Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jensen sat back in his desk chair with a sigh. Two months of maintaining his profile on this site and nothing. He knew he wasn't going to find someone to be his Daddy right away, but no one he talked to even came close to what he was looking for. Most of the people Jensen talked to on carersandlittles.com obviously were only there for sex. Sex was great, but it was not the main thing Jensen was there for. He didn't need the website to get sex, he needed it to find someone who could understand what he needed and was willing to give it to him. The rest of the people who messaged Jensen just weren't the type with whom he was compatible. Some weren't looking for something serious, others liked to switch roles, some were too domineering, and the rest just had nothing in common with him. He would give it another week, and after that Jensen would give up on being Little for good.

With that decision made, Jensen looked at the clock. Shit. As usual, he was late again. Jensen pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and ran to his car. If he sped all the way there, he might just make it on time.

.................

Misha Collins shifted in the heavy trench coat, running over his lines again in his head. He had high hopes for this gig, but his first scene was with Jensen Ackles, and the guy was already fifteen minutes late. Jensen seemed cool enough in interviews, but hopefully he wasn't a total diva off camera.

"Don't worry," said one of the camera crew. "Jensen's always late. It's nothing against you."

Misha smiled wryly. Maybe it wasn't intended to be, but it still felt freaking awkward just standing around.

Before Misha could reply, the door banged open, and in ran a breathless and red-faced Jensen.

"Hey guys," Misha's new coworker puffed. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"Got caught up," one of the wardrobe team cut in.

Jensen blushed. "Yah, sorry."

"It's ok. Come and we'll get you fixed up."

Jensen was whirled away before Misha even got to say hello.

When Jensen finally returned, the first thing he did was head over to the man in the trench coat.

"Hi," he said. "You must be Misha. I'm so sorry for holding this up."

Misha accepted the proffered hand with a smile. "No worries. It gave me more time to figure out how I'm going to play this. I mean, an angel right? How do you be an angel who looks like a human but doesn't act like a human but is in the body of a human?"

Jensen laughed richly, putting Misha at ease. "Well you got the part, so you obviously did something right."

The two men were called over then, and the scene began. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and then Misha opened his mouth. It took all of Jensen's self control not to say "dude, what the fuck?" Instead of Misha's beautiful voice, the trench-coat clad man let out a low, gravely tone. The guy was a good actor otherwise, but what in the world possessed him to do that?

They managed to make it through the scenes with only a few retakes needed, and Jensen managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he bid Misha and the others "goodbye." Jared would have to get a load of the new guy.

...................

Misha returned to his new flat that night. All-in-all the day had been fairly successful. Jensen Ackles seemed a bit standoffish, but the rest of the cast and crew were great. Next week Misha would get to meet Jared anyway, and maybe he would be someone with whom Misha could form a friendship.

Misha microwaved some soup for dinner. Normally he would cook, but most of his kitchen supplies were still packed away in boxes. Besides, it wasn't like he had anyone else to prepare meals for right now. When Misha had decided to move to accept the role of Castiel, his longtime boyfriend had decided not to come with him. They had been having problems for a few months, but Misha never imagined that Raph would refuse to go with him. Perhaps it was the shock of that rejection that had made Misha take the new job over his relationship without giving it a second thought, or maybe he and Raph had just fallen that far apart. Whatever the reason, Misha was sitting alone, eating microwaved soup, surrounded by unpacked boxes.

Misha refused to dwell on the depressing turn of events any longer. He pulled out his laptop and loaded carersandlittles.com. When Raph made it very obvious that their Daddy/Little relationship was over along with their adult one, Misha had created a profile on the site. Now that he had finally moved and started work, it was time to switch his profile to his new location.

Misha updated his page, and then began to shift through the profiles of Littles in Vancouver, British Columbia. There were a surprising number, but then again, it was a decently sized city, with a fairly open-minded culture. Unfortunately, none of the profiles appealed to him. Misha wanted someone he was attracted to, and could maybe have an adult relationship with, but age-play for him was not about sex. It was also important that Misha have something in common with his Little; he wanted someone that he could enjoy spending time with as an adult and a baby.

