New Year, new me. That's what you kept telling yourself at five in the morning, on vacation, wearing running shorts and a tank top. You grab your water bottle and sigh as you leave your hotel room and shut the door.
The morning air was cold and crisp, making you shiver but giving your sleep deprived system a much needed jolt awake. You weren't a runner. You were more of the "I'll start next week." - every week, type. So you soon ran out of breath and took a seat on a bench with a glorious view of the sun rising over the river in front of it. After a few minutes, you felt someone sit next to you, panting slightly - probably another morning runner.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" You asked, turning to face your companion,
"Yeah, it's one of my favourite places to jog, actually." Replied the man. As he said the words, you recognised the voice, and looked up to match the body to your guess. He looked at you in the middle of your realisation and saw a wave of recognition wash over your face. You watched a flicker of a smirk as he realised you recognised him.
"You're Misha Collins." You stated, matter of factly,
"I am," He chuckled, "And you are (Y/N)(Y/L/N)."
You looked at him quizzically, before he pointed at the hand-written name-tag sticker on your shirt.
"Hey, that's cheating" You laugh, grinning. "My idiot friend stuck that on me before I got my plane here and I guess I forgot to take it off." You shrug and smile fondly at the memory.
"That's what I call a responsible friend," Misha laughs with you,
"She is, she's definitely the 'mom' of the group." You say,
"Oh yeah? What are you then?" he asks, teasing.
"Me? I'm the one who stares at sunrises and chats with strange men on benches." You reply, smiling at Misha.
"Well, I'm hardly a stranger, you recognised me as soon as you saw me didn't you?"
"Hm," You nod in agreement. After a few minutes of comfortable silence he suddenly jumps up, jogging bouncily on the spot,
"Gotta keep running, wanna join me?" He asks with an enticing grin.
"Thanks but I'd definitely just slow you down." You shake your head, smiling.
"Nahh," he says, still grinning as he grabs your hand and pulls you up. "You've got a runners' figure, you'll be fine." Misha starts dragging you away from the bench, gently but with purpose. You laugh and agree to run with him on the condition he doesn't laugh at you.
"Deal."
"You really weren't kidding, were you?" Misha asks, few hundred meters down the path, his smirk fiercely threatening to turn into full body laughter as he watches you lean against a tree, panting heavily t o catch your breath.
"Don't you dare, you promised Collins!" You exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"I wouldn't dare!" He put his hands up, feigning innocence. After a moment of contemplation he says, "We could go get a coffee instead, if you want."
"That sounds... More like my thing." You say with a grin and straighten up to follow Misha. "Do you know any good places?" You ask, "You might have guessed I'm not from around here."
"Yeah, I know a place that does really good blueberry muffins, and if you get there early enough there's a fantastic view of the sunrise." He replies enthusiastically.
"Mm, we'll have to go see that sometime." You say, thoughtfully,
"Sounds good."
The cafe's small and cosy, but as Misha said, it has a wonderful view. You're staring out the window, absorbed in the scenery when you're startled out of your trance by Misha handing you a coffee and a blueberry muffin - which you hadn't asked for.
"Thanks," You say, reaching for your bag, and it dawns on you that it is, of course, still in your hotel room. "Shit." You mutter, looking around.
"What's wrong?" Misha asks, concerned,
"I left my bag with my purse in it in my hotel room." You say almost guiltily, Misha waves a hand, dismissively.
"Don't worry, it's on me." He says with a warm smile.
"Oh, thank yo- oh." You pause, mid-sentence, frowning. "My room keys are in that bag too." You think out loud.
"We can sort it out with the hotel, I'm sure they'll let you back in." he says, shrugging.
"Hopefully, but I don't have any ID either," your frown deepening,
"Well you have that-" Misha points to your name tag and you both start laughing. Once the laughter's subsided, he says, smiling, "If they don't let you in, I'll break the door down." He shows his sincerity by flexing his arm muscles and faux-scowling. Misha makes you laugh, you like him.
In the end, Misha drives you back to your hotel and gets the manager to let you back in your room with ease. You walk in the door and he stands awkwardly, dithering on the threshold.
"You're welcome to come in." You say, gesturing to the room, "My humble abode, it's no Buckingham Palace but it's pretty cosy." You point at the pile of clothes on a chair and the un-made bed, chuckling.
"Hey, no judgement here," Misha says, closing the door behind him. "Hell, I lived in a campsite for four months." He laughs,
"Oh really? That's nothing compared to the time I slept up a tree for a week in a peaceful protest." You laugh, stripping off your tank top to reveal a sports bra.
"Imma take a quick shower, if you don't mind."
"No, go ahead I've got a phone call to make anyway." he replied. You had been known on occasion to make people uncomfortable with your varying degrees of nudity, but so far Misha had seemed un-phased. While you were showering, you heard Misha's muffled voice through the wall. You weren't trying to eavesdrop per se, but you had a knack for 'collecting information you weren't stritly supposed to know'. You heard him greet Vicki - his wife, but after that you forced yourself to stop listening, the conversation seemed private. You wash and step out the shower, looking around you see a vast absence of towels. You sigh, check your appearance in the mirror and go the door. You pause as you remember the many times your friends and acquaintances have shouted and thrown various items of clothing at your nakedness. You knock,
"Misha? Are there any towels out there?" You call softly,
"Uhh, I can't see any. Do you want me to get you one?" He asked,
"Nah, it's fine by me, there should be one in my bag," you hesitate, "I'll come get it." You open the door and laugh as Misha looks at you, double-takes and then turns his back, embarrassed.
"Uh, sorry, I didn't realise you were, gonna-" He mumbles awkwardly,
"I don't mind." You say, casually, walking over to your bag and finding the towel buried in it's depths. Misha continues facing the wall, until you walk up to him, wrapped in a towel and lightly touch his shoulder. He jumps, startled,
"You can turn around now." You giggle at his reaction and he chuckles in response, you notice his eyes flicker down your body and your turn to find clean underwear - swaying your hips just slightly as you walk away from him, and bend over to rummage through your bag. He clears his throat and shifts a little where he's standing. You drop your towel baring your back completely and you can practically hear his blush. You slowly put on your panties and then your bra and turn back to face Misha. You smirk as you notice he's sitting down now, one leg crossed across the other and you throw on your robe but leave it untied. You sit near him and both fall quickly into easy conversation. About midday he tells you he's got some stuff to do, but you exchange numbers and promise to meet up before you go back home.
"How long are you staying in Bellingham?"
"Not sure." You reply, "Haven't got a return ticket, I'm pretty much just here to explore."
"Well I could show you some great places to explore." Misha said, then added, almost shyly, "Y'know, if you want."
"I'd love that," You beamed, "Hey Misha, thanks for the coffee."
