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

Chapter Forty-One

This time, I intercept the alarm and let Jensen go back to sleep while I hit the trail.

I'm wearing shorts that don't mold to my ass, because apparently hell hath no fury like Jensen when someone gives said part of me a lewd onceover within a fifty mile radius of him. And if they chance a playful slap, Jensen flinches like the blow is to his very soul.

I'm genuinely sorry for the poor, deluded bastard, because he clearly thinks my ass is made of solid freaking gold and engraved with his name.

When I return to my trailer, drenched in sweat and panting heavily, Jensen's still looking like a demigod lying on the bed.

I absolutely don't stare at him.

At all.

After a quick shower, I towel off and change into clean clothes. I move quietly around the room, retrieving my laptop and charger cord. As I tiptoe past the bed, however, I can't help but glance furtively at Jensen out of the corner of my eye.

One of his arms is thrown behind his head and his jaw is relaxed, forehead smooth. His chest and abdomen are flushed pink with sleep and his honey-coloured hair is softly mussed, a stark contrast against the white pillows.

I'm not ready for this moment. I never expected to experience it. But here it is, nonetheless: the early dawn light bathing Jensen Ackles' naked torso, my sheets tangled in his legs. I shiver at my luck.

I should wake him up and smuggle him the hell out of here before someone notices. I should at least pull the blanket up around him; those boxers are slung perilously low on his pretty hips.

I swallow and walk resolutely to the kitchenette.

At the table, I drop my hands to my laptop, taking my frustration out on the keys as I pound out my search term.

But I can't stop peeking over the screen at Jensen: a nagging, flesh-and-blood reminder of how fucking screwed I am.

I stand up and sit back down in the chair facing away from the bed.

It doesn't help.

The minutes seem to crawl by at a glacial pace and, after a while, I stand up again. I spin around, grabbing frantically at my hair. I tug, hard, but the pain does nothing to ground me, fear and dread clogging my throat.

I'm headed for the biggest fucking fall of my life; I've been falling for what feels like forever now and I can't even see bottom. Misha, stop stop stop stop-

"Zero to sex hair in five seconds." The sound of Jensen's low, gravelly voice jolts me out of my Deep Thought Territory. "That's my Mish."

I grip the edge of the table with whitening knuckles as Jensen yawns, sitting up and scratching absentmindedly at his bare stomach.

Shit, you're so beautiful, Jensen... Do me hard-

Huh?

"Morning," I blurt.

Slowly, he pulls back the blanket and clambers to his feet, blinking the sleep from his eyes.