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

Chapter Forty-Three

The horrible silence stretches between us.

I swallow, try to get the words back, to bury them in my ribcage where they've been blooming for so long now. I try, but they're already gone. Floating out in the great wide space of Spoken, and is the room swaying or is that just me?

Jensen doesn't touch me or try to comfort me, just stands quietly for a long time with his lips slightly parted, and I screw my eyes shut in mortification.

"Okay," I ramble, face flaming with insecurity and self-loathing. "Um, I'm going to crawl over to that bathroom over there and curl up for a bit and then die, okay?"

He doesn't reply. The longer the silence goes on, the more the doubt steals in, extinguishing any hope I've been clinging to. Jensen doesn't want me. I chill to my core and begin to shake. "I'm sorry," I say miserably, because there's nothing else to say. My world is unhinging and all it took was one slip-up.

I rake a hand through my hair, trying to breathe, failing, looking everywhere but at Jensen, who's still strikingly quiet.

I'm suddenly tired. So terribly, terribly tired. I want nothing more than to collapse against Jensen's body, to let go of my own, to let somebody else hold up my weight for a while. I never should've-

"Say it again."

What? Jensen takes one small step into my personal space, resting his forehead lightly against mine. Heart pounding, I chance a brush of my lips on the soft curve of his jaw.

"No, it's..." I squeeze my eyes shut. "Look, I didn't-"

"Mish." He touches his lips to the pulse point fluttering just beneath my skin. "Wanna hear you say it again."

Jensen cradles my face in both hands, thumbs stroking gently across my cheekbones. And before I can overthink it, I tell him everything in just three words, whispered over and over against his lips, until the pressure of his mouth is almost bruising.

Jensen kisses me hungrily, gripping the back of my neck so our teeth clash. He vacillates between fervour and tenderness, mouth warm and bitter from too much coffee, but I lick into it gratefully, his teeth sharp as they drag along my lips. He wraps me in his arms and knots his fingers in my hair, messing it to a fury.

A part of me thinks that we should take it slow and easy. But it's been so agonizing, the road that brought us here. There have been too many missed chances, too much lost time, too many moments where we came so close and now... I crack, resolve crumbling, and press into Jensen, mouth hungry for more, more.

"Listen." He finally breaks away, just enough to ghost his lips softly over my forehead. "I'm not good at the romantic crap, okay? But I freaking want you so much, Misha, I don't know what to do." I shiver and he presses his thumb to my lips to silence me. "I don't - I've never - not for an another man." He kisses above each of my eyebrows. "I have everything. They all thing I'm so happy... But every day, every night, I'm thinking about you." Jensen drops a kiss over both my eyelids. "Mish." He kisses my cheek, my ear, whispers, "surely you know by now," and confesses, "I'm fucking in love with you."

I whimper when he drags my lower lip between his teeth, licking the sting away. My mouth is stale, lips chapped, and I know my cheeks are rough under his palms. He doesn't seem to mind.

Jensen's back is strong and muscled beneath my hands. I slide them underneath his shirt and greedily map its breadth with my fingers, raking my nails over his spine as our hips rut together. Desire flares in the centre of my chest, dissolving outward like a firework. And I know in this instant that I'm going to fit my mouth over him and go for broke.