Point of View
Title: Point of View
Rating: R
Pairing: Misha/Jensen/Dean
Spoilers/Warnings: RPS, Dean as an alternate personality of Jensen's (which could possibly be interpreted as incest or something, though it's not intended that way)
Summary: Misha's dating Jensen, but Jensen's not the only one in his body.
Notes: I actually did a twitfic of this idea several months ago and I liked the idea. So, I revisited it, hm, last week? Yeah. 3700 words later...
Also. This fic contains no factual information about Dissociative Identity Disorder/Multiple Personality Disorder. Pure artistic license on that front.
~*~
Jensen can see, but Dean's controlling their body, running their hands over their chest and down past their groin. Dean's put them in front of the mirror, naked and aroused. Jensen can feel it every time Dean scrapes blunt nails across sensitive skin. He'd be breathing hard, but Dean's got their mouth closed, curved it into a slight smirk.
He knows what he's doing to Jensen. He always knows; there have never been any secrets between them.
"Wonder what Misha would think," Dean murmurs, the words a louder echo of the thought. "What would he say if he knew you got off on me touching you? That it's never been masturbation, not really."
One hand slides down to tease behind their balls and the other finally wraps around their dick. Jensen keens silently and Dean smiles at their reflection.
"Yeah. I know exactly what you like, what you want, what you need," he continues. He speeds up his strokes, reaches a bit further back to push a fingertip inside. Jensen comes hard and Dean strokes him through it, smiling at the streaks of white marring the mirror surface.
"Bet Misha hasn't seen that."
~*~
Misha’s been dating Jensen for nearly three months when he finally meets Dean. He’s heard Jen talk about the guy, of course; from what he’s gathered, the two of them are pretty close. He’d just sort of figured that Jensen was waiting to introduce them. Then Jen shows up at his door one Saturday morning with a backpack and a serious expression.
He sits Misha down on the couch, starts talking about multiple personalities-“Dissociative Identity Disorder,” he says, “is close enough.”-and how, yeah, most cases are because of some sort of childhood trauma, but this one’s not. That this case is different and that doctors and psychologists haven’t been able to figure it out. Misha has to stop him here and ask where the hell his boyfriend is going with this. Jensen looks at him and says, “Dean’s my alternate personality, Misha. We share the same body.”
~*~
Jensen's leaning in to kiss him when the switch happens and a second later, it's Dean kissing Misha, mouth and hands steady and sure. And a part of Misha wants to protest, wants to push Dean away and say "Sorry, but you're not him," but it's a small part, easily overwhelmed by the much larger part that is marveling at the differences between how Dean kisses and how Jensen does.
That part is also wondering about how Dean differs from Jensen in other areas, but Misha doesn't let himself think about that too hard. It's one thing to be kissing your boyfriend's alternate personality--especially when said alternate personality initiated it--and another thing entirely to be contemplating sex with him.
Then Dean pulls back, eyes gone so dark as to be almost black. "Been wanting to do that for a while," Dean says softly.
Misha blinks at him. "Did you...Is Jensen...?"
Dean sighs and lifts one hand to cup Misha's cheek before letting it drop and pulling further back. "Jensen knows," he tells Misha.
"Then why--" But it's Jensen he's talking to now, not Dean. Jensen looks at him for a moment, then scowls.
"Nice, Misha. Real smooth."
~*~
It’s a bit weird, the first time Dean’s actually with them on a date.
They’d chosen a movie, something good enough to pay to see, but not something any of them were particularly avid about. That had been Jensen’s idea and since he knew Dean best, Misha had agreed.
Which put them in the very back row of the closest theater, watching some action flick with aliens and cowboys. Dean had surfaced when they’d gotten concessions to request some Rollos, but for the first half of the movie, it’s Jensen’s hand that Misha holds.
Then, right about the same time that the protagonist nearly dies for the fifth time, the pressure of the hand wrapped around Misha’s changes and Jensen-no, Dean-leans closer.
“This is absolutely terrible choreography,” the alternate personality whispers in Misha’s ear. And Misha smiles, because it’s true. He turns just a bit, not quite facing Dean.
“At least the bad guy is hot,” he whispers back. He can feel Dean’s grin against his ear. Then Dean shifts just a bit, tils his head just so, leans a bit closer.
“Can I…?” Misha doesn’t answer, just closes the gap and presses his mouth against Dean’s.
Once more, he’s surprised at how different it is from kissing Jensen. Dean’s more confident, a bit more playful. Dean’s free hand comes up to thread through Misha’s hair and Jensen must have told him about that (or maybe he already knew from watching Jensen kissing Misha and how does that work?) but he does it perfectly, tugging just the right amount.
They draw apart in stages, keep coming back to taste the other again, until they’re not quite touching, just breathing in each other. It takes Misha a moment to realize that the credits are rolling and the other people in the half-empty theater are getting up and leaving.
“Time to go,” Dean says softly. Misha nods, leans in for one more kiss and smiles as Jensen blinks at him.
