Jensen tried to take a calming, deep breath as he stopped outside of the bathroom door but his chest hurt too much. He could still hear Misha's soft moans and damn. Why did that turn him on so much? He closed his eyes and wondered what would happen if he were to go back in and get into the shower with him. He froze when he realized what he had just thought. Are you really thinking about your best friend in that way? He shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts from where they were pooling in his groin.

By the time a shirtless, sodden haired Misha appeared from the bathroom, Jensen had finished off half a pizza. He burped loudly and stood from the table, wincing at the sharp pain in his chest. He saw Misha's worried look from his peripheral but ignored it. He was fine. He shuffled to the couch and tried to sit down without grunting in pain. All he had done the whole day was watch TV. He was so tired of it. He looked over at Misha in hopes of some form of entertainment.

"Hey Mishka." He called, smirking because he could see the color rise in Misha's cheeks from the couch. Over the summer he had noticed more and more how much he could affect the other man. He liked it. Misha looked over as he took a bite of pizza.

"We need to do something besides TV, man. I'm so bored."

"You can barely walk without grunting like a caveman." Misha mumbled with his mouth full. Jensen shrugged, and immediately regretted it.

"Entertain me."

Misha rolled his eyes and washed his pizza down with another beer. "What you want me to pole dance for you?" He asked as he set the bottle on the wooden table.

"If you want to." Jensen replied then laughed at Misha's look of surprise. He wasn't expecting that answer. Ha.

"I can do accents for you, but I'm not going to dance." Misha declared as he reached for more pizza. Jensen grinned. He did like Misha's accents, but they were funnier when fueled by a crowd. He pulled his phone from his pocket as Misha ate another slice of pizza.

"Isn't it crazy to think we only have a week left before we go back to start filming again?" Misha asked suddenly. Jensen looked up from his phone to nod.

"Yeah. This summer flew." He paused and caught Misha's eyes. "Thank you for keeping me so busy. I needed it."

"I'm glad you tagged along. You can run a 5k now without dying." Misha grinned. His hair was starting to dry and stick up crazily again.

"Can and will are totally different words." Jensen muttered. He looked back down at his phone to avoid thinking about combing Misha's hair. It was another ten minutes before Misha stood from the table and went to the bedroom half of their hotel suite. Jensen had gotten used to sharing a suite with him versus two separate rooms. He preferred it, actually. I have fewer nightmares when he's around. He shook his head.

Misha reappeared clad in one of Jensen's AC/DC t-shirts and headed for the door. As he slipped his shoes on he asked, "I'm going to hit up the grocery store that's across the street. What do you want?"

"To not be bored as hell."

"From the store."

"Some form of entertainment."

Misha sighed through his nose and tossed a fake glare over his shoulder before leaving. Jensen looked around the overly silent hotel room. After a moment he turned music on from his phone, wanting to drown out the silence.

Three hours later, Jensen was pleasantly buzzed. He could breathe a little less painfully than the past day too, which helped with his mood. He set his empty cup on the coffee table and leaned back onto the couch. Misha waited until he was still before he sat back as well, which put him against Jensen's side.

Jensen kept an arm across the back of the couch, though the desire to put it around Misha instead kept tugging at his thoughts. Misha's chest rumbled with a laugh as he watched the movie. Jensen had watched maybe a half of the two movies that Misha had returned with. Most of his attention had been split between pain and the man beside him.

You're buzzed, not drunk. So that means these thoughts are legitimate, right? Jensen looked over at Misha, who saw and returned the gaze. Jensen wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to look away. Not with such captivating blue filling his thoughts. Misha held the stare for a while before he made a face and turned back to the tv.

Jensen's thoughts drifted to the show. How are they going to handle the kiss at the end of the last season? Will they ignore it? Acknowledge it? Downplay it? He recalled the feeling of Cas's kiss, the emotion behind it. He knew Misha was a phenomenal actor, but was it just acting? Was it acting at the convention too? He was sure it was the buzz talking, but he wanted to figure it out.

"Misha?" Jensen called softly. Misha kept his eyes on the TV and made a noise of acknowledgement. Jensen tried again. "Mishka."

Misha turned and before Jensen allowed himself to overthink it; he leaned over and pressed his lips against Misha's. Misha's body froze with confused surprise for a split second before his lips were moving as he pushed himself into the kiss. Fuck yeah. Jensen let his arm fall from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Misha, pulling them together. His chest protested angrily but he ignored it as Misha's hands appeared in Jensen's hair and the other played with the fabric of Jensen's shirt.

Misha's mouth tasted like the alcohol he had brought back from the store. Misha moaned once then pulled back, resting his forehead against Jensen's mouth. Jensen grinned.

"Well that set-"

"You're drunk, Jensen." Misha interrupted softly, dejectedly. Jensen's brow knitted in confusion as Misha sighed heavily. Misha leaned back before letting his hand trail from Jensen's hair down the length of his jaw. As his fingertips left Jensen's chin, Misha rose from the couch and disappeared into the bedroom.

Jensen sat on the saggy hotel room couch for half an hour as he tried to sort through the feelings and thoughts swirling around him. Did I upset him? He kissed me back… I'm not drunk… Jensen frowned towards the bedroom door, which had been shut silently at some point. He pulled himself to his feet and was annoyed with how wobbly he felt. Gripping his chest tightly, he shuffled to the bedroom.

The lights were off and from the streetlight shining through the heavy curtains he could see Misha's form curled up on his bed. Jensen sighed softly and used the bathroom before stripping to his boxers and climbing into his bed. He stared at the dark ceiling until well after his eyes had fully adjusted to the lack of light. It wasn't until Misha's breathing evened out and settled into a steady rhythm of sleep that Jensen felt himself begin to doze. I can apologize tomorrow. He thought as his body relaxed. Even though I'm not sorry.