argue about the merits of Heaven versus free will, he'll have to do it all without thinking about the obscene porn noises that were made as dream-Jensen fucked dream-Misha through the dream-mattress.
So, yeah, kisses ten to eighteen happen in a dream. And Jensen totally blushes when he sees Misha the next day.
The nineteenth time Jensen kisses Misha, Jared turns out to be a cock-blocking bastard. It happens like this: the party's at their house. There's no reason for it, just a plan to get a few friends around that spirals out of control until most of the crew are invited, and those that aren't seem to be coming anyway.
Jim brings beer, Alona brings beer, Sam brings beer. Richard, who Jensen didn't even realise was in town, brings a fuckload of beer, including the expensive German stuff that Jared adores and Jensen can't pronounce. (This also leads to Jared offering to leave Genevieve for Richard if he keeps supplying him with beer, and Genevieve telling Richard that if he's going to accept then to make sure he never lets Jared eat Mexican unless he's prepared to sleep with the windows open.)
When Misha arrives, it isn't with beer, but with several bottles of liquor that he seems determined to mix into the most luridly coloured combinations he can find. He also brings a foosball table, which he totally makes Jared and Jensen carry inside from the trunk of his car.
It degenerates once the foosball table is set up with challenges flying all around the room. So far, Alona's top of the league they seem to have drawn up, declaring a misspent youth and fantastic wrist action as the reason she's beaten everyone she's taken on.
People start drifting away sometime in the early evening, with Alona casting a final longing look at the foosball table as Marcos hoists her over his shoulder and carries her out. Jared's wrangling the dogs in from outside, leaving Jensen to start picking up the bottles and glasses littering every surface.
"Let me help."
The offer comes from Misha. He's the last one there, and Jensen's not sure if that's by accident or design, but he's not complaining.
They've dumped most of the bottles in the recycling before Jensen finally cracks, a combination of alcohol and heat and Misha being there all afternoon, just out of reach, making him grab Misha's wrist.
"Jensen?" Misha's tone is light, his eyes sparkling with humour.
"C'mere--" Because they're doing this. They've been doing this for months now, and Jensen's ready to move it the fuck on.
Misha smiles as Jensen tugs at his arm, pulling him closer and twisting around until he's got Misha up against one of the cabinets, ready and there.
Hand on Misha's hip, Jensen leans in, lips against Misha's and wondering if Jared would have any serious objections if they just fucked right here on the kitchen counter because Jensen's really not sure if he can make it to the bedroom.
But, fate being fate and Jensen's luck being really fucking shitty right now, it's not even a question as the kitchen door bangs open and Harley barrels into the room, tail wagging and jumping up at Misha as soon as he sees him, all but pushing Jensen away in his quest to get his head scratched.
"Harley, what are you--" Jared's words trail off as he walks into the kitchen and sees Misha, one hand on Harley's head and the other curled around the edge of the counter, Jensen's fingers still around his wrist. "Misha, I didn't realise you were still here. I wouldn't have let Harley loose if I'd known." And if Jared finds it strange that Jensen and Misha are standing that close in an otherwise completely empty kitchen, he isn't saying anything.
Misha shrugs. "No worries. I should go, it's getting late." Misha points towards the door without actually walking there.
"Yeah." Even though Jensen's thinking Stay. Well, Stay, and Jesus Christ, Padalecki, will you fucking leave already-- Because Jensen doesn't want to do this with Jared looking at them both like he's trying to figure out exactly what's going on.
Misha's thumb brushes over Jensen's wrist before he pulls away. "I'll see you both on set." And then he's slipping out of the door, leaving Jensen in the kitchen with empty bottles and a hard cock that's bemoaning the lack of the action it's not going to have tonight. Well, fuck.
The twentieth time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins they're not on set, in Rome, or on stage. They're not surrounded by a few hundred people with a few hundred cameras and it sure as hell isn't a dream (although it still kind of feels like one to Jensen at times). They've made sure there's no Jared, no Harley, no one who can interrupt at any given moment. They've locked the door and unplugged the phone and their cell phones are turned off and somewhere over on the other couch.
It's just him and Misha and an entire afternoon when neither of them needs to be anywhere.
The twentieth time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it kind of feels like the first, even though it isn't. Except, Jensen thinks, fingers tangling in Misha's hair and Misha's hand running under his shirt and the whole of every tomorrow spread out before them, in all the ways that it really is.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,688
Summary: The first time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it's a mistake...
Notes: Written for the Time: Twentieth square of kissbingo. Many thanks to oddlyfamiliar and to A for checking this over. And also thanks to oddlyfamiliar for giving me the quote the title comes from, which is Robert Herrick's Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.