“He’s a good kisser,” Misha tells his boyfriend. Jensen snorts.
“Of course he is. The cad.”
Misha grins. “You’re a good kisser, too.”
Jensen doesn’t dignify that with a response, but he does squeeze Misha’s hand.
~*~
"So, question."
Jensen lifts his head off of Misha's shoulder to look at him. "Yeah?"
"Is this a threesome or two two-somes?" Misha asks. Jensen sighs and shakes his head. He blinks, the action covering the switch. Dean hums thoughtfully.
"A threesome in two bodies?" he suggests.
Misha thinks about it. "Maybe. I'm still trying to figure out how to classify you and Jen. In relation to each other, that is."
Dean nods, one hand absently stroking down Misha's side. "I don't know," he admits after a moment. "But whatever we are, it's good."
Misha smiles at that. "Yeah, it is." And Dean smiles back, but it's Jensen that leans in to kiss him.
~*~
Jensen and Dean share a birthday. Misha’s not sure why he thought otherwise, given that they share the same body, but he’s a little startled to find out that their birthday is only two weeks away.
For a week, he frets over what to get them. He doesn’t want to be too ostentatious, but he doesn’t want to be cheap, either. His own birthday two months ago had been wonderful, but he can’t do that for them, too. Wouldn’t want to anyway. This has to be special.
So, he calls up his mom.
She’d met Jensen just before Dean had joined them, but she’s since met both of them and she’s the only other person that Misha can think of that might have an idea of what he can do for their birthday.
And then his mom just laughs at him, tells him to be himself and hangs up. Misha stares at the phone in disbelief.
Well, that helps. Not.
He turns to a friend of his and explains the situation in very vague, hypothetical terms. His friend nods, orders another drink and suggests flowers and chocolate.
Misha probably should have been more explicit about the “two guys” part.
So, he’s on his own as he steps into the mall. He knows he wants to at least get each of them a gift (and not the same gift for both, but something for each of them that’s specific to the recipient and he really should have thought this through back when he said yes to that dinner date with Jensen).
As it turns out, the only thing he can really think of that he can get Jensen that will be for Jensen alone is chocolate. Dean doesn’t care for it, so Misha splurges a bit on a box of mixed Ferrero Rocher chocolates.
One down, one to go.
Dean ends up being pretty easy to buy for, but Misha has to hunt through half a dozen stores before he finds what he’s looking for. Examining the model car kit, he nods. It’s the same make and model (off by a couple of years, but that’s not too bad) as Dean and Jensen’s car, which was given to them by their grandfather before he died.
Four hours, eighteen shops and a hundred bucks later, he’s got presents for his boyfriends. And that’s only part of what he wants to do. It’s just over a week until their birthday.
He calls Mrs. Ackles.
She laughs at him, tells him exactly what not to do if he didn’t want to mess things up and then informs him that neither Jensen nor Dean will care if he has something planned or not. That makes him feel a bit better.
Then, the day of, he oversleeps, rushes about trying to get things ready and ends up with glitter in his hair, a streamer stuck to his arm and flour all over the kitchen.
Dean takes one look at him and cracks up.
Jensen is more sympathetic, actually helping him clean up the flour and remove the streamer, but he’s still pretty amused by the whole thing. Not that Misha can really blame him.
Misha gets the presents out in an attempt to salvage what’s left of his plans. Both Jensen and Dean are thrilled and they end up having sex on the couch, after which Jensen informs him that it was the best birthday ever.
Then Dean promptly ruins the moment by pointing out the sparkles left in Misha’s hair.
~*~
“So, just to be clear,” Misha said, “We do want to go out for dinner to celebrate our three month anniversary of having a threesome in two bodies?”
“Yes,” Jensen said. Dean nodded.
“Yep.”
Misha sighed. “Good. So, where do we want to go?”
“I like seafood and Italian,” Jensen offered. “There’s a new place over on First that looks-“
“Dude, we had seafood or Italian the last five times we’ve gone out,” Dean interrupts, green eyes flashing. Misha grabs a notepad. This is the first time Jensen and Dean have actually fought aloud in front of him and he wants to get down the important bits. “We should go for steaks or something, this time. That place over on Deschutes was good.”
“Dean, we can have steaks here at home. None of us know how to do fish or lobster.”Jensen rolls his eyes before Dean takes over again.
“Having steaks at home compared to that place on Deschutes is like comparing the breaded shrimp you get out of the frozen food isle to a lobster cooked just before you eat it,” he says.
Jensen takes over for a moment to say, “You do realize that using a seafood metaphor isn’t the best strategy for convincing me otherwise?”
“Oh, shut up, bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“How about we get Chinese?” Misha suggests, smiling angelically at his boyfriend (boyfriends?)
Jensen pouts, but sighs and Misha knows he’s won. “I suppose I can get some sort of shrimp noodle dish,” he allows.