Misha was about to call it quits for the evening, when he decided to load one more page. Twenty more profiles popped up, but it was the second from the bottom that caught his eye. "Looking for a Daddy and a friend," it said.

Misha clicked on the profile to see its details. There was no picture, but that was okay; Misha didn't have one either. What Misha could see, filled him with growing interest.

"I never know what to say on there things," the profile summary began. It wasn't an unusual admission for these sites, but Misha still liked the vulnerability of it. "I'm an actor, or at least I'm trying to become one. It's a stupid dream I know, but I actually have a job in the business right now, and I love it. Maybe it'll actually work out. Other than that, I like hiking, skiing, horror movies, and oh yah, I'm a Little. Guess I should've lead with that. Anyway, I'm always up for meeting new people, so if you think I sound interesting, I would love to hear from you."

Well, Misha definitely thought he sounded interesting. He clicked on the option to "message DeanABC123" . Misha stared at the blank window for a bit. What to say.

"Hi Dean," he finally typed. "I am new to the Vancouver area, and when I was looking through local profiles, your's caught my eye. It sounds like we have some things in common, so if you would like to chat, send me a reply."

Misha read through his message a couple of times. It seemed nonthreatening enough, so he hit "send", before opening Netflix to end his night with a show.

..........................

Jensen was chilling on his couch after a few beers with Jared. He was just starting to doze, when his laptop beeped. He thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of him. Switching over to his email, Jensen saw that he had a message letting him know that "DaddyFirst99" had contacted him on carersandlittles.com.

Jensen logged onto the site and opened his inbox.

Hi Dean, I am new to the Vancouver area, and when I was looking through local profiles, your's caught my eye. It sounds like we have some things in common, so if you would like to chat, send me a reply.

He read the note and shrugged. It wasn't a particularly ground breaking note, but then again, that was probably a good thing. Besides, there were no dick pics included, and that was a definitely plus. Jensen made his decision right then. If nothing else the man sounded nice, he wasn't pushy, and he was in Jensen's area. Might as well give him a shot.

"Hi," Jensen typed back. For some reason he was nervous, and unfortunately, he felt like that tone was making its way into his message. "When did you move to Vancouver? How do you like it so far? What do we have in common?"

Jensen read over his note. It sounded so banal, but what else was he supposed to say? "Hey, wanna maybe be my daddy if you're not a sexual predator?". Yah, not so much.

Jensen hit send. Then, out of curiosity, he flipped over to DaddyFirst's profile. Dammit, he should have read the profile before replying. The guy was an actor and liked being outdoors. It was pretty obvious what they had in common. About as obvious as it was going to be to DaddyFirst that Jensen didn't bother to even look at his profile. He was going to think that Jensen didn't care or that he just replied to every message he got in the same pointless way. Jensen sighed. No wonder he couldn't find a Daddy online.

Jensen opened his inbox again and began to type out a new note. He was determined not to screw this up for once.

"Hi again," he wrote. "I'm really sorry. I should have read your profile first. My questions were pretty stupid I realize now. You said you've been here for a couple weeks and you moved here for work. How's the new job? And I guess I can still ask how you're liking Vancouver? Sorry again for the redundancy. If you still wanna chat, I'm around."

It was several nerve wracking minutes before Jensen's email beeped again. Immediately, he refreshed his inbox on the site and read the new message from DaddyFirst99. What he saw made him feel warm inside. No other message he received on the website had done that too him yet, but this one made him melt in only one line.

Dean, sweetheart, those weren't stupid questions at all. It's hard to know what to say to people on these websites. You sound like a smart, nice boy though, and you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. So far I like Vancouver. It's a very pretty city, but it is a bit lonely. I'm sure I'll meet people eventually though. I have only had one day at my new job, but it seems promising so far. Enough about me though, would you like to tell me a little about yourself?