Add a Hundred More
The first time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it's a mistake. They've been on set for nearly twenty hours due to a camera fault that means they've lost four hours of filming time. Jared's already gone home, so it's just the two of them left with one more scene to do. One more scene where Dean leans forward, lips close to Castiel's ear as he speaks. But Jensen leans a little too far forward and Misha turns at just the wrong time which means that Jensen's lips are against Misha's cheek, his skin smooth and tasting faintly of the light foundation Carly had applied that morning in make-up.
Jensen pulls back, apology already falling from his mouth, but Misha just waves him off with a comment about at least buying him dinner first.
They start the scene from the beginning, managing to run through it perfectly this time. And Jensen's not sure if he's imagining it, but he thinks Misha's gaze lingers a little too long on his lips when they finally leave the studio and say goodnight.
The second time Jensen kisses Misha, it's technically Misha kissing him. Well, actually, it's technically Castiel kissing Dean, a soft caress of lips across Dean's forehead when he's asleep that's careful and precise. A touch that barely brushes Jensen's skin, but is enough to make his eyes jerk open as he looks at Misha in surprise because he's pretty sure that's not in the goddamn script.
The third time is Sera's fault, because they have to re-shoot the scene. What she tells Jensen is to make sure his eyes stay closed this time. What she tells Misha, however, is to keep the kiss in.
The fourth time it happens, they're in Rome and on stage and surrounded by about 900 people. Jared's just answered a question about how he'd like Sam's story to end, speaking about redemption and hope. He also mentions something about a hundred virgins that's met with an indignantly amused Hey! from the side of the stage Genevieve's standing at.
The MC calls for one last question and Jensen thinks they've avoided it but then the microphone is handed to a petite redhead who asks Misha why he thinks Castiel kissed Dean and what it meant.
Misha just grins as he glances at Jensen before fixing his focus back on the woman who asked the question. Jensen doesn't know what Misha's going to say; doesn't know because he's never actually asked why Castiel kissed Dean, never asked why Misha did it.
"I think it just means that Castiel wanted to kiss Dean," Misha says, grinning. "After all, have you looked at Jensen, recently? Who wouldn't want to kiss him?" And then Misha leans over, exaggerated smirk on his lips as he kisses Jensen's cheek, before Jensen pushes him away and a sea of camera flashes almost blinds him.
The fifth time, they're still in Rome. Payback for the panel, Jared had said. It'll be awesome, Jared had said. So they grab Misha during the closing ceremony, their hands wrapping around Misha's arms as the two of them plant a kiss on each cheek, loud and noisy and exaggerated, and not caring about the cameras going off. There's video on YouTube within the hour.
The sixth (and seventh) time they kiss it's Misha's birthday and he's not entirely sober. Jensen's just arrived with Jared and Genevieve and Misha's heading straight towards them as soon as they step into the bar the party appears to have taken over. Misha grabs Jared first, dragging Jay down to loudly air kiss each cheek.
"Jared, I'm going to kiss your delicious wife now," Misha informs him solemnly, before turning to Gen as Jared just laughs and shakes his head. Gen gets treated to air kisses even more exaggerated than Jared, and she grins as she enthusiastically returns them.
"Happy birthday, Misha," she says once he's pulled back, leaning forward to kiss him properly on one cheek.
"Thanks, Gen," Misha replies, not sounding half as drunk as he did 30 seconds ago, and Jensen can't help but wonder just how much is an act and how much is the free-flowing alcohol.
"Food's in the corner," Misha continues, waving over to the back of the bar where Jensen can see Jim and Alona standing with a group of people Jensen doesn't know.
Jared perks up at the mention of food and Jensen can almost see the mini cheeseburgers in his eyes. "You comin'?" he asks, looking at Jensen as Genevieve wanders over towards Alona.
Jensen nods and starts to follow Jared, but he's stopped by Misha's hand against his chest, stopped by the intent look Misha gives him as Jensen's gaze follows Misha's arm up to his face.
"You haven't had your birthday kisses, yet," Misha says, before moving in quickly and pressing a kiss to each cheek.
Jensen's pretty sure that Misha didn't actually kiss Jared and Genevieve, pretty sure that all Misha's lips had touched was air. Which doesn't explain why Jensen feels a soft brush of lips against his skin, feels the slightest touch of Misha's mouth against his cheeks.
"Better," Misha declares as he pulls back, eyes wide and reflecting dark in the dim light of the bar, instead of the bright blue Jensen knows they are. "Much better." And then he's gone, weaving in and out of the crowd, talking and laughing and touching.
