In Your Blue Eyes. For seekthesilence
Mish // Body Language
Jensen giggled at something Misha had said, leaning back with him on the couch, entirely ignoring some movie that he couldn't even remember the title to.  Why had they put it on, anyway?  One of Misha's hipster arthouse flicks, maybe, something he'd wanted to show Jensen.  The important part here was that they were drinking rum and cokes, they were both fairly sloshed, and that Jensen had completely lost track of what they had even been talking about not seconds before.

"No, man, it's a- a thing.  With the... you know."

No, Misha probably didn't know, actually, but that detail was entirely lost on Jensen.  What had they even been talking about?  Jen peered into the murky soup that was his mind and tried to recover the thread of the conversation.  His head was on Misha's shoulder, and Jensen hardly seemed to have noticed, just idly nuzzling into the other actor as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  If he'd been sober, he would have stopped the second he'd realized what he was doing, but drunk, Jensen's mind offered up some pathetic excuses, like how it was Misha's fault for being so fucking comfy.

Jensen didn't really see himself as gay, despite that he'd never been particularly enthralled by women.  It had always somehow been easier to just think that he was more interested in other things, like his career.  So, if he'd been sober, there would have been a very quick extraction of himself from the situation, and probably an awkward apology.  Instead, there was his head on Misha's shoulder, a rum and coke in one hand, and the other resting at the other man's side.

"I'm just not sure, that's all."

Words kept coming out from between his pretty lips, but he still had really no idea what they'd been talking about five minutes before.  Something on Twitter?  The rainforest?  Dolphins?  He really didn't have the foggiest.  The smart thing to do would have been to shut the hell up, but Jensen was drunk enough that the smart thing really no longer had anything to do with him.  On the upside, they had a whole week off from shooting, so it wasn't like he had to worry about being on set tomorrow.

Jensen finally caught back up to his train of thought, and, more importantly, the conversation they'd been having.  The one about Dean and Castiel's rather intimate-seeming relationship.  There was a warm flush over his cheekbones that brought out the freckles on his cheeks as he shook his head, turning so that he was kind of talking into Misha's collarbone.

"Well, uh, I dunno.  I mean, just 'cause, you can bond to someone without the stuff in between."

Jensen was trying to say something about how you could have a profound bond without banging someone's brains out, but he was ridiculously drunk and the words kept falling out all wrong.  Turned out that even just drinking rum and coke that Jensen's alcohol tolerance was hilariously low.  He didn't drink a lot, okay?

"I mean we- there's a thing.  And just because you're pretty doesn't mean we, you know."

Abandon All Hope
Fuck Me
They had a new guest star.

This was usually an excuse for hijinks, for boisterous feeling out of the new addition, good-natured verbal swipes, maybe a prank or two, Misha tweeting something for his minions.  Except that Jensen recognized the man.  Recognized the figure they walked onto set in a suit that accented his broad shoulder far too well from a party almost a year past that had involved lines like my place or yours.  And Jen being uncomfortably honest with the man about the sort of things he liked.  And they'd made a far shake at trying to fit it all into one night; needless to say there hadn't been a whole lot of sleeping involved.

And now here he was, on set, cast as a demon where the director was encouraging him to make heavy, innuendo-landen glances at Jensen.  He'd forgotten his name until the round of introductions, but he'd remembered his body.  Thankfully the wide-eyed, uncomfortable bit was actually rather in-character for the scene, because Jen didn't think he could have pulled off anything else under the circumstances.  He still ended up screwing a few lines, because, really, when Mark started talking about do you know how deep I could have buried this thing the first few times, it was hard for Jensen to remember he was supposed to be talking about a gun and not his cock.

Needless to say, when they finally wrapped the scene, Jensen bolted for his trailer, not even bothering to stop by wardrobe first.  He was just gonna go hide until the next call.
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