“And they’ve got decent beef, too,” Dean adds. “Fine. We’ll get Chinese.”
“Fantastic.” Misha tucks his notes away and pulls Dean out of his chair. “Come on. Let’s get you looking good.”
“Which one of us?” Dean teases. He’s grinning, having forgotten entirely the argument he’d just had with his body-mate mere minutes ago. Misha grins back.
“Both of you.”
Jensen huffs. “Hard to make only one of us look good, after all.”
“No, it’s not,” Dean retorts. “You open your mouth and I automatically look fantastic.”
Misha rolls his eyes. At this rate, they’re going to have to call in for take-out.
~*~
“You made it!”
Startled, Misha lets the tiny woman drag him and Jensen into the house. Before can get his bearings, she’s pulling him into a tight hug.
“Oh, it’s so good to meet you! Jensen and Dean have told me so much about you!”
“I, uh, good things, I hope,” Misha manages. She beams at him and lets him go in favor of accosting her son.
“Jensen! Let me look at you! I think you’ve gotten taller!” she exclaims, looking him up and down and Misha’s sorta scared she’s going to get teary. If he’d known meeting Jensen and Dean’s mom was going to be like riding a rollercoaster, he’s not sure he would have agreed to doing it.
“Mom,” Jensen says, grinning back at her. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Ackles says, waving the words away. “Now, let me see Dean. Dean! How’ve you been, honey?”
“Doing good, Mom,” Dean replies, bending a bit to hug her. “Misha takes good care of us.”
“As well he should,” she replies. “Now, dinner’s almost ready, but why don’t you show Misha your room before your father gets home?”
And with that, she bustles off towards the kitchen, leaving Misha blinking after her.
“Wow,” he says after a moment. “She’s, uh, quite the personality.”
Jensen laughs and Dean takes his hand. “Yeah, she is. But enough about our mom. We need to show you our old room,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. Misha just grins and lets himself be pulled up the stairs.
~*~
One of Misha's favorite things about this relationship is waking up in the mornings. He never knows whether he'll wake up with Dean or Jensen in his arms. Whether he'll see a soft smile and Jensen blinking sleepily at him or if it'll be Dean, eyes dark and fond as he watches Misha. Until he opens his eyes, he doesn't know and in the four months since Dean had become part of his and Jensen's sex life in addition to everything else, it's never gotten old.
~*~
“He’s turning 27. Hardly anything special.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “I know. But it’s his birthday and it’s the first he’s had since we got together. I want to do something special for him.”
Dean heaves a mental sigh and Jensen gets the impression of an eyeroll. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” Jensen starts, happy now that he’s got Dean’s participation. “I was thinking a nice dinner here, maybe a movie if dinner’s heavy enough that we just want to digest for a bit-“
“This is sounding incredibly domestic,” Dean remarked.
Jensen huffed. “That’s because it is. I’ve been dating him for ten months. You’ve been dating him for six. This is our longest relationship and the only one we’ve had where the guy liked you as well as me or vice versa. I’d kinda thought we’d keep this one.”
“Well, yeah,” Dean grumbles. “I wasn’t trying to say we should get rid of him. Just that this is the longest relationship we’ve ever been in and I’m just a bit worried that you’re jumping in the deep end without a life line.”
“Dean. This is a birthday party. Not a wedding. I’m not proposing that we move in with him, either.”
“No, we just sleep over there more nights than not.”
“Dean.”
“What.”
“You’re being a whiny bitch.”
“Your mom’s a whiny bitch.”
“Oh my god. You’re just mad that you didn’t think to do something for Misha first, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
But now that Jensen’s listening, he can hear the lie. “You so are. Oh my god. Mom will be thrilled. She always wanted a little girl.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You loooove me. And you loooooove Misha. You hear me, Dean? You looove us.”
“I can’t hear you!”
Jensen rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “I think we’ll have stir fry for Misha’s birthday dinner. What do you think?”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. And how about 'Remember the Titans' for the movie?”
“Oh, hell no. You cry like a baby every time we see that movie. Let’s watch…Lethal Weapon. Three.”
“Eh, I liked Two better.”
“Fine. Two.”
They’re quiet for a moment, then Dean asks, “Has he even seen the first one?”
Jensen blinks. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, make that two movies. And morning sex.”
“Which morning?”
“Both.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Thank you.”
~*~
Jensen’s been having an absolutely horrible day.
First, he oversleeps the alarm. Then, he has to forgo coffee and gets stuck at no less than four stop lights in a row. Dean is particularly snarky all day. Mish, when Jensen calls him during his lunch break for a bit of sympathy, is distracted by some sort of emergency at his own workplace. Add in irritated customers, asshole coworkers, an unsympathetic manager and liberal application of Murphy’s Law to pretty much everything.
By the time he staggers into his apartment, he’s about ready to collapse and sleep for the next week. Or month, maybe.
Except he can smell something delicious and Misha’s shoes are in the entryway. The man himself appears as Jensen shuts the door behind himself and grins, leaning on the wall.
