Title: A Sort of Fairy Tale
Chapter: Eight: Since I Surrendered
Fandom: SPN RPS
Warning/spoilers: None. (The scene referred to in the chapter is purely speculation.)
Word Count: 1300
Summary: Misha loves Jensen. Jensen is … getting there.
Chapter eight summary: One sweet moment. They deserve it.
Notes: Thank you to for beta.
day eight: politics
The set is so quiet Misha could hear the film whirring in the camera, but he doesn’t stop staring into Jensen’s eyes. Jensen stares right back, breathing through parted lips, and Misha suspects that this will be one of those scenes that fans will shriek and write and obsess about for weeks, if they use this take.
“Cut,” Robert says finally and instantly the tension relaxes as crew members exhale and Jensen shrugs off Dean like taking off a shirt. Misha leans forward to lay his head on Jensen’s shoulder and support himself on Jensen’s solid form, and Jensen laughs and pats his back. His other hand rests, warm and gentle, on the back of Misha’s neck.
“You okay, darlin’?” he whispers into Misha’s ear, and Misha nods. Jensen rubs his neck and pats his back a minute more, and Misha straightens up and smiles.
“Okay. I’m ready to do this again.”
“Guys,” Robert says and puts his arms around both their shoulders. “You are getting it perfectly. You’re hitting it out of the park. But we’re going to do it one more time –”
“Of course,” Jensen murmurs and winks at Misha.
“And this time, I want you to — well, don’t be afraid to push it. You can’t go too far. I want to see where you take it. Are you okay with that?”
“You want Dean and Castiel to kiss,” Misha says.
“If that’s where the scene takes you, yeah.” He looks back and forth between them.
Jensen rubs the back of his head a moment, looking both uncomfortable and amused. “That’s going to make season six interesting.”
“We’ll deal with that when we get there. So, is it okay? Do you trust me with this?”
Jensen and Misha look at each other, and Jensen nods first. “Yeah. I think we do.”
“Good. Good.” Robert pats their backs again and goes back behind the camera, as Jensen and Misha go to their marks. Makeup artists fuss over them, brushing on more powder and arranging their hair — or messing it up further, in Misha’s case — and Misha looks over at Jensen to give him a small smile.
Jensen winks at Misha again. Misha never knew a wink could be reassuring, but he feels reassured.
That morning, when Misha arrived on the set, there was something waiting for him in his chair in the makeup trailer: a small stuffed pony with a blonde mane and a light brown coat. It had a note tucked under its blue leather halter (the handwriting is loopy and wide, feminine, which makes Misha suspect Jensen recruited Genevieve to write it) that said his name is Mort and he’s a long way from home, could Misha take care of him?
Mort the pony accompanied Misha to the set, and when Jensen saw the toy tucked in Misha’s elbow his eyes sparkled and he grinned like he was about to bust out laughing, but he managed to keep himself under control. Misha did not acknowledge that anything was out of the ordinary, except for solemnly introducing Mort the pony to anyone who asked: “This is Mort. He’s a pony.”
Everyone seems to think it’s just Misha being Misha, but he knows what it means. Misha doesn’t know how Jensen will give him world peace, but he’s positive Jensen will find a way to do it. He’s managed the pony, after all.
And then … well, he’d promised Jensen would choose when they went further, and Jensen has chosen; he’d asked Jensen to show him he meant it, and Jensen is showing him; and then it will be time for Misha to hold up his end. The thought makes him tremble. The problem with buildup is that you’re bound to be disappointed. Reality will ever be as good as imagination. If he and Jensen aren’t as good together as Misha hopes, what then?
But there’s the way Jensen kisses him. There’s the lazy, hungry looks Jensen gives him. And there’s the tension between them in the scene; with Dean and Castiel so desperate, Misha has been pouring himself into the scene and Jensen is not only meeting him but giving him even more, pushing him further still.
They’re bound already, Misha thinks, in so many ways. Becoming lovers will only be one more.
And now they have permission to kiss in the scene, if they feel it. Not a direction, exactly. Just permission.
Misha takes all the conflicting emotions, the hope and the nerves and the eagerness, folds them together and tells himself that Castiel is still new to emotion and will feel it all raw and unadorned, in primary colors like a small child. If Castiel wants, he’ll flat-out want.
He looks at Jensen: his eyes are closed and his head is bobbing a little like a skier visualizing a run before he even puts on his skis. Jensen has been acting so long that technique is second-nature to him, and Misha envies him that sometimes.
The camera starts rolling, a PA claps the time marker, and they’re Dean and Castiel, grappling with the end of the world once again.
There’s a lot of yelling in this scene, a lot of pleading. Tears weren’t written into the script but they’re shed anyway, and then Dean is right in Castiel’s face, invading his space like he’d lectured Castiel about sometime offscreen. (It’s a scene Misha regrets they didn’t film, but he and Jensen have talked about it and agreed on what Dean said and how Castiel took it.)
And then there’s that moment, the climax of the scene, where as written the emotional payoff is another intense stare — but it has to be more, it has to acknowledge all that the hunter and the angel have meant to each other, have been to each other, that make all the fights and pain worth it.
One sweet moment. They deserve it.
Misha moves first but by less than a second — he has Jensen’s face in his hands and Jensen is holding his. Their mouths meet; they don’t even decorously fake the deep kiss but mouths open and tongues join before their lips even touch. Jensen shoves his body against Misha’s, which Misha thinks is just right for Dean since he’s the one who know how to kiss, who knows best what this will lead to; and when Misha shoves back Jensen pushes Misha against the nearest wall (it’s just a flat, not an actual wall, and it shakes a little under their combined weights). Jensen kisses him harder and more urgently. Misha clutches at Jensen; he’s clumsy and uncertain, as someone who’s never really been kissed would be, but eager, just as hungry for this as his favorite human.
It’s not until Misha’s hands cup Jensen’s ass that Robert says, “Cut!” Misha drops his hands and Jensen pulls his mouth away, though he stays pressed again Misha, breathing hard. His cheek rests against Misha’s and his lashes brush Misha’s skin.
“I think we need to break for lunch,” says Robert, and there’s some nervous laughter from the crew.
“Jen,” Misha says gently and touches Jensen’s waist. Jensen pulls himself away, reluctant, and then turns to stalk off the set. Misha stops only to scoop up Mort the pony and then catches up him. Their strides match as Jensen leads them through the maze of trailers and sound stages.
Finally Jensen mutters, his voice Dean-gruff, “I had this plan. I was going to be cute.”
“You are cute.”
“I was going to be charming.”
“You are charming.”
“I was going to be everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Misha looks at him directly. “You are.”
Jensen looks back at him. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” Misha says, almost laughing. “No.”
“We should — ”
“Yes.” He winds his arm through Jensen’s. “We should.”
You tell me baby
That you can feel me
I sent a message out into the dark
When I kiss you
That’s the real me
I’ve gotta find my way to your heart
♪ “Into the Dark”—Ben Lee