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

Chapter Four

"Okay, Vick." I balance my phone between my shoulder and my right ear as I fumble with my keys. "Mhmm."

I lock up and hop down the steps leading from my trailer. That should do it. Hopefully I won't have any more surprises...

"And don't forget to Skype West soon," Vicki adds as I walk down the path for work. Besides the kiss, I'm only needed for close-ups today and a little ADR, with a stunt double taking on the fight scene scheduled in the afternoon.

"Like I could forget," I murmur fondly.

I see Jared walk out of his trailer in costume, coffee in hand.

He wiggles his eyebrows at me, no doubt trying to provoke me. I flip him off and shift my phone to my hand.

"Okay, Vicki; I gotta go."

"Bye, love you."

To my surprise, Jared extends his arm, offering me the coffee cup.

"Is this for real?" I stare at him in awe.

"Please accept this drink as a gesture of solidarity," he pouts contritely, and the Castiel reference isn't lost on me.

I smile wryly and pocket my phone before graciously accepting his gift.
I take a sip. "Two creams, two sugars. Just the way you like it."

I can already feel the hot, revitalizing caffeine surge through my veins, awakening my senses.

"Mmm, I officially owe you one, bro."

Jared slaps a hand onto my back and sidles closer as we walk towards the set.

"Then make it up to me by hanging with the guys at my place tonight."

"Beer and football?"

"Yep," Jared grins.

"Count me in."

***

As soon as we arrive on set, I know something's wrong.

The tension is so thick in the air I can practically smell it. Taking another sip from my coffee, I follow Jared towards a group of fellow cast members. They're huddled with their backs to us as we approach. Tahmoh, Osric, Mark, Jim and -

"Mish!" Ah, and that must be Jensen.

As we near, the men spring apart, and Osric smiles lopsidedly at me.

"Hey Misha. Jared."

I raise my eyebrows as the guys lower their gazes to their shoes and cough nervously.

Jensen looks cool and composed, but my schooled senses easily pick up the subtle clench of his jaw, the muscle twitching in his neck, the angry flush rising from his collar.

"What's going on?" Jared frowns and surveys the group with suspicion.

"Nothing," Jensen snaps. "These clowns were being immature, that's all."

Tahmoh has the grace to blush. Mark is learning what the lid of a coffee cup looks like.

"We're just trying to-"

"Shut up, Tahmoh."

Jared's eyebrows shoot up and he grins tentatively.

"Let me guess. Destiel?"

I sigh as Jensen's hands ball into fists at his sides by way of affirming Jared's theory.

I love these guys, but they can be such immature morons, and they're not helping the situation at all. Because for some reason that I'll never understand, this is actually a delicate issue. I'm the kind of person who's unashamed to shout from the rooftops that I ship it - no, luxury cruiseline it - but not everyone else is like that. The matter is so sensitive that we've actually deleted scenes that were too gay for the delicate palettes of some audience members.