That's When We Uncover [Jensen Ackles + Misha Collins | Cockles | mxm]

Chapter Thirty-One

I stop breathing.

I lose the ability to inhale oxygen, because the most beautiful man I've ever seen has just materialized in the doorway, grabbing my heart in a chokehold. I try to suck air into my lungs but it feels too thick, too heated, and I can't seem to catch my breath. Suddenly my lips feel dry, brittle, and I lick them slowly as Jared stands up to give Misha a hug.

I try to stand up as well, but a crippling rush of longing sweeps over me, gripping my insides and twisting, and my legs feel uselessly weak like melted rubber. And I try to say something, anything, but my brain is short-circuiting, synapses fried. The words die on my lips.

My eyes travel slowly from his tousled, dark hair, to the alluring stubble framing his taut lips, to the delicious glimpse of skin bared by the open collar of his black shirt. It presses snugly against the mouthwatering planes of his chest and abdomen, curving around the swells of his biceps, the hem skirting around a delicious hipline. My eyes follow a searing path from those slim hips to firmly toned thighs, thighs that would grip my sides just so in the throes of passion, letting me know when I was doing a good job.

Their conversation is a mere buzzing in my ears, nothing registering except the gravelly timbre of Misha's voice, and what little room was left in my jeans vanishes with a pulse and a throb. Fuck, he's got me falling right back.

And suddenly it vanishes: all of the anguish that ripped at my soul, leaving it tattered and torn; the pain that wound around my gut like barbed wire, cutting, ripping; that sense of teetering on the bare edge of sanity, about to plummet into the dark depths of despair...none of it matters anymore. Misha may have ripped and slashed through my heart, leaving it in bloody shreds, but he's still the love of my life, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. He's here, and that's all that matters.

A shudder rolls through my body, heart trembling against my ribs as I ogle him. He's chatting with Jared now, relaxed, oblivious to my desire to fuck him until he dies. And that cologne. That achingly familiar scent I've been inhaling from his clothing, now fills my lungs, and I inhale it like a man dying for his next fix.

Vaguely, I register Jared asking me if I'm okay. I try to reassure him, but the knot in my throat swells, thick and tight, squeezing off my words.

Then Misha's turning back towards the door, the new angle awarding me a delicious glimpse of his backside, and suddenly Jen and Sen are shimmering, my eyes blurring. Emotion grips me, tightness squeezing my throat.

They're so beautiful. And somehow, impossibly, tighter than when I last saw them. That is one fucking sweet ass you have, Misha, I think fondly. I will not be getting over it.

It dawns on me as Misha hovers in the doorway that he's leaving, probably heading back to his trailer after popping in to say hello. I shoot upwards out of my chair, my knees jerking, unstable, threatening to give out at any moment.

"I'll walk you," I offer breathlessly.

Jared's head whips around to face me and I see Misha's jaw tense almost imperceptibly, the guard lowering on his face. He's clearly trying to avoid being alone with me, probably afraid of the conversation entering heavier territory. Misha chuckles short.

"You don't have to do that; it's just right around the-"

"I want to," I smile rather breathily. "I'll just, uh-" I pitch forward, slamming my hip against the edge of the table as I attempt to skirt around it, "-fuck." I rush clumsily over to the entrance, bending down to put on my shoes.

Seeing that Misha hasn't moved, I laugh nervously. "Come on, I have to head out anyway. We can...catch up on the way."

Misha studies me warily for a beat, before nodding once. Jared stands up to see us out the door.