AN: Hey y'all. I'm sorry for all the AN's at the beginning of every chapter and I'm sorry for not updating once a week. Hope y'all don't mind the delayed updates.
Well I will be at boarding school for the next four weeks and I don't know if I'll find time to write (maybe on the weekends, but we shall see).
I honestly don't know why you guys read it, since my writing is horrible and there are better fanfics out there.
Have fun reading it x
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"Misha," Jensen called when he saw me leaving my trailer.
It was six in the morning and I've just got here. I don't know how much caffeine was running through my veins, but it was enough to keep me awake.
I've started feeling weird when we've finished shooting yesterday. Not sure if it's been the hangover, but when I woke up this morning I wanted to stay in bed, drink a hot tea and maybe take a bath later.
I took a sip from my coffee - if I wanted to function, this was the only way - and looked at Jensen. He came running, a huge smile on his face. How could he be so filled with energy at this satanic time?
"Hey," I said weakly as he stood in front of me.
He put a warm hand on my shoulder, supporting me. "You okay?" His eyes wandered over my face down my neck, before he snapped back to look into my eyes.
I felt a shiver running up my spine, making my neck hot - hotter than I could take right now. The dream I've had about him was still present behind my eyelids.
I cleared my throat. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just feeling a little ill," I said, looking everywhere but Jensen's face.
The warmth of his hand left my shoulder. I sighed, again.
He squirmed. "Are you sure you can work today? Because last time," he trailed off and put his hand on my forehead, trying to say if I had fever or not. Jensen coughed slightly, smirking at the memory. "Well, last time things got really ugly."
I shook his hand off my head and took a step back, suddenly feeling angry. It was none of his business. "Well, why do you care anyway?"
Jensen startled, swallowing hard. "I, uh ... Because you're my friend."
"Right. See you on set."
I turned on my heel and went back inside my trailer. What the hell was going on with me. There had been nothing to make me so angry at him. Jensen hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't his fault that I had those stupid dreams about him.
Why couldn't I just forget about the dreams? They kept on playing in my head. The intense stares, sweet kisses and rough touches. It was like a curse.
I sat down on my bed, covering my eyes with cold hands, letting the dream from last night pour over me.
A light knock and a "Hey can I come in" from Jensen made me jump a bit.
I was a mess, for no reason. I felt like Castiel, losing control about my ability to see clearly.
Another knock was heard before the door opened and Jensen popped his head between the door and wall. "Mish"
"I'm sorry," I said. "Had a rough night and an even rougher morning."
He stepped inside, sitting down next to me. "Wanna talk about it?" His deep, husky voice filled the room.
I shook my head. There was no way I'd ever tell him that. It would ruin our friendship even more. Especially since he knew I've had things with men before, even though I had Vicki. It was an agreement between me and her. She once said, she liked seeing me being loved by someone else.
This woman was gold.
"You can talk about it whenever you feel like it's appropriate." He sank down my bed, crossing his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "I'm waiting."
I groaned. "No, Jensen. I won't talk about it with you ... Ever."
Jensen raised one eyebrow. "So bad, huh?" He patted the place besides him, demanding me to lay down as well. "I need to tell you something, Misha."
Suddenly, a knot in my guts made my stomach hurt. "Okay," I breathed.
We've been lying there for a few minutes until he finally spoke up. "I had a dream about you," he said. His voice so quiet that I wasn't sure if I've heard it correctly. He turned on his side and chuckled, stupidly. "If I wasn't married and straight, I'd fuck you here and now."
I choked and sat up straight. My breathing doubled and I felt myself hyperventilating. This was stupid. He was just kidding. My pants got uncomfortably tight anyway.
And then there was a hand on my back. "Mish," he breathed. "Are you okay?"
"S-stop calling m-me Mish." I wanted to slap myself for my shaky voice.
"So I'm not the only one who's dreams about us. It must be this Destiel thing."
"Uh-huh." I took a deep breath. "We should go now."
_
When Castiel arrived at the bunker, it as empty. There was no Winchester to be found. He hadn't been gone for that long, had he? The angel check every room again, but nothing.
As he went inside Dean's room for like the millionth time, he saw a note lying on the pillow. He took the thin paper between his fingers and unfolded it.
'We're on a hunting trip. Join or don't. Leave my bed clean. -Dean'
Castiel pulled his eyebrows together. Why would he want to make Dean's bed dirty? He swallowed hard as he realized what he meant.
