The first time
Jensen went over to Misha’s house in LA was mid-summer—after a long, exhausting
fourth season had finally wrapped. Jensen had to admit, he was a little weary
about going over to his co-star’s place. They hadn’t known each other for very
long, even though it felt like they had. It was one of those friendships that seemed
old and comfortable right from the start, and Jensen loved that—but it was also a friendship that never strayed too far
from set. Misha wasn’t usually in LA the same times that he was, and any free
time they had during filming was almost always
spent with their respective families. Plus, the guy was always flying off—doing
some crazy thing in god-knows-where; which
made pinning him down very difficult;
and Jensen was never certain of where Misha would answer from when he called
him … but chances were, it wasn’t nearby, and they couldn’t just go out and
grab a bite, even if they both wanted to. Which is why it took nearly a year
for Jensen to finally see Misha’s house—and also why Jensen was so nervous
What if this was one of those friendships that only really worked in the right place? Like those people who acted all friendly at school, but as soon as they were out in the real world, everything got weird. Jensen didn’t want it to be like that with him and Misha—it would actually hurt if that’s how it turned out to be … and each step he took up Misha’s walkway made Jensen’s heart pound all the more. He finally composed himself, putting on his best smile even before knocking on the door—a little acting trick he learned over the years: start playing the part long before the cameras begin rolling. He barely got another knock in before the door flew open. Vicki was on the other side, nose plastered in a spiral-bound notebook, not even looking up as she waved Jensen in.
“Oh … h-hey, Vicki” he began, a little put off by the fact that eye contact hadn’t even been made yet. “How have you been?”
“Good, great—sorry … working” she mumbled, blindly shutting the door behind them before pulling a pen from her frizzy pinned back hair and scribbling something else amongst the scrawl already in the notebook.
“Oh, sorry to interrupt … is—is Misha around?” Jensen watched as the woman continued to write, still not making any attempt to lift her head. She always struck him as a little strange—not in a bad way, just in that unique way … much like Misha did at first. So this wasn’t too unexpected, really. God, he thought, those two were made for each other.
“It’s fine” she finally said, sticking the pen back in her hair and re-reading over what she just wrote. “He’s out back, doing …” for the first time in almost two minutes, Vicki looked up. “I honestly have no clue what he said he was doing—hopefully nothing stupid.”
Jensen smiled, quickly feeling a laugh jiggle up his throat. “It probably is.”
Vicki’s returned smile was warm and loving. “Probably. Feel free to go out there and make fun of him for it.”
“How about I make fun of him enough for both of us?” Jensen asked, giving the tall woman a saucy wink.
She grinned, quickly reaching down and swatting Jensen’s hip with her notebook. “I knew I liked you” she chirped, sauntering away with a laugh, grin slowly falling as she falls back into her work.
Jensen chuckled a little more before turning towards what he assumed was the back of the house—realizing a little late that he maybe should have asked Vicki for directions to where “out back” was. He knew Misha built this place himself, which—looking at it now, was all the more impressive. It was not some box with holes cut in it—it was actually a house. It had halls and unique little nooks, and intriguing details that were probably maddening at the time. Jensen wouldn’t be surprised if his friend put in a trap door or two, just because he could. It was pretty damn amazing overall … which made finding the backyard even harder. Jensen took a couple wrong turns before he finally got there, finding the guest bathroom and some storage closest along the way. Finally, he stumbled upon a side bar that had a sliding door on the far end that obviously led outside. Through the glass, Jensen caught a glimpse of an arm that he can only assume was Misha’s, or else—they have another house guest Jensen wasn’t aware of. His nerves suddenly spiked—he would feel even more uneasy if there was someone else here. He didn’t want to have to play nice with someone new while he was still trying to get to know the non-work side of Misha. With another deep breath, he moved towards the door—letting it out soft and heavy once he saw that it was in fact Misha on the other side … but the escaping air caught quickly with the sight of his friend’s bare back.
Tanned skin hugged muscle and bone—shifting and rippling like sand in a thinning tide. The back and forth of Misha’s arms as he chiseled down a piece of wood made every inch of his arm harden in a slew of sinew and rock. Sweat pilled on the curve of his shoulders and Jensen just stared hopelessly as one little drop ran down Misha’s side, finally hitting the line of his baggy cargo pants—they sag so far that Jensen could easily see the beginning mound of Misha’s ass—as well as the fact that the guy has no tan line there. What the fuck does that mean? He must have been thinking about it for a while because he only came to when he heard a loud tap on the glass right in front of his face.
Blue and dimples greeted him through the sheen and Jensen found himself grinning even as all the questions still ran through his mind. Misha eventually took a few steps back and gestured for him to come outside. Jensen damn near walked into the door following the motion—thankfully realizing what he was about to do before any real embarrassment could occur.
Misha’s smile beamed even brighter when Jensen finally joined him outside. “Hey there, stranger!” With open arms and no warning at all, Jensen found himself wrapped in a sweaty, tanned, muscly hug … and it was blissful.
“Hey … uh, how ya been?”