Jensen began to type as soon as he finished reading the message. "I'm sorry you're lonely. We could mee-" Before he even finished typing the word Jensen was hitting "delete". What was he thinking, offering to meet up with a complete stranger. Stranger danger, Jensen. Why don't you just jump in a van with tinted windows the next time a stranger stops and offers you candy? Clearly he was getting too desperate about this whole finding a daddy thing.

Jensen retyped his message. "I'm sorry you're lonely. I'm sure you'll meet people though. You seem really nice, and I know lots of people in Vancouver will wanna be your friend. You said you like the outdoors, well I know some great hiking around here that I can tell you about if you ever want something to do on your time off. I also like skiing, playing music, and reading when I'm an adult. Other times I really like to colour or build with legos." Dam he sounded boring. That was the problem with online. He couldn't get by on his looks, but maybe that was for the better. He could find someone who liked him for him. "I don't have much little time," Jensen continued. "It's kinda awkward to play by myself, and I haven't really figured out how to work it into my life yet. Have you been a Daddy long? If you have any advice, I could really use some. Anyway, I have to go to bed for now cause it's getting late, but if you reply I'll definitely write back tomorrow."

Jensen hit "send" before he could start to doubt himself again. Resolutely, he closed his laptop before another beep could draw him back to the online world. He wasn't sure what it was about DaddyFirst, but within only a couple of messages, he liked the guy. If nothing else, Jensen felt like he could be himself in their chat. Not little Jensen or big Jensen, but just Jensen the person. Whatever odd combination of child and adult that came out of his mouth was okay, and for once he didn't feel like he had to be wholly in one headspace or another.

Jensen went to bed that night, falling asleep to a smooth voice calling him "sweetheart" and blue eyes watching him intently.

Chapter Text

I'm sorry you're lonely. I'm sure you'll meet people though. You seem really nice, and I know lots of people in Vancouver will wanna be your friend. You said you like the outdoors, well I know some great hiking around here that I can tell you about if you ever want something to do on your time off. I also like skiing, playing music, and reading when I'm an adult. Other times I really like to colour or build with legos. I don't have much little time. It's kinda awkward to play by myself, and I haven't really figured out how to work it into my life yet. Have you been a Daddy long? If you have any advice, I could really use some. Anyway, I have to go to bed for now cause it's getting late, but if you reply I'll definitely write back tomorrow.

Misha reread the message that Dean had sent him for the third time. The kid sounded too cute. When he first set up a profile on carersandlittles.com, Misha hadn't had much in the way of expectations. Maybe he shouldn't have judged the idea so harshly after all.

Misha pushed those thoughts aside and went back to typing out a response. Dean had asked for advice, and Misha would do his best to provide some guidance. That was one of his favourite things about being a Daddy, helping his little one to navigate the big world.

"It sounds like we have a lot of the same interests, Dean," Misha typed. "I would love some recommendations for good hikes. Also, if you know of a good gym that would be great. The chain I used to go to doesn't exist in Canada." Misha paused. Now for the hard part. "As for advice, well I guess this is one area where maybe I can help a bit. I just got out of a relationship with a man who had been my little boy for over three years. Before that I was a Daddy to other Littles. What I'm trying to say is that I have had some experience. Unfortunately, you need to discover for yourself how much of a role you want it to play in your life. This may take some trial and error. I can understand why you don't like playing alone. It's never as much fun that way. Perhaps some evening we can go on chat together while you play. It might feel a little more natural that way. Otherwise Dean, just experiment. How much Little time are you currently clocking?"

Misha hit send, and started to get ready for work. He had another day of running scenes with Jensen. Hopefully today would be a little less awkward.

Misha had barely had time to get dressed when a new message popped up from Dean.