“Dean called,” Misha says by way of explanation. And Jensen vaguely remembers letting Dean do something a couple of hours before work ended. “So I made lasagna.”
Jensen takes a moment to nearly smother Dean’s mental presence in pure gratitude. Then he smiles back at Misha. “Lasagna sounds perfect.”
“Good,” Misha says. “I’ll just check on the breadsticks and we can eat.”
“Breadsticks?” Jensen asks as he follows Misha into the kitchen. He looks at the still-steaming lasagna, at the white tablecloth, the two candlesticks and the half-full wine glasses. “Oh, my god. I love you.”
Misha glances up from where he is bent over the stove, eyes and mouth soft. “I love you, too.”
And just like that, Jensen’s horrible day becomes the best day ever.
~*~
They switch halfway through sliding down Misha's cock. Jensen's light, breathy gasps become Dean's lower, rougher groans. Green eyes look down at him and Misha's breath hitches.
Dean lifts himself up, lets himself down slowly, thigh muscles tight under Misha's hands. Then Dean blinks and it's Jensen staring down at him, Jensen riding him slow and steady. Another tortuous slide down and those eyes darken again and Dean leans down, grins against Misha's throat.
"Come for us," he whispers. "Jensen wants you to..." Another slow rocking of Jensen's hips.
"Dean wants you, too," he gasps. "Please." He shifts again and Dean echoes the word. "Please."
And with both of his lovers whispering it against his skin, Misha's head falls back, mouth open and keening as he comes.
~*~
It’s odd, seeing Dean not be one hundred percent confident about something. Misha knew that Dean was only human, but in the eight months he’s known Dean, the guy has never backed down from something or been timid about putting himself out there.
Hell, Dean was the first one to make a move on Misha.
However, turns out that even Superman had a kryptonite and Dean’s kryptonite turns out to be small children.
Older kids, eight and up, he’s great with. He loves playing catch and tag and generally goofing off with them. Misha’s neighbors adore him. But put Dean in the same room as a toddler or an infant and he gets all clumsy and tongue-tied.
Misha thinks it’s adorable, which usually leads to Dean frowning and Misha dragging his boyfriend away from the other people and kissing the hell out of him. Jensen usually returns with him to coo over the babies while Dean hides away in his mind, but that’s all right. They can take care of Dean later.
~*~
Despite all of Dean’s warnings that Misha was going to turn out to be an ax murderer any day now, they moved in just after the one year mark had passed on Jensen and Misha dating. Dean had argued for waiting until his time spent officially dating Misha had added up to a year, too, but neither Jensen nor Misha wanted to wait another four months.
“I don’t sleep well when you’re not here,” Misha said. Jensen got that silly grin that meant he was thinking sappy thoughts and Dean hurriedly pushed his way into the forefront.
“That’s sweet,” he said quickly. “So, how are we going to manage practicalities? Are Jensen and I selling our apartment? Do we, er, does Jensen need to co-sign the lease? Are pets allowed?”
Misha blinked at him. “Considering you’re going to be living here, I doubt you’ll have need for another apartment,” he reasoned. “And yeah, my landlord’s got a thing about significant others moving in. Whole subsection of the lease and everything. It’s not too bad, though, pretty simple. We can get that figured out before anything else is done. And yeah, pets are allowed. Why do you ask?”
“Dean, no. We’re not getting a pet monkey,” Jensen interrupted. Misha raised an eyebrow.
“A pet monkey?”
“Don’t ask,” Jensen muttered. “Long story. Embarassing story.”
“Ah. Well, then. Minus the monkey, are we good?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, I think we’re good. Dean?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I still say we could train him to attack intruders.”
“I’ll get you an attack hamster, instead. How’s that?”
“Hamsters are dumb.”
“I figured you could have long meaningful conversations with it.”
“Oh, shut up, bitch.”
“Jerk.”
Misha sat back in his chair. “Oh, this’ll be fun. I can’t wait to learn all your little oddities that living in a place twenty-four-seven brings.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Say what now?”
Jensen blinked, then let his head fall gently onto the table top. “Kill me now,” he muttered.
~*~
“You two are incredibly domestic,” Dean says while Misha is washing the dishes.
Misha glances at him, smiling. “You’re only just now figuring this out? After six years of living with me?”
Dean snorts. “God, no. I realized that ages ago. You’re both just even sappier than usual today.”
“Ah, so it’s the sappiness you object to,” Misha says, setting the last bowl on the towel to dry and drying his hands off. He steps over to Dean, tugs him in for a slow kiss.
When Misha pulls back, Dean blinks at him. “What was that for?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to be a bit sappy,” Misha tells him, leaning in to kiss Dean again.
Dean smiles against his lips. “Well,” he says, “I suppose it’s not that bad.”
“Damn right. Now kiss me, you fool.”
“Weirdo,” Dean says, but he’s still smiling as he obeys.
