Could We Take A Walk (A Sort of Fairy Tale 2/14)

Title: A Sort of Fairy Tale
Chapter: Two: Could We Take A Walk
Author:
Fandom: SPN RPS
Pairing: Jensen/Misha
Warning/spoilers: None.
Word Count: 1100
Rating: PG
Summary: Misha loves Jensen. Jensen is … getting there.
Chapter two summary: Misha doesn’t want to be the ingénue in this scenario, anyway, though he’s happy to have Jensen be the leading man.
Notes: Thank you to for beta.

day two: athletics

Even though they filmed all night and will film tonight as well, Misha decides he misses Jensen too much to wait. He buys doughnuts and coffee for three, takes it to Jared and Jensen’s house and rings the bell. The dogs respond first, barking madly behind the door, and finally Jared answers, blinking sleepily like a giant toddler. Misha holds out his share of Tim Horton’s as a peace offering.

“Should I get Jensen?” says Jared, still blinking and scratching and rubbing his eyes. When he’s like this, Misha wants to adopt him. He must have been adorable in footie pajamas.

“I’ll wake him up. I just didn’t want you to feel left out.”

Jared takes the doughnuts and coffee, mumbles that Misha is a prince among men, and shuts the door. Misha can hear him scold the dogs, but there are enough doughnuts in the bag for them to have some too.

Misha goes around to the back of the house, to where he knows Jensen’s room is. He throws pebbles at the window until it opens, and Jensen peers down at him.

Misha holds up the other Tim Horton’s bag. “I brought brunch.”

“Of course you did,” says Jensen. “Are you coming up or am I coming down?”

“If you come down we can go for a walk. If I come up we can make out.”

“I’ll come down.” Jensen shuts the window.

Misha  drinks his coffee while he waits, and gives Jensen the remaining cup when Jensen joins him. “What about that walk you promised?” Jensen says as he has his first sip.

“This way,” Misha says, and they both amble from the back yard to the street that meanders through the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood. They sip coffee and share doughnuts, and Misha doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. The sound of wind through the trees, the distant shouts of children, the occasional purr of a car engine — the neighborhood tells its own story, one that briefly opens to include the two of them.

Jensen’s long legs cover the sidewalk in a slow lope. Misha imagines him a hundred and fifty years ago, a cowpoke in Texas in workworn jeans and boots run down at the heel, a lasso at his side and guns at his hips . . .

“Was this what you planned?” Jensen asks and Misha snaps out of the daydream. He couldn’t figure out how to fit himself in, anyway. Cowboys in love has been done.

“This is exactly what I planned.”

“Walking and eating doughnuts?’ says Jensen, wry.

“It’s good to walk.” They pass a little park built in a nook between one big turn-of-the-century house and another, no more than a swing set and a picnic table and a little sketch of grass. Misha nods to it. “Or sit. Sit and eat doughnuts.” He opens the gate and takes off his sneakers to feel the cool grass between his toes as he crosses the tiny park to the table.

Jensen follows and sits on the table at Misha’s side.  He looks out at the neighborhood, the coffee cup dangling from his fingers. His hands are not as big as Jared’s, but they’re still good hands, calloused, strong.

Misha looks up from Jensen’s hands to meet his eyes. Jensen is smiling. “This is nice,” he says. “This was a good idea.”

“It’s just coffee and a walk.”

“Sometimes the simplest things are the best.” He holds up his coffee cup and Misha bumps their cups together.

“To simplicity.”

They drink. Jensen looks out at the neighborhood again, and puts the cup on the bench between his feet. He puts his hand on his knee, and then on the table beside Misha’s. He sighs in a way that says, “Oh, all right, if it’ll make you happy.”

Misha smiles. Takes Jensen’s warm hand in his and weaves their fingers together. Watches the breeze make the swings sway and holds Jensen’s hand.

*

Misha walks Jensen home. It’s like being on a first date — not just a first date with a new person, but a first date ever, like when your parents drove you to the fun center so you could go roller skating and hold your date’s hand to a slow song.

They stand in front of the door, looking at each other. Jensen says, “Do you want to come in?” nodding to the door behind him.

“What would we do?” Misha climbs up another step so they’re closer to eye-level.  In the movie version of their story, Jensen would be on the bottom step so Misha would only have to lean forward to kiss him. He’d hold Jensen’s face between his hands and kiss him slowly. Maybe even lift a leg up behind him, though he’d never understood why ingénues did that when they kissed the leading man.

Misha doesn’t want to be the ingénue in this scenario, anyway, though he’s happy to have Jensen be the leading man.

Jensen suggests, “We could play with the dogs and make fun of Jared.”

Misha laughs. “As much fun as that usually is, I think I’ll pass this time.”

“Next time.” He squints at Misha. “You mellow me out, you know?”

“That is the sweetest thing,” Misha says, and Jensen ducks his head, smiling.

“You start dating someone, you start talking like a Hallmark card.”

“So we are dating,” says Misha.

“We’re dating.” Jensen looks up at him, all cheekbones and big, emotive eyes. Misha traces a line on Jensens’ cheek with his fingertip, but without numbers to follow the message is still unclear.

Jensen closes his eyes, and opens them when Misha takes his hand away. “You’re a mystery,” Misha admits. “I’m still learning to read you.”

“That’s only fair, ’cause I don’t get you at all.” Jensen looks away again. “But I’m trying.”

“Good. I don’t want to be misunderstood.” Jensen laughs at that, and Misha decides it’s time to go. It’s a “leave them wanting more” kind of moment. He hugs Jensen around his neck and whispers in his ear, “Next time you can buy the doughnuts,” and Jensen nods and pats his back.

Misha nearly hops down the steps, he feels so good, and then turns when Jensen follows and calls, “Hey, Misha!” His arms go easily around Jensen’s neck again when Jensen catches hold of him and kisses him.

Jensen’s mouth is sweet like powdered sugar, earthy like coffee.

“See you later,” Jensen says when he steps away, and then he’s up the steps and into the house, greeted loudly by the dogs.

Misha almost follows him up the steps, wanting one more kiss; but he just murmurs, “Next time,” and goes to his car.

Thank you
It was great
Let’s make another date
Real soon
In the afternoon
♪ “Could We”—Cat Power