After a while he realizes Jensen's talking into his neck. "I thought we were gonna get back and you'd be dead," is the first whole sentence Misha processes. "I didn't remember about the script until yesterday, God Misha, I thought you'd be dead."

"I'm not," he says soothingly. "It's OK, I'm not." Somewhere off to the side Misha can hear Jared's voice, probably calling Genevieve, but he doesn't care about that right now. He just needs to get them stable enough to walk so they can retreat to his trailer. "I'm OK, I'm OK, Jen."

They both manage to catch their breath at about the same time as Jared hangs up his phone and comes over to them. "Come on, we shouldn't stay in here," Jared says, and offers his hands—both of them, to Misha and Jensen simultaneously. Misha blinks at him, then at Jensen, who manages a shaky smile and says, "Jay and I…talked." Misha tries to judge if that means "beat the hell out of each other" as he takes Jared's hand and climbs to his feet.

They spend the next hour in Misha's trailer, getting everyone up to speed. (Mostly. Misha glosses over how he and Dean spent their evenings, it being none of Jared's business.) Jensen seems to be unwilling to get more than about a foot from Misha at any point, and by the time he's got all the facts Jared is visibly restraining himself from heading for home and his wife—unsurprising, that.

When Jared leaves, he and Jensen exchange a quick hug. And they didn't even snipe at each other while the talking was going on. Misha's silently impressed, especially given that they do seem to have just talked. (It sounds like their adventures were about as hair-raising as his, though he's going to have to get Jensen to go over things in more depth. Regardless, that kind of thing is a bonding experience, and after all they used to be best friends.)

Once Jared's gone, Misha pulls Jensen over to sit on the swaybacked couch. They end up with Misha leaning against the arm, mostly in Jensen's lap with his arm slung around Jensen's neck. It's not going to be comfortable for long, but they'll worry about that when someone's legs start falling asleep; for the moment it's the best way to get as much contact as they can.

"So you and Dean, huh?" Jensen says. He sounds curious and amused, and Misha's startled into laughing.

"How'd you know?" he asks.

"Jay might not've picked it up, but I heard what you didn't say." He shrugs. "Once in a lifetime, Mish. I'd've done it too."

"Sounds like you and Castiel hardly even talked," Misha says, and Jensen's face gets far away and thoughtful.

"Yeah," he says slowly. "He's…don't get me wrong, you've got him down, but in person there's something…I don't even know. Dean's a brave man, that's all I can say."

"I made Dean promise to kiss him," Misha says. "And I told Sam so he can't chicken out."

Jensen laughs and says, "Good. About time."

That night, Misha dreams.

He dreams of the living room of Bobby's house, Sam rapping on the solid walls in relief. Dean asks him to stay, so he does. He stays even when Dean says quietly, "Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with Crowley," and he can't.

He dreams of Sam's anger, and Bobby's, and that Dean is strangely quiet through the recriminations and the explanations and the beginnings of planning, but at the end of it he feels hope as he hasn't since his war with Raphael began-since he accepted Crowley's offer.

He dreams it's late enough to be early when Sam and Bobby finally depart for their beds. When they're gone Dean looks uncertain in a way he's never seen before, and says, "I'm gonna...just don't fly away, OK?", and he nods, not understanding. Not until Dean moves close to him, and leans even closer, slowly, until their lips meet.

He dreams of Dean's soul in his eyes, brighter and brighter as he chants Castiel's name.

When the dream fades Misha wakes slowly to find Jensen watching him with a smile that's all his, nothing at all of Dean Winchester in it. "Good dream?" he asks, and Misha nods. He stretches, yawns, and settles more comfortably into Jensen's side. There's a bar of sunlight falling over the bed and they'll have to get up soon, because there's make-up work to be done today, but for now he's going to stay right where he is.

"I think they're going to be OK," Misha says.

End

So this was supposed to be straight-up (uh...no pun intended) porn. I saw a prompt on LJ that was along the lines of "Misha can tell this isn't his boyfriend, but is that going to stop him from fucking him? Of course not." And I thought, heck, why not? I've never written slash, I'll give it a go.

Then it sprouted a plot, and characters who weren't caricatures, and twenty thousand words later it's done.

As far as I'm concerned, Team Free Will comes up with some horribly clever plan involving Gabriel's sword and some help from Kali to spike Raphael right in the face, and everyone lives happily ever after and there are no Leviathans ever ever EVER. So there.

And yes, there is going to be "What happened to J2 in Winchester-land". But I have other things that need to get done first.