Suddenly his phone went off and pulled him out of his imagination before it would escalate. Dean was calling.
"Dean."
"Hey. What do you know about, um, the first blade?"
Castiel tilted his head, even though he was aware that Dean couldn't see him. "Why are you asking?"
He heard someone scream in the background and then Dean's chuckle. "Good, Sammy-"
"It's Sam!"
Castiel sighed.
"Alright, because we're in trouble and the first blade is the only thing that will help us."
"I will contact my brothers and let you know."
Without saying 'goodbye' they ended the phone call.
Dean threw his phone to the backseat and focused on the street. They were already two hours away from the bunker.
He had been praying for Castiel a few times, but he hadn't gotten an answer. So, when his little brother came into his room, telling him about someone called Abadon he had given up on reaching his angel.
Sam was on his phone and had several books lying in his lap, making researches on that said woman and the first blade.
Dean looked at his brother and smiled, proudly. He had raised him better than expected. If there was one thing Dean Winchester was good at, it would be family (and hunting and loving and killing and fighting and saving, but he'd never admit that).
Suddenly a british accent coming from the backseat, made both the Winchesters jump. Dean almost left the road and hit a tree.
He looked into the reviewmirror.
"Crowley," he hissed. They hadn't seen him in ages.
The demon, well king of hell actually, smiled at them. "Boys."
"What do you want," Sam asked, voice sharp. Dean tightened his grip around the steering wheel, knuckles popping out white.
Crowley sighed, dramatically and threw his hands in the air. "Am I not allowed to see my best enemies?"
"Enemies," Dean growled. "What do you want, Crowley."
"I want you to kill Abadon."
Of course. That made no sense. She was a demon as well. Why would Crowley want her dead? "We will."
"Good. Do whatever it takes to kill her. Even use the first blade." The man on the backseat smirked. "I'll contact you soon." He straightened his coat. "Oh and Dean ... You smell like that trench coat."
The eldest Winchester cursed inside."Wait!" But Crowley was gone.
He looked at his younger brother who was just as surprised as him. "Did he mention the first blade?"
"Yes he did." Sam massaged his temples. "What did we get ourselves into, Dean?"
The blonde man shrugged his shoulders, desperately praying for Castiel to come and help (and maybe comfort him and kiss him and ...)
The Winchesters arrived far after midnight at a motel. To their surprise, Castiel was waiting for them at the parking lot. Dean flashed him a smile but immediately dropped it when he saw Castiel's serious face.
"What's the news, Cas," Sam asked.
"You don't want to get the first blade, do you?"
Dean licked his lips. "Um," he swallowed hard, trying to ignore the knot in his throat. "Of course we want to get it."
"Don't!"
The Winchesters both took a step back, scared of Castiel's intense gaze.
Sam patted Dean's back. "I'm going to get some rest now. You can argue about this with your lover. I'm to tired."
Castiel and Dean gave the younger Winchester a dead look, but Sam just laughed and waved when he turned around and left to go inside the motel room.
The hunter sighed in relief as they were finally alone. He erased the space between them and took Castiel's face in his hands. "I missed you," he breathed against his lips.
The angel bit his lips, leaning in before he pushed Dean away - eyes angry. "Don't distract me," he warned.
"Cas, come on! We can talk about this later, okay?" Dean reached out for Castiel's body, but the angel just took another step back.
He shook his head. "I don't want you to do this. It will end bad. Dean, you don't know what you're getting yourself into."
"Explain," he said, grabbing Castiel's wrists. "Later."
Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes getting lost in green. "Dean,"
Whatever Castiel had wanted to say, Dean swallowed it with his lips on his.
"CUT!"
We pulled back from each other, but he didn't let me go. His left hand was still fisted in my hair and his right hand held me tight around my hips. He looked at me, hungrily.
"Jensen," I breathed, scared. We've both had heard the director scream cut, I knew that.
He blinked a few times and looked at me. His face was soaked with pure shock and excuse.
"Let me go," I said weakly. My lips still moist from his saliva.
Jensen dropped his hands, taking a few steps back. A weak smile played around his mouth. He nodded and left.
I took a deep breath.
What did just happen?
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Sorry for the short chapter. I hope you like it. If not, let me know!
THE GAY IS REAL