Look who's writing for a new fandom! Supernatural completely ruined my life. I bet you've never heard that before... (sarcasm)

So this is the first Cockles fic I ever wrote and I actually posted it on Tumblr a long time ago. I only recently found it hidden in my documents and thought I would share it with you guys as well :) This is what started my downward spiral into Cockles trash...

Enjoy!

(No disrespect meant to the actors and their families. I'm just Cockles trash.)

Jensen hurriedly rushed around the room grabbing pillows, blankets and any type of medicine he thought Misha might need while simultaneously getting ready for the Supernatural convention. "As soon as my Q&A is over I'll come back and check on you. But I have to go back around 6 for the goodbye. You think you can manage until I get back?"

Jensen had been genuinely worried about his co-worker and honestly wished he could just blow it all off but he knew Misha would have his ass if he bailed because he was sick. Not to mention all the fans that would probably storm the hotel they were staying in, banging on every single door demanding to see 'cockles' in person. Usually the only way one of them could tap out without there being a riot is if the rest of the cast banned together and put twice as much energy into their show. Usually everyone was having such a good time that they wouldn't even remember someone was missing. However, today was going to be a bit more difficult, Jensen decided. He was supposed to give a 110% to his performance, but how was he supposed to be all cheery when his boyfriend was stuck in this hotel room, bed ridden and barley able to stay conscious long enough to hold up a decent conversation?

You're an actor, dumbass, Jensen had scolded himself like he had somehow forgotten. But apparently his career choice was irrelevant because here he was sweating bullets as he flung yet another blanket over his shivering boyfriend. He then tucked the brunette in under the covers much like he would do to a small child. "Jens..." Misha wheezed out as he tried to muster up the energy to make himself look menacing.

Misha had never called him Jens in all the years they had known each other. Maybe Jen when he was teasing him but usually Misha preferred silly pet names, or at least Jay when being casual. Since Misha had gotten sick, Jens was all he seemed to be able to manage. Either that or his fever had made the older man delusional. Jensen didn't mind, really. He was just glad the big idiot was still alive.

"Stop... obsessing over... me... It's... obnoxious."

"Just trying to keep you breathing, dear," Jensen replied in a sickly sweet voice while fluffing his patient's pillows. "Well stop," Misha scolded. "You have to go... whore yourself out... for money..."

"Don't I do that enough when I'm with you?"

"At least... you won't come home... with a soar ass..."

"Well, obviously your dangerously high fever has had little effect on your snark." Even if the brunette was making fun of him, Jensen couldn't help but feel a little better. If Misha wasn't teasing him, then he would have a real emergency on his hands. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Jensen sighed disappointedly when Misha simply glared at him in response.

Jensen had been trying to take him to the hospital ever since his fever had reached a temperature of 103 early last night but the stubborn asshole didn't want to go because he was convinced the doctors would kill him with a drug overdose. Jensen called him on his bullshit but then Misha threw up all over the floor and the argument just kind of died after that.

Misha sniffled and then blew his nose in a tissue as Jensen walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. Taking Misha's clammy hand in his own and squeezing reassuringly, Jensen smiled down at him. "If you need anything. Anything. You call me, alright? I can fake another heart attack if I need to." Misha just glared down into his tissue like being sick was somehow its fault. He looked absolutely miserable, so Jensen leaned down planning on giving the brunette a kiss in hopes of cheering him up. However, just as Jensen was about to pucker his lips, Misha lifted his hand and placed a finger over his mouth, stopping Jensen half way in.

"I swear... if you try to kiss me right now... I will shoot a snot rocket right into your mouth."

Jensen grimaced. "That's disgusting."

"I know." Jensen decided he didn't care about the warning and opted instead for a quick kiss on the forehead. "Get some sleep," he said before grabbing his jacket and locking the door behind him. Misha grumbled unintelligible words to himself before rolling onto his side and curling up in a ball. "You better bring me kale, dickhead…"

Thanks for reading guys! Reviews are greatly appreciated as always!