Rating: R
Pairing: Misha/Jensen/Dean
Spoilers/Warnings: RPS, Dean as an alternate personality of Jensen's (which could possibly be interpreted as incest or something, though it's not intended that way)
Summary: Misha's dating Jensen, but Jensen's not the only one in his body.
Notes: I actually did a twitfic of this idea several months ago and I liked the idea. So, I revisited it, hm, last week? Yeah. 3700 words later...
Also. This fic contains no factual information about Dissociative Identity Disorder/Multiple Personality Disorder. Pure artistic license on that front.
~*~
Jensen can see, but Dean's controlling their body, running their hands over their chest and down past their groin. Dean's put them in front of the mirror, naked and aroused. Jensen can feel it every time Dean scrapes blunt nails across sensitive skin. He'd be breathing hard, but Dean's got their mouth closed, curved it into a slight smirk.
He knows what he's doing to Jensen. He always knows; there have never been any secrets between them.
"Wonder what Misha would think," Dean murmurs, the words a louder echo of the thought. "What would he say if he knew you got off on me touching you? That it's never been masturbation, not really."
One hand slides down to tease behind their balls and the other finally wraps around their dick. Jensen keens silently and Dean smiles at their reflection.
"Yeah. I know exactly what you like, what you want, what you need," he continues. He speeds up his strokes, reaches a bit further back to push a fingertip inside. Jensen comes hard and Dean strokes him through it, smiling at the streaks of white marring the mirror surface.
"Bet Misha hasn't seen that."
~*~
Misha’s been dating Jensen for nearly three months when he finally meets Dean. He’s heard Jen talk about the guy, of course; from what he’s gathered, the two of them are pretty close. He’d just sort of figured that Jensen was waiting to introduce them. Then Jen shows up at his door one Saturday morning with a backpack and a serious expression.
He sits Misha down on the couch, starts talking about multiple personalities-“Dissociative Identity Disorder,” he says, “is close enough.”-and how, yeah, most cases are because of some sort of childhood trauma, but this one’s not. That this case is different and that doctors and psychologists haven’t been able to figure it out. Misha has to stop him here and ask where the hell his boyfriend is going with this. Jensen looks at him and says, “Dean’s my alternate personality, Misha. We share the same body.”
~*~
Jensen's leaning in to kiss him when the switch happens and a second later, it's Dean kissing Misha, mouth and hands steady and sure. And a part of Misha wants to protest, wants to push Dean away and say "Sorry, but you're not him," but it's a small part, easily overwhelmed by the much larger part that is marveling at the differences between how Dean kisses and how Jensen does.
That part is also wondering about how Dean differs from Jensen in other areas, but Misha doesn't let himself think about that too hard. It's one thing to be kissing your boyfriend's alternate personality--especially when said alternate personality initiated it--and another thing entirely to be contemplating sex with him.
Then Dean pulls back, eyes gone so dark as to be almost black. "Been wanting to do that for a while," Dean says softly.
Misha blinks at him. "Did you...Is Jensen...?"
Dean sighs and lifts one hand to cup Misha's cheek before letting it drop and pulling further back. "Jensen knows," he tells Misha.
"Then why--" But it's Jensen he's talking to now, not Dean. Jensen looks at him for a moment, then scowls.
"Nice, Misha. Real smooth."
~*~
It’s a bit weird, the first time Dean’s actually with them on a date.
They’d chosen a movie, something good enough to pay to see, but not something any of them were particularly avid about. That had been Jensen’s idea and since he knew Dean best, Misha had agreed.
Which put them in the very back row of the closest theater, watching some action flick with aliens and cowboys. Dean had surfaced when they’d gotten concessions to request some Rollos, but for the first half of the movie, it’s Jensen’s hand that Misha holds.
Then, right about the same time that the protagonist nearly dies for the fifth time, the pressure of the hand wrapped around Misha’s changes and Jensen-no, Dean-leans closer.
“This is absolutely terrible choreography,” the alternate personality whispers in Misha’s ear. And Misha smiles, because it’s true. He turns just a bit, not quite facing Dean.
“At least the bad guy is hot,” he whispers back. He can feel Dean’s grin against his ear. Then Dean shifts just a bit, tils his head just so, leans a bit closer.
“Can I…?” Misha doesn’t answer, just closes the gap and presses his mouth against Dean’s.
Once more, he’s surprised at how different it is from kissing Jensen. Dean’s more confident, a bit more playful. Dean’s free hand comes up to thread through Misha’s hair and Jensen must have told him about that (or maybe he already knew from watching Jensen kissing Misha and how does that work?) but he does it perfectly, tugging just the right amount.
They draw apart in stages, keep coming back to taste the other again, until they’re not quite touching, just breathing in each other. It takes Misha a moment to realize that the credits are rolling and the other people in the half-empty theater are getting up and leaving.
“Time to go,” Dean says softly. Misha nods, leans in for one more kiss and smiles as Jensen blinks at him.
