Nobody Sees, Nobody Knows [Jensen Ackles + Misha Collins | Cockles | mxm]

Chapter Eight

"Hey, Mark," I wave at the older man as he walks around the kitchen counter towards me. "How's it going, man?"

"Been better," he huffs wryly in that gravelly, accented voice. "Missing Sarah."

"Aww," I lift my glass to my lips. "How are she and the baby?"

"They're doing great," he replies, and I note the enthusiasm in his voice. Mark clearly loves his family; he's nothing like a certain demon named Crowley.

"Well, when do we get to see the new Sheppard?" I take a sip of my beer and swirl the amber liquid in my cup.

Jared's iPod is blasting throughout the cramped trailer on shuffle and I have to strain my ears to hear him over the classic rock.

"Soon, hopefully. Sarah's planning on flying out to the studio as soon a Isabella's old enough-"

"Hey guys," Jared beckons to the two of us. "Can I get some help over here?"

Tahmoh joins us and we give Jared a hand setting up chairs alongside the couches opposite the TV.

We all choose seats and sit back to watch the game. It's football, but I can barely follow what's happening on account of the boisterous atmosphere. There are a dozen of us actors, laughing and drinking and just clowning around.

Jensen gets up from his seat beside me on the couch.

"Hey, man." He knocks me gently on the jaw, dragging his knuckles across my cheek. His fingers are calloused and strong. "I'm gonna go get a refill." He holds up his empty glass. "You want more beer?"

I nod and hand him my own glass before turning to chat with Richard.

It's a fun evening; we talk and laugh and play the music too loud and get too drunk, but nobody cares. It's good to spend time with the guys like this. I've missed it.

At around 10 P.M., Jensen's ringtone goes off. I can tell from the mushy smile on his face that it's Danneel.

He gets up and leaves the trailer to take the call and I sigh.

I miss Vicki so much right now. I'll have to Skype her and the kids the first chance I get.

"Hey Misha," Jared plops down in Jensen's seat. "How's my sexy, Russian co-star?"

"Good," I smirk, tearing my eyes away from the game. "Did you get a chance to call Gen?"

"Yeah." There's that mushy smile again. "I miss her so much, you know?"

"Tell me about it."

After a few minutes of light conversation, Jensen comes back with our drinks and walks off to find another seat.

"Speaking of which," Jared takes a sip and stares thoughtfully after Jensen. The beer is a cheaper brand than what these guys can afford, but it fucks Jared up worse than anything else, so Jensen pours it every time we get together like this. "I guess that explains his weird behaviour."

"What, missing Dani? Yeah, probably."

"It's hard to be away from your wife like this, and if I know Jensen, he's not used to going without it for so long."

I smirk. And that explains the hard-on, as well as the generally foul mood.

Pretty soon, a couple of the other guys join in the conversation and I find myself relaxing as we discuss the season, the script, pranks and the like. I glean from Jensen's facial expressions and the animated way he talks about directing that that's what he wants to do after this show wraps up. He doesn't say as much, and I don't know if it'll be a movie or another show or what, but I have a feeling directing is in his future. I tip my head back and laugh heartily when Tahmoh accidentally spills his drink on Jensen's lap.

"I'm going to kill you," Jensen leaps to his feat, but immediately bursts into good-natured laughter, which sets everyone off.

With an amused glint in my eye, I sit back and enjoy the show as Jensen tackles Tahmoh to the ground.

"Popcorn anyone?" Mark quips, whipping out his phone to Tweet a picture of the wrestling match.

The two finally grow up and we resume watching the football game - or, in my case, scrolling through Twitter posts. This is interrupted by a brief gaming intermission wherein Osric makes the mistake of insulting Jared's precious new consoles - to which Jared screams don't you fucking blaspheme in my presence, how dare you - and the argument escalates such that the video game session must quickly be curtailed and replaced with more sports to diffuse the situation. Jensen's somehow at my side again, drunk off his ass, mumbling about the Cowboys. His nonsensical muttering about the pride and joy of Dallas trails off into a long yawn around 2 A.M. and he slides down the couch until his head lands in my lap.

He annoys me with an incessant litany of Misha...Misha...Misha until I snap at him to shut up, and then he's out just like that, instantly asleep. I don't even try to squirm out from under him, just continue to alternate my attention between the TV and my phone, and listen to his muted snoring. Jensen sleeps through the laughter and drunken ramblings of the cast, making soft little sleep noises into my crotch while I give him a back rub.

"Hate to be a party pooper," Osric finally yawns over the din. "But you guys have filming tomorrow..."

He's met by a chorus of disgruntled yawns and grumbles. I try to rouse Jensen but he only tightens his hold on my hip. After a few seconds, his eyes flutter open and those long, girlish lashes flutter in confusion as he stares up at my face. Up, I mouth. Jensen closes his eyes and burrows deeper against my crotch, humming something along the lines of fuck off. Which, fine. Okay. Guess I'm not getting up then.

"Alright everyone, timeforbed," Jared slurs. Mark flips over the back of the couch and hits the floor with a loud thump.

I groan, fingers running absently through Jensen's hair. "Can we just crash right here?"

Jared considers this for a moment before consenting. He brings out blankets and pillows and we set up makeshift beds on the couches and floor. I'd love to make myself more comfortable, but fuck if I can move a millimeter with Jensen's unyielding grip on my thigh.

With a yawn, Jared shuts off the TV and music before flicking the lights off as well. The entire place is swallowed in darkness.

"Night, everyone."