I'm not really being Little at all right now. I know you're probably thinking, "how can this guy consider himself a Little?". That's fair enough. Um I used to do it fairly often, but I stopped and haven't been able to work myself up to getting back into it. It's kinda a long story. I really like the idea of playing with you on chat though. Can we do that sometime? Also Goodlife has a ton of gyms around the city. It's a bit chain-y, but I can guarantee there will be one near wherever you're living.

Misha glanced quickly at the time. He figured he had long enough to fire off one more quick message to his boy. The boy. Not his boy.

"Thanks for the recommendation. I have to run to work now, but why don't we choose an evening this week for a play date. Tomorrow night or the one after work for me."

Misha grabbed his keys and was about to head out the door when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He had an email. Unable to help himself, Misha ran back to his laptop to see if the message was from Dean. It was, and Misha logged onto his profile quickly.

Shit. I have work too. Haven't even showered yet. I'm always goddamn late. The night after tomorrow works for me. I can't wait.

Misha frowned. He wanted to tell Dean to watch his language, but he didn't want to come across as stifling. Shrugging, Misha closed his laptop and left for the set.

.............................

Jensen was again red faced and out of breath when he finally came rushing onto the set. Misha felt the urge to roll his eyes.

"Sorry," Jensen muttered as he went to get ready.

"You got caught up," Misha said, remembering the phrase from the day before.

"Um yah." Jensen's face grew even more red.

Misha would have found the blush cute if he wasn't so annoyed. He wondered if Dean made it to work on time. Lateness was a habit he would have to train out of the boy if he got to be Dean's daddy. And when had Misha decided he wanted to be Dean's daddy? He didn't know the kid at all.

Misha realized he must have been daydreaming for awhile, because next thing he knew, Jensen had joined him on the set, and the director was calling for people to take their places.

They worked through the morning and managed to get a fair amount accomplished. When it was finally time to have a break, Jensen gave Misha a smile and a thump on the back before he headed over to talk to Jared, who had been filming some scenes with the new Ruby. Misha sighed. Awkwardly alone again. He used his phone to check his email, but there were no new messages from Dean. Hopefully the boy was staying out of trouble.

Misha took a breath and headed over to where Jensen and Jared were talking. He might as well make an effort.

"So I found this great new hike," Jensen was saying. "It starts pretty far outside the city, but it's freaking gorgeous. I know you're not into it, but that is worth venturing outdoors for."

Jared turned as Misha approached.

"Jared, Misha. Misha, Jared," Jensen introduced.

Jared and Misha exchanged pleasantries, and Jared brought Misha into their conversation. "Maybe Misha would be interested," he said to Jensen. "Misha, like hiking? Jensen's a freak for it, but it's not really my thing. I'm not a fan of him trekking off alone in the woods though."

Jensen blushed again, and Misha gave him a considering look. "Well it's not like I have anyone to go with," Jensen muttered, directing a pointed gaze at Jared.

Jared just laughed, ignoring the pout that was directed at him. "Tell Misha about the one you just did."

"Well, this one was pretty far out of the city, and you don't have a car you mentioned. On the North Side of the city there's Crown Mountain though. There's some gorgeous views from up there, but you need a full day for it."

Misha nodded. "If you would like company I'd be happy to go with you. Jared is right about hiking alone."

Jensen shrugged. "I'm used to it." He wasn't sure why he had brushed off Misha's offer, but something about the guy put him on edge. Jensen simultaneously felt so safe with him and so on edge, and he barely knew Misha. Maybe it was because of the character Misha was playing and his relationship to Jensen's own character, or perhaps it was his gorgeous, honest blue eyes. Whatever the reason, Jensen was not comfortable with how quickly he was coming to like Misha. Besides, Jensen was finally talking to someone who might be willing to be his Daddy. He was not going to screw that up by mooning over a pair of blue eyes and a mop of disheveled black hair. Over it.

Misha sighed to himself as he followed the others back onto the set. At least Jared seemed friendly.

.................................