“He’s a good kisser,” Misha tells his boyfriend. Jensen snorts.
“Of course he is. The cad.”
Misha grins. “You’re a good kisser, too.”
Jensen doesn’t dignify that with a response, but he does squeeze Misha’s hand.
~*~
"So, question."
Jensen lifts his head off of Misha's shoulder to look at him. "Yeah?"
"Is this a threesome or two two-somes?" Misha asks. Jensen sighs and shakes his head. He blinks, the action covering the switch. Dean hums thoughtfully.
"A threesome in two bodies?" he suggests.
Misha thinks about it. "Maybe. I'm still trying to figure out how to classify you and Jen. In relation to each other, that is."
Dean nods, one hand absently stroking down Misha's side. "I don't know," he admits after a moment. "But whatever we are, it's good."
Misha smiles at that. "Yeah, it is." And Dean smiles back, but it's Jensen that leans in to kiss him.
~*~
Jensen and Dean share a birthday. Misha’s not sure why he thought otherwise, given that they share the same body, but he’s a little startled to find out that their birthday is only two weeks away.
For a week, he frets over what to get them. He doesn’t want to be too ostentatious, but he doesn’t want to be cheap, either. His own birthday two months ago had been wonderful, but he can’t do that for them, too. Wouldn’t want to anyway. This has to be special.
So, he calls up his mom.
She’d met Jensen just before Dean had joined them, but she’s since met both of them and she’s the only other person that Misha can think of that might have an idea of what he can do for their birthday.
And then his mom just laughs at him, tells him to be himself and hangs up. Misha stares at the phone in disbelief.
Well, that helps. Not.
He turns to a friend of his and explains the situation in very vague, hypothetical terms. His friend nods, orders another drink and suggests flowers and chocolate.
Misha probably should have been more explicit about the “two guys” part.
So, he’s on his own as he steps into the mall. He knows he wants to at least get each of them a gift (and not the same gift for both, but something for each of them that’s specific to the recipient and he really should have thought this through back when he said yes to that dinner date with Jensen).
As it turns out, the only thing he can really think of that he can get Jensen that will be for Jensen alone is chocolate. Dean doesn’t care for it, so Misha splurges a bit on a box of mixed Ferrero Rocher chocolates.
One down, one to go.
Dean ends up being pretty easy to buy for, but Misha has to hunt through half a dozen stores before he finds what he’s looking for. Examining the model car kit, he nods. It’s the same make and model (off by a couple of years, but that’s not too bad) as Dean and Jensen’s car, which was given to them by their grandfather before he died.
Four hours, eighteen shops and a hundred bucks later, he’s got presents for his boyfriends. And that’s only part of what he wants to do. It’s just over a week until their birthday.
He calls Mrs. Ackles.
She laughs at him, tells him exactly what not to do if he didn’t want to mess things up and then informs him that neither Jensen nor Dean will care if he has something planned or not. That makes him feel a bit better.
Then, the day of, he oversleeps, rushes about trying to get things ready and ends up with glitter in his hair, a streamer stuck to his arm and flour all over the kitchen.
Dean takes one look at him and cracks up.
Jensen is more sympathetic, actually helping him clean up the flour and remove the streamer, but he’s still pretty amused by the whole thing. Not that Misha can really blame him.
Misha gets the presents out in an attempt to salvage what’s left of his plans. Both Jensen and Dean are thrilled and they end up having sex on the couch, after which Jensen informs him that it was the best birthday ever.
Then Dean promptly ruins the moment by pointing out the sparkles left in Misha’s hair.
~*~
“So, just to be clear,” Misha said, “We do want to go out for dinner to celebrate our three month anniversary of having a threesome in two bodies?”
“Yes,” Jensen said. Dean nodded.
“Yep.”
Misha sighed. “Good. So, where do we want to go?”
“I like seafood and Italian,” Jensen offered. “There’s a new place over on First that looks-“
“Dude, we had seafood or Italian the last five times we’ve gone out,” Dean interrupts, green eyes flashing. Misha grabs a notepad. This is the first time Jensen and Dean have actually fought aloud in front of him and he wants to get down the important bits. “We should go for steaks or something, this time. That place over on Deschutes was good.”
“Dean, we can have steaks here at home. None of us know how to do fish or lobster.”Jensen rolls his eyes before Dean takes over again.
“Having steaks at home compared to that place on Deschutes is like comparing the breaded shrimp you get out of the frozen food isle to a lobster cooked just before you eat it,” he says.
Jensen takes over for a moment to say, “You do realize that using a seafood metaphor isn’t the best strategy for convincing me otherwise?”
“Oh, shut up, bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“How about we get Chinese?” Misha suggests, smiling angelically at his boyfriend (boyfriends?)
Jensen pouts, but sighs and Misha knows he’s won. “I suppose I can get some sort of shrimp noodle dish,” he allows.