Jensen doesn't really talk to Misha again until the end of the night. Misha's moving from group to group to group, not spending time with any specific person. Jensen has a few moments with him next to the table laden with food, just enough time for Misha to steal a cocktail sausage off Jensen's plate before he's dragged off again by a woman who laughs Sorry! Gotta steal the birthday boy-- as she pulls him away. Apart from that, though, all he sees of Misha is a glimpse every so often, until hours have passed and Jared taps him on the shoulder to tell him Clif's on his way to pick them up and should be there in about ten minutes.
Jensen just nods as he tells Jared he'll meet them outside. The time it'll take Clif to get there should be long enough for Jensen's head to clear a bit. The world's not entirely steady and Jensen knows he's had too much to drink, though he's not sure if it was the beer, the whiskey, or that frou-frou pink thing with the umbrella in it that Alona gave him that finally tipped him over the edge.
The air's cool outside, just sharp enough to cut through the thin jacket Jensen's wearing. Any other time and he'd be tempted to go back inside to wait for Clif, but the slight chill's actually kinda nice.
Resting with his back against the wall, Jensen lets his eyes drift shut, his fingers tapping against the brick in time with the muted music coming from inside. There's a pause as the song changes, moving to something he's pretty sure Jim's just put on. The words get clearer, and apparently somebody took the words right out of my mouth, as the door opens and Jensen's just about to tell Jared that Clif's not here yet when the soft Hey, Jensen-- makes his eyes open.
Misha's standing next to the door, arms crossed as he leans his shoulder against the building, gaze fixed on Jensen.
"Misha." The name feels heavy on Jensen's tongue and Jensen hopes like hell it's the alcohol that's causing the cotton wool in his throat, because he's not quite prepared to examine any other reasons just yet.
Misha continues to look at him and Jensen's sure there are whole conversations going on between the two of them right now, he just has no idea what any of them are.
"Mi--" But that's as far as Jensen gets before Misha moves, closing the distance between them in three easy strides.
Which means kiss number eight happens in front of the bar. It's quick and messy, and the sharpness of the whiskey Misha's been drinking seeps onto Jensen's lips. Misha grips Jensen's tee, the fabric bunching in his fists, as Jensen's fingers run up through Misha's hair to hold him still. And it may be quick and messy, but it's fucking perfect, and Jensen curses when the headlights of a car turn into the parking lot, making Misha step back, breaking the kiss and moving away from Jensen in one smooth motion.
Jensen's on the verge of asking Misha what it is they're doing when Jared spills out of the bar, laughing and drunk and wrapped around Genevieve.
"Awesome night, man," Jared says as soon as he sees them, hand reaching out to slap Misha's shoulder. "You throw a hell of a party, Collins."
Misha shrugs. "What can I say, it's a gift," he replies, returning Jared's grin before looking back over at Jensen. "I'll see you on set on Monday."
And Jensen knows Misha's talking to all of them, he does, but it still feels like Misha's words, low and rough and tinged with alcohol, are aimed directly at him.
The car stops in front of them and Clif gets out to help Genevieve manhandle a not-entirely co-ordinated Jared into the back seat.
"Jensen? You coming?" Genevieve asks when Jared's finally in the car, still laughing and part way through explaining to Clif why he should never get into a drinking contest with Sam.
Jensen glances over to her, tells her he'll be there in just a minute, that he just needs to--
Misha's already gone by the time he turns back.
It takes Jensen a while to track Misha down on set on the Monday. So far, all the comments he's heard have been about the party on Saturday night, including one involving a turtle that he really hopes isn't true.
He finally sees Misha leaving make-up and heading back to his trailer, and Jensen follows him before he realises he has no idea what he's going to say. So, hey, great party on Saturday. Did you get any good presents? Oh, and by the way, is it just me or do we seem to be dancing around wanting to fuck each other's brains out? doesn't exactly seem like the right opening for this one.
He still doesn't know what he's going to say right up until the point he's knocking on Misha's trailer door. Luckily, it turns out he doesn't have to say anything, because Misha just takes one look at Jensen and pulls him inside.
Which is how Jensen ends up pressed to the wall with Misha against him, his thigh between Jensen's legs and pushing at the swell of Jensen's cock behind the denim. Misha grins and leans closer, and Jensen's one step away from begging, one step away from just saying fuck it and pulling Misha to the floor right the hell now.
"You left on Saturday." Misha's breath is hot across Jensen's cheek.
"You kissed me on Saturday."
Misha pulls back at Jensen's words. "You left because I kissed you?"