Misha was done before Jared or Jensen that day, and he headed back to his flat to run over his lines for his first scene with Jared. Before he began, Misha checked his email. There were some updates from carersandlittles.com, but none of them were messages from Dean. In fairness, he hadn't responded to Dean's last message; maybe the boy was waiting on him too. He fired off a quick note, asking about Dean's day, and then he got down to work.

After an hour, Misha made himself a peanut butter sandwich and sat back on his couch to relax. He really did need to start unpacking, but not tonight. Instead, he opened up his email. This time, he wasn't disappointed.

Yah, I was late again. I gotta stop doing that, but I just lose track of time. I feel really bad though. There's this new guy I'm working with, and I think he gets annoyed when I'm late. Otherwise today was fine, just long. A conversation we had at work today reminded me of you though. There's a hike just on the North Side of the city that you should check out. The views are phenomenal when you get to the top. It's called Crown Mountain. Anyway, just a thought. I had something I wanted to ask you though. You mentioned experimenting to see how much a part of my life I wanted this to be. What did you mean? How do I do that?

Misha stared at his computer screen. Crown Mountain. What were the chances. But there was no way...

Misha sat back heavily. How much did he know about Jensen? Not much. Could he imagine Jensen as a Little? Misha pictured the slow blush that frequently creeped up Jensen's cheeks, obscuring his freckles. Then there were the wide eyes and the way he sometimes deferred to the younger Jared. Yes, Misha could definitely imagine that face appearing vulnerable and those eyes looking to Daddy Misha to fix his problems.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

............................

Jensen had turned down Jared's suggestion of a post-work trip to the bar in favour of heading home to check his messages. He had been thrilled to see that DaddyFirst99 had wanted to know about his day. It made him feel warm and special, like he mattered.

Jensen waited impatiently for DaddyFirst to reply to his most recent message. Finally, his computer beeped.

Well sweetheart, have you thought about trying something like pull-ups outside of your home? They wouldn't be obvious and they would constantly remind you of how little you are. You would find out pretty quickly if you liked it being a bigger part of your life or not.

Jensen blushed at the very idea. God, wear pull-ups to the set? Or out for beers with Jared? No freaking way. If anyone found out they would never stop laughing. Jensen would have to get the writers to kill off Dean Winchester for good, because there was no way in hell he would be able to go back to work.

"I dunno," Jensen responded. "It's a good idea, but I haven't worn anything like that in so long. Also, I think I'd be too scared to buy them."

The response to his message was almost instantaneous.

Let me buy them for you and I'll leave them in a package for you at a postoffice. I like the idea of being the one to buy you your first pull-ups.

Jensen still felt nervous, but he also felt incredibly special that DaddyFirst was willing to go out of his way like that. Maybe he could wear pull-ups outside. Daddy seemed to think so. DaddyFirst, not your daddy, Jensen corrected himself.

Jensen typed out his response. It was a few minutes before he worked up the courage to hit "send", and as soon as the message left his inbox, he wished he could claw it back. The reply he received instantly eased Jensen's mind though.

I'm so proud that you're willing to try something new Dean. I know that can be scary sometimes. Would the post office on Almon work for you? I will have them there for tomorrow morning. And what size do you need?

Jensen realized that although he didn't know DaddyFirst, he trusted him. Even more than that though, he wanted to make this complete stranger proud of him again.

"That's perfect. It's close to where I work, so I can pick it up on the way. Um I guess a medium."

Excellent. Now Dean, it's getting late. I think it's time for little boys to be in bed.

Jensen blushed. "K," he typed. "Goodnight."

Goodnight, sweetheart

Jensen smiled to himself. Skipping the bar had been a great idea after all. He felt more at peace than he had in ages.

Jensen started to turn on the TV, but a sudden niggling of guilt stopped him. He had told DaddyFirst that he would go to bed. Yes, he had told someone he never met something that said person wouldn't be able to confirm. Big frigging whoop if he stayed up to watch some shows.

