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

Chapter Forty-Seven

"When we get back," Misha murmurs, lips moving across my jaw as he presses gentle kisses along it. "I'm going to take such good care of you. Gonna clean you out, nice and slow..." He presses the lightest of kisses to the sweat-soaked patch of skin just below my collarbone, and my eyes flutter shut. "We'll take a nice, warm shower and snuggle in bed-"

"Shower sex," I plead succinctly into the crease of his neck. I'm all sorts of down for post-crazy-night cuddles under a warm comforter in every variety of spooning there is, but it's been too long since I last had Misha. The buildup to this has been fucking insane, and the thirst is real.

"Hmm," Misha noses in along my jaw, "good thing we've still got those instant refractory periods going for us then."

With great reluctance, he unglues our bodies and rises shakily to his knees. "Come on, my horny better half." Misha extends his hand to help me up with a twitch of his lips. "The others will be worried."

His grip is gentle, like he's handling fine China. Don't wanna, I barely refrain from whining. Despite negative desire to stand up right now, I go easily like a rag doll. Misha rewards me by dropping kisses to the insides of my wrists and my palms, because apparently I'm all kinds of fragile right now.

"Yeah," Misha croons, completely supporting my limp body. "My thoughts." He sighs ruefully. "Someone's not gonna be sitting tomorrow..."

"Don't pretend you don't know exactly what gets me off," I scowl around a weak little groan. I could never regret wrestling in the mud with this man.

"Don't pretend tomorrow morning that I didn't warn you." White teeth gleam through Misha's chapped lips, framed by a layer of drying mud caked all over his face.

My skin feels tacky and itchy from sweat and the grime that I'm wearing like a set of clothes under the real clothing Misha helps me back into. I can't really walk straight, and that's understandable, given the pounding my ass just took. I'm always a little bowlegged, but right now I'm just a stiff bag of potatoes with my head lolled against Misha's shoulder as we trek back up the path to the cottage, rubbing my cheek against the sleeve of his shirt and emitting these weird little mumbled yawns while he navigates the way. Strong brown arms wrap around me, flexing, melding seamlessly with a crusted shirt. The gritty muck on our clothes rubs off on each other.

The trail back to the cottage is shrouded in darkness, save for the glimmering stars peeking through the cover of trees. The firelight has been reduced to faintly glowing embers in the distance, a beacon that guides us back through the night. 

I know I look like a piece of shit with a face. And I'm so tired and hungry. And it feels like my bones are made of jelly. But I'm also loose-limbed and smiling and my insides are all loopy and I'm practically glowing, because I've never been happier in my life.

Misha stills suddenly and his nose twitches, making little flecks of dirt chip off the tip as his gaze fixes on a stray point just off the path.

"That is so cute!" He gasps, dropping to his hands and knees to approach a tiny creature. "It's a baby rabbit," he declares, watches the small thing in awe.

My stomach tightens at the sight of him burrowing closer to the fluffy, shivering mass. He extends a forefinger to the bunny's head, and I swear I fall in love with him all over again. The baby rabbit's got nothing on my baby. My fiancé. Shit, when I say it like that...

Something in my ribs pinches tight, searing itself into my chest and burning hot with the realization that Misha Collins is Misha fucking Collins and I'm the one he deemed worthy to spend the rest of his life with. This goddamn gorgeous son of a bitch wants to give it all up to me, and it's going to be a long time before that stops blowing my mind.