"No!" spills from Jensen's lips in a frenzy, because fuck if Misha thinks that. "That's not why I left."
"Good." Misha's grin is blinding. "Because I'd really like to do it again."
Misha's so close Jensen can almost taste the coffee on his lips, bitter and strong and with far too much sugar, because that's how Misha likes it. There's barely a breath between them and if Jensen just leans forward he'll--
Smack his head off the wall as someone bangs on the door, apparently.
"Misha! You're needed on set!" The muffled yell of one of the runners comes through the door.
Misha drops his head to Jensen's shoulder and groans. And Jensen's with him on that one, he's absolutely fucking with him.
"Five minutes!" Misha shouts back.
Five minutes is good. They can do a lot in five minutes.
"I was told not to come back without you!" comes the reply.
Or not.
Misha steps back, grimacing softly as he adjusts Castiel's trousers and throwing an apologetic look in Jensen's direction.
"I need to--" Misha nods towards the door.
"Yeah--" Jensen replies. "Don't worry, I'll see you later, okay?"
Misha grins again and then he's gone, leaving Jensen half-hard and completely frustrated and due on set in about ten minutes.
Jensen counts it as number nine, even though it really wasn't.
Kisses ten to eighteen are scattered over Misha's body; the two of them lying in bed as sunlight streams through the window. Jensen grins down at Misha, his fingers wrapped around Misha's wrists, pinning his arms above his head. Leaning down, he nips at Misha's lower lip, tugging on it gently until Misha's mouth opens slightly.
"Jensen--" Misha's body arches upwards, his hard cock pressing into Jensen's stomach.
Jensen grins at the whine. (Grins because Misha claims he doesn't whine, has never whined and will never whine. Even though he does it every time Jensen's fingers circle his wrists, every time Jensen's fingers are inside his body.) He grins as he lowers his head, his mouth settling over Misha's as his tongue runs along Misha's lips until he's allowed inside.
Jensen ignores the soft groan that comes from Misha's throat as he pulls back, shifting as he steadily works his way down Misha's body, scattering kisses across chin and neck and chest.
"C'mon, Jensen, please--"
Misha's straining against him, his hands still above his head, even though Jensen released him minutes ago. Misha's eyes are closed and his teeth are worrying at his lip, like he's holding everything inside. Except Jensen wants to hear him, wants the please and the yes and the oh my fucking god, harder-- He especially wants the oh my fucking god, harder--
Swiping a tongue over one of Misha's nipples, he waits a moment before closing his teeth around the nub, smirking at the yelp and the indignant look Misha gives him before pressing a kiss to the reddened mark he's left behind.
"Bastard--" Misha says, the way the word breaks in the middle belying any heat behind it.
"You know you love it--"
Misha doesn't answer as Jensen continues his way down the body under him, kisses running across Misha's stomach and hip and thigh. He carefully avoids Misha's cock, fingers running over skin and skirting around the hard dick and drawn-up balls.
Kneeling between Misha's legs, Jensen grabs the lube from where it's lying on the bed, squeezing it over his fingers and pressing them to Misha's ass. Misha's tight and hot around Jensen's fingers as they sink inside and Jensen's knows it's not enough, perfunctory slicking as Misha clenches around the digits inside him, gasping out Jensen's name. He knows it not enough, but he doesn't care, because he needs to be in Misha. Needs to be in him right the fuck now.
The rest of the lube goes over Jensen's cock, his touch light because he's two steps away from coming and he's not prepared to do that until he's buried balls deep in Misha's ass.
Lifting Misha's leg to his shoulder, Jensen turns his head, his lips brushing over Misha's ankle before he moves, thrusting inside Misha's body, into heat and want and Jensen is there--
Jensen jerks awake as he comes, cock pulsing and Misha's name on his lips. The bright red 4:08 blinks at him from his bedside clock and he hopes to hell Jared's too asleep to have heard anything. Which is more than likely, considering Jared staggered home at about 3am after his night out with Chad to commiserate the fact that Genevieve was in LA for a couple of weeks, filming a new pilot, and pretty much collapsed as soon as he got through the door. Added to the fact that Jared both sleeps like the dead and snores like a motherfucker when he's drunk, Jensen's pretty sure he's safe.
Throwing back the sheet covering him, Jensen grimaces as he peels his sticky boxers down his legs, quickly cleaning himself up with the wadded up fabric before dropping them to the floor.