“And they’ve got decent beef, too,” Dean adds. “Fine. We’ll get Chinese.”
“Fantastic.” Misha tucks his notes away and pulls Dean out of his chair. “Come on. Let’s get you looking good.”
“Which one of us?” Dean teases. He’s grinning, having forgotten entirely the argument he’d just had with his body-mate mere minutes ago. Misha grins back.
“Both of you.”
Jensen huffs. “Hard to make only one of us look good, after all.”
“No, it’s not,” Dean retorts. “You open your mouth and I automatically look fantastic.”
Misha rolls his eyes. At this rate, they’re going to have to call in for take-out.
~*~
“You made it!”
Startled, Misha lets the tiny woman drag him and Jensen into the house. Before can get his bearings, she’s pulling him into a tight hug.
“Oh, it’s so good to meet you! Jensen and Dean have told me so much about you!”
“I, uh, good things, I hope,” Misha manages. She beams at him and lets him go in favor of accosting her son.
“Jensen! Let me look at you! I think you’ve gotten taller!” she exclaims, looking him up and down and Misha’s sorta scared she’s going to get teary. If he’d known meeting Jensen and Dean’s mom was going to be like riding a rollercoaster, he’s not sure he would have agreed to doing it.
“Mom,” Jensen says, grinning back at her. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Ackles says, waving the words away. “Now, let me see Dean. Dean! How’ve you been, honey?”
“Doing good, Mom,” Dean replies, bending a bit to hug her. “Misha takes good care of us.”
“As well he should,” she replies. “Now, dinner’s almost ready, but why don’t you show Misha your room before your father gets home?”
And with that, she bustles off towards the kitchen, leaving Misha blinking after her.
“Wow,” he says after a moment. “She’s, uh, quite the personality.”
Jensen laughs and Dean takes his hand. “Yeah, she is. But enough about our mom. We need to show you our old room,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. Misha just grins and lets himself be pulled up the stairs.
~*~
One of Misha's favorite things about this relationship is waking up in the mornings. He never knows whether he'll wake up with Dean or Jensen in his arms. Whether he'll see a soft smile and Jensen blinking sleepily at him or if it'll be Dean, eyes dark and fond as he watches Misha. Until he opens his eyes, he doesn't know and in the four months since Dean had become part of his and Jensen's sex life in addition to everything else, it's never gotten old.
~*~
“He’s turning 27. Hardly anything special.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “I know. But it’s his birthday and it’s the first he’s had since we got together. I want to do something special for him.”
Dean heaves a mental sigh and Jensen gets the impression of an eyeroll. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” Jensen starts, happy now that he’s got Dean’s participation. “I was thinking a nice dinner here, maybe a movie if dinner’s heavy enough that we just want to digest for a bit-“
“This is sounding incredibly domestic,” Dean remarked.
Jensen huffed. “That’s because it is. I’ve been dating him for ten months. You’ve been dating him for six. This is our longest relationship and the only one we’ve had where the guy liked you as well as me or vice versa. I’d kinda thought we’d keep this one.”
“Well, yeah,” Dean grumbles. “I wasn’t trying to say we should get rid of him. Just that this is the longest relationship we’ve ever been in and I’m just a bit worried that you’re jumping in the deep end without a life line.”
“Dean. This is a birthday party. Not a wedding. I’m not proposing that we move in with him, either.”
“No, we just sleep over there more nights than not.”
“Dean.”
“What.”
“You’re being a whiny bitch.”
“Your mom’s a whiny bitch.”
“Oh my god. You’re just mad that you didn’t think to do something for Misha first, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
But now that Jensen’s listening, he can hear the lie. “You so are. Oh my god. Mom will be thrilled. She always wanted a little girl.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You loooove me. And you loooooove Misha. You hear me, Dean? You looove us.”
“I can’t hear you!”
Jensen rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “I think we’ll have stir fry for Misha’s birthday dinner. What do you think?”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. And how about 'Remember the Titans' for the movie?”
“Oh, hell no. You cry like a baby every time we see that movie. Let’s watch…Lethal Weapon. Three.”
“Eh, I liked Two better.”
“Fine. Two.”
They’re quiet for a moment, then Dean asks, “Has he even seen the first one?”
Jensen blinks. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, make that two movies. And morning sex.”
“Which morning?”
“Both.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Thank you.”
~*~
Jensen’s been having an absolutely horrible day.
First, he oversleeps the alarm. Then, he has to forgo coffee and gets stuck at no less than four stop lights in a row. Dean is particularly snarky all day. Mish, when Jensen calls him during his lunch break for a bit of sympathy, is distracted by some sort of emergency at his own workplace. Add in irritated customers, asshole coworkers, an unsympathetic manager and liberal application of Murphy’s Law to pretty much everything.
By the time he staggers into his apartment, he’s about ready to collapse and sleep for the next week. Or month, maybe.
Except he can smell something delicious and Misha’s shoes are in the entryway. The man himself appears as Jensen shuts the door behind himself and grins, leaning on the wall.
