TWITTER ➵ cockles

➢ forty nine

this takes place several days later

~~~~~

There was a knock on Misha's apartment door. He glanced up at the door for a moment, letting out a small sigh. He got up from the couch reluctantly, running a hand through his already messed up hair. He hadn't bothered combing it that morning, so it was sticking out all over the place.

He unlocked the door and opened it to reveal the one person he wanted to talk to the least in the world.

Jensen.

"Hey there." He greeted him, taking in Misha's appearance. Jensen wasn't going to lie; he looked like shit. His hair was messed up, there were bags under his eyes, he was in some old t-shirt, and a pair of gray sweats.

"Go away." He mumbled, moving to close the door.

The taller man had wedged his foot between the door and the frame, preventing the door from closing all the way. "Misha, give me a minute. I want to talk to you."

"Why should I let you?"

He hesitated for a second before answering. "You don't want to listen to me. I get it. I understand you're tired of me bugging you. But if you let me talk for two minutes, I promise I'll leave you alone afterwards if you still want me to."

Misha contemplated it for a minute. He really didn't want to let Jensen talk and explain himself. But at the same time, he was offering to leave him alone if he let him talk for a couple of minutes.

After a few seconds of debating mentally, he gave a slow nod. "Fine. You have two minutes to explain, then you're leaving." He didn't open the door any wider, but he also loosened his grip on the doorknob a little bit.

Jensen took a deep breath. "First off, I want to tell you how sorry I am. When I went to that party, I had no intention on getting drunk. We had work the next day, so I didn't want to deal with a hangover the next day. Someone handed me a beer and the next thing I knew I was drunk.

"After the first beer, the next few went down pretty easy. And before I knew it, I was drunk. I'm not going to deny it, because that's stupid, but I will admit that I did have feelings for Danneel while we were costars. I promise now that I don't like her anymore. I don't have feelings for her anymore.

"Danneel and I were talking. We were both laughing and making jokes with each other. She was drunk and so was I. She pulled me in for a kiss. That's when the paparazzi snapped that picture of us. They weren't supposed to be there, but they were.

"I pulled away a few seconds later. My brain was hindered by the alcohol, so it took me a while to process what had just happened. I told her that I was in a relationship with you. She said that you were very open with your relationships and that it was fine if you guys shared me. At that point, she led me off somewhere, I think the bathrooms, and started making out with me. My brain told me she had a point. You did have open relationships and that you would be fine with this so it must be okay. We made out for a few minutes before someone interrupted us." He paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"Skipping to the next day, I woke up back at my apartment. I had Clif take me back. And no, I did not bring her with me. Anyway, I woke up and decided to check the news to see what was going on in the world. That's when I saw the picture. That's when I messaged you." They stared into each other's eyes. Misha felt like he was unable to look away.

"These past two weeks have been pretty bad for me. I can imagine they've been a lot worse for you." He took a deep breath. "I really want to make it up to you. 7:30 tonight. I'll pick you up. If you don't answer the door later, I'll know you want me to leave you alone." Jensen looked at him for another minute. "Well, hopefully I'll see you tonight." He moved his foot from between the door and doorframe. He turned around and left.

The door slipped shut, and Misha stared at the dark wood for a few seconds.

What the hell was he going to end up doing?