He's sated and still kinda sticky and his cock feels happier than it has in a long time. The downside is he just had a really fucking hot wet dream about Misha fucking Collins. Which means tomorrow, when he walks on set and looks Misha in the eyes while Dean Winchester and Castiel get into each other's personal space (which Sera's had them doing a whole lot more ever since that damn kiss aired) and argue about the merits of Heaven versus free will, he'll have to do it all without thinking about the obscene porn noises that were made as dream-Jensen fucked dream-Misha through the dream-mattress.
So, yeah, kisses ten to eighteen happen in a dream. And Jensen totally blushes when he sees Misha the next day.
The nineteenth time Jensen kisses Misha, Jared turns out to be a cock-blocking bastard. It happens like this: the party's at their house. There's no reason for it, just a plan to get a few friends around that spirals out of control until most of the crew are invited, and those that aren't seem to be coming anyway.
Jim brings beer, Alona brings beer, Sam brings beer. Richard, who Jensen didn't even realise was in town, brings a fuckload of beer, including the expensive German stuff that Jared adores and Jensen can't pronounce. (This also leads to Jared offering to leave Genevieve for Richard if he keeps supplying him with beer, and Genevieve telling Richard that if he's going to accept then to make sure he never lets Jared eat Mexican unless he's prepared to sleep with the windows open.)
When Misha arrives, it isn't with beer, but with several bottles of liquor that he seems determined to mix into the most luridly coloured combinations he can find. He also brings a foosball table, which he totally makes Jared and Jensen carry inside from the trunk of his car.
It degenerates once the foosball table is set up with challenges flying all around the room. So far, Alona's top of the league they seem to have drawn up, declaring a misspent youth and fantastic wrist action as the reason she's beaten everyone she's taken on.
People start drifting away sometime in the early evening, with Alona casting a final longing look at the foosball table as Marcos hoists her over his shoulder and carries her out. Jared's wrangling the dogs in from outside, leaving Jensen to start picking up the bottles and glasses littering every surface.
"Let me help."
The offer comes from Misha. He's the last one there, and Jensen's not sure if that's by accident or design, but he's not complaining.
They've dumped most of the bottles in the recycling before Jensen finally cracks, a combination of alcohol and heat and Misha being there all afternoon, just out of reach, making him grab Misha's wrist.
"Jensen?" Misha's tone is light, his eyes sparkling with humour.
"C'mere--" Because they're doing this. They've been doing this for months now, and Jensen's ready to move it the fuck on.
Misha smiles as Jensen tugs at his arm, pulling him closer and twisting around until he's got Misha up against one of the cabinets, ready and there.
Hand on Misha's hip, Jensen leans in, lips against Misha's and wondering if Jared would have any serious objections if they just fucked right here on the kitchen counter because Jensen's really not sure if he can make it to the bedroom.
But, fate being fate and Jensen's luck being really fucking shitty right now, it's not even a question as the kitchen door bangs open and Harley barrels into the room, tail wagging and jumping up at Misha as soon as he sees him, all but pushing Jensen away in his quest to get his head scratched.
"Harley, what are you--" Jared's words trail off as he walks into the kitchen and sees Misha, one hand on Harley's head and the other curled around the edge of the counter, Jensen's fingers still around his wrist. "Misha, I didn't realise you were still here. I wouldn't have let Harley loose if I'd known." And if Jared finds it strange that Jensen and Misha are standing that close in an otherwise completely empty kitchen, he isn't saying anything.
Misha shrugs. "No worries. I should go, it's getting late." Misha points towards the door without actually walking there.
"Yeah." Even though Jensen's thinking Stay. Well, Stay, and Jesus Christ, Padalecki, will you fucking leave already-- Because Jensen doesn't want to do this with Jared looking at them both like he's trying to figure out exactly what's going on.
Misha's thumb brushes over Jensen's wrist before he pulls away. "I'll see you both on set." And then he's slipping out of the door, leaving Jensen in the kitchen with empty bottles and a hard cock that's bemoaning the lack of the action it's not going to have tonight. Well, fuck.
The twentieth time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins they're not on set, in Rome, or on stage. They're not surrounded by a few hundred people with a few hundred cameras and it sure as hell isn't a dream (although it still kind of feels like one to Jensen at times). They've made sure there's no Jared, no Harley, no one who can interrupt at any given moment. They've locked the door and unplugged the phone and their cell phones are turned off and somewhere over on the other couch.
It's just him and Misha and an entire afternoon when neither of them needs to be anywhere.
The twentieth time Jensen Ackles kisses Misha Collins, it kind of feels like the first, even though it isn't. Except, Jensen thinks, fingers tangling in Misha's hair and Misha's hand running under his shirt and the whole of every tomorrow spread out before them, in all the ways that it really is.