“Dean called,” Misha says by way of explanation. And Jensen vaguely remembers letting Dean do something a couple of hours before work ended. “So I made lasagna.”
Jensen takes a moment to nearly smother Dean’s mental presence in pure gratitude. Then he smiles back at Misha. “Lasagna sounds perfect.”
“Good,” Misha says. “I’ll just check on the breadsticks and we can eat.”
“Breadsticks?” Jensen asks as he follows Misha into the kitchen. He looks at the still-steaming lasagna, at the white tablecloth, the two candlesticks and the half-full wine glasses. “Oh, my god. I love you.”
Misha glances up from where he is bent over the stove, eyes and mouth soft. “I love you, too.”
And just like that, Jensen’s horrible day becomes the best day ever.
~*~
They switch halfway through sliding down Misha's cock. Jensen's light, breathy gasps become Dean's lower, rougher groans. Green eyes look down at him and Misha's breath hitches.
Dean lifts himself up, lets himself down slowly, thigh muscles tight under Misha's hands. Then Dean blinks and it's Jensen staring down at him, Jensen riding him slow and steady. Another tortuous slide down and those eyes darken again and Dean leans down, grins against Misha's throat.
"Come for us," he whispers. "Jensen wants you to..." Another slow rocking of Jensen's hips.
"Dean wants you, too," he gasps. "Please." He shifts again and Dean echoes the word. "Please."
And with both of his lovers whispering it against his skin, Misha's head falls back, mouth open and keening as he comes.
~*~
It’s odd, seeing Dean not be one hundred percent confident about something. Misha knew that Dean was only human, but in the eight months he’s known Dean, the guy has never backed down from something or been timid about putting himself out there.
Hell, Dean was the first one to make a move on Misha.
However, turns out that even Superman had a kryptonite and Dean’s kryptonite turns out to be small children.
Older kids, eight and up, he’s great with. He loves playing catch and tag and generally goofing off with them. Misha’s neighbors adore him. But put Dean in the same room as a toddler or an infant and he gets all clumsy and tongue-tied.
Misha thinks it’s adorable, which usually leads to Dean frowning and Misha dragging his boyfriend away from the other people and kissing the hell out of him. Jensen usually returns with him to coo over the babies while Dean hides away in his mind, but that’s all right. They can take care of Dean later.
~*~
Despite all of Dean’s warnings that Misha was going to turn out to be an ax murderer any day now, they moved in just after the one year mark had passed on Jensen and Misha dating. Dean had argued for waiting until his time spent officially dating Misha had added up to a year, too, but neither Jensen nor Misha wanted to wait another four months.
“I don’t sleep well when you’re not here,” Misha said. Jensen got that silly grin that meant he was thinking sappy thoughts and Dean hurriedly pushed his way into the forefront.
“That’s sweet,” he said quickly. “So, how are we going to manage practicalities? Are Jensen and I selling our apartment? Do we, er, does Jensen need to co-sign the lease? Are pets allowed?”
Misha blinked at him. “Considering you’re going to be living here, I doubt you’ll have need for another apartment,” he reasoned. “And yeah, my landlord’s got a thing about significant others moving in. Whole subsection of the lease and everything. It’s not too bad, though, pretty simple. We can get that figured out before anything else is done. And yeah, pets are allowed. Why do you ask?”
“Dean, no. We’re not getting a pet monkey,” Jensen interrupted. Misha raised an eyebrow.
“A pet monkey?”
“Don’t ask,” Jensen muttered. “Long story. Embarassing story.”
“Ah. Well, then. Minus the monkey, are we good?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, I think we’re good. Dean?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I still say we could train him to attack intruders.”
“I’ll get you an attack hamster, instead. How’s that?”
“Hamsters are dumb.”
“I figured you could have long meaningful conversations with it.”
“Oh, shut up, bitch.”
“Jerk.”
Misha sat back in his chair. “Oh, this’ll be fun. I can’t wait to learn all your little oddities that living in a place twenty-four-seven brings.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Say what now?”
Jensen blinked, then let his head fall gently onto the table top. “Kill me now,” he muttered.
~*~
“You two are incredibly domestic,” Dean says while Misha is washing the dishes.
Misha glances at him, smiling. “You’re only just now figuring this out? After six years of living with me?”
Dean snorts. “God, no. I realized that ages ago. You’re both just even sappier than usual today.”
“Ah, so it’s the sappiness you object to,” Misha says, setting the last bowl on the towel to dry and drying his hands off. He steps over to Dean, tugs him in for a slow kiss.
When Misha pulls back, Dean blinks at him. “What was that for?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to be a bit sappy,” Misha tells him, leaning in to kiss Dean again.
Dean smiles against his lips. “Well,” he says, “I suppose it’s not that bad.”
“Damn right. Now kiss me, you fool.”
“Weirdo,” Dean says, but he’s still smiling as he obeys.