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

Chapter Forty-Nine

I keep the car at eighty and let the wind whip through the interior as I drive to Jensen's.

I left the airport hours ago. It's eight in the evening now; the stereo is off and I'm lulled by the hypnotic sounds of the Malibu roads through the open windows.

My desire to see Jensen spikes. I miss the warm spark that flows between us whenever we occupy the same space, the thread of common yearning and affection we've shared for the last month. Almost five weeks of waking up next to him, and I still shiver at my luck.

Each hurried, desperate tryst with Jensen echoes hours of suppressed longing, making up for lost time and the difficult task of masking our forbidden relationship to the public. We're a little scared, a lot hungry, and possibly insane with desire. And the double shot of testosterone guarantees that it's never, ever been vanilla again since the hotel.

It was never like this with Vicki. Which is probably a good thing, because I'm too old for the excitement, for the rushes of adrenaline and the blistering kisses and the scorching heat of deprivation until skin meets skin again in the cover of darkness. She would literally, physically, break.

Anytime, anywhere, no matter how exhausted, we seize every opportunity to spend another stolen moment in each other's arms. Hotel rooms, washrooms, our trailers, the freaking woods - doesn't matter.

People are used to us sneaking off together. Occasionally, some new guy will notice, frown, and ask what's the meaning of this, to which he or she is typically met with a very deadpan the meaning is that they be fuckin'. Like the others couldn't give less of a shit. Or maybe they're just so convinced it isn't true that joking about it comes ridiculously easy. Oh, Jensen and Misha? They're totally just two bros bro-ing it up platonically. Just a couple of bros who about break the bed every night...platonically. Right.

I let the sensation of the road, the mild wind, overwhelm my senses. I'm thankful for the drive, as it clears my head. But all too soon, Jensen's mansion comes into view and I feel my nerves ratcheting up again. You've been here a hundred thousand times, Misha; this visit shouldn't be any different.

But I wasn't having an affair all those times.

It's 9:03 P.M. when I arrive, and the golden lights of the mansion are warm and beckoning. I park in my usual spot, Jared's car pulling in behind me.

I'm road-weary and atypically subdued, but I brighten when I see Jensen and Dani waving from the front steps. I lift the fingers of my right hand from the wheel and wave back.

Jensen's at the window before I can remove my key from the ignition, and I catch myself right before my gaze drops the length of his body. Dani is greeting Jared and Gen.

"Hey, how were the roads?" He rests his arms in the open window, face mere inches from mine. Jensen went home early to help Dani prepare the house for our visit, so I haven't seen him in a few days. Our first moments back are anything but private, so I can't exactly leap into his arms.

"Not bad," I mumble, glancing at my GPS.

I relish the brief whiff of cologne as he leans in close to my ear, shiver when our breaths mingle in the inch of air separating us. If I tip my face forward one, maybe two-

"The second I get the chance," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "I'm going to get reacquainted with that smoking hot ass of yours."