Before he realized he had made up his mind though, Jensen was standing up from his couch and heading to his room. Still not quite believing what he was doing, Jensen put on his pyjamas, brushed his teeth, and got into bed. It was ridiculous, but going to bed like he promised just felt right. Jensen snuggled into his bed, both excited and terrified for what the next day would bring.

Chapter Text

For once, Jensen left his house early. With trepidation, he parked outside the post office and made his way inside the building. He walked up to the counter and met the gaze of the man behind it. And dammit, he was blushing already.

"Uh, there should be something here for Dean," he managed.

The man raised an eyebrow, and for a moment Jensen worried the guy would ask him for a last name. He really should have thought about that before. Instead though, the men went through a set of doors at the back of the room and returned with a box wrapped in brown paper, that simply said "Dean," in square letters.

Jensen thanked him, took the package, and willed himself not to run from the store. Instead, he walked slowly to the customer bathroom. Once inside, Jensen shut himself in the biggest stall. He sat on the toilet seat with the package on his lap. With fingers that shook, Jensen carefully unwrapped the brown paper.

As soon as he saw the package of pull-ups, Jensen knew he couldn't do it. There was no way he was brave enough. He also wasn't stealthy enough to get away with it. Jared would find out and laugh his ass off. And what about Misha? The guy already didn't like him. Robert was going to be there today as well. He would probably just shake his head.

Jensen felt his eyes start to water. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't he just like normal things?

Jensen started to wrap the pull-ups back up, feeling pissed at himself, both for wanting to wear the pull-ups, and for being too much of a coward to go through with it. As he pulled the brown paper back over the plastic package, a small piece of paper drifted towards the ground. Curiously, Jensen picked it up and read the note.

Dear Dean,

I know by now you have seen the pull-ups and are probably terrified by the idea of wearing them. It's important that you know that you don't have to. I'm so proud of you just for making it this far. On the other hand, if this is something you want, you deserve to try it. Whatever you decide, I look forward to talking to you tonight, and I'm am very honoured that I got to buy you your first pull-ups.

-DF

Jensen reread the note twice. How did this guy know exactly what to say. Feeling awed, touched, and maybe a bit manipulated, Jensen tore open the package and tentatively pulled out one of the garments. The plastic crinkled in his hands. He opened it slowly and touched the soft insides. Holy crap. How had he been missing out on this for so long? Jensen didn't even need to put the pull-up on to know that it was going to feel incredible. Even just holding it radiated rightness.

Jensen realized then how long he had been in the bathroom. He struggled to get his jeans undone. As soon as they were just a pile at his feet, Jensen kicked off his boxers and stepped into a disposable undergarment for the first time in years. He had been right. It was amazing.

Thankfully, Jensen's jeans slid easily on over the pull-up. He rewrapped the package and left the stall. Before exiting the bathroom, Jensen checked himself over in the mirror. There was no sign beneath the thick denim of his pants. Just awesome.

With a new lightness in his step, Jensen left the store and headed to work.

...................................

Misha had barely slept the night before, and he was up with the sun to buy the pull-ups for Dean. Unfortunately he didn't have time to get the boy something worthy of a toddler's first pull-up - Misha was thinking cute prints of cars or animals or something - so the plain white adult ones would have to do. Somehow Misha felt that the look of the pull-up would be the last thing on Dean's mind today.

Before he went to make his purchase and drop it off at the post office, Misha wrote a quick note to wrap up with the parcel. No doubt his poor boy would be incredibly anxious today, and Misha wanted him to know he had support.

Misha left the package at the post office, belatedly realizing that he didn't have any name to give the employee there other than "Dean". The man obviously thought it was an odd request, but he went along with it after a moment.

After that, Misha headed to work to await Jensen Ackles and to see what his day would bring.

...................................

Misha was getting frustrated. He had been working with Jensen all day, and he couldn't tell what the man was wearing under his jeans. Obviously that was the point. If Jensen was DeanABC123 and was wearing pull-ups in public for the first time, Misha knew he would be mortified if anyone could tell. The fact that Misha was looking as often as he could without appearing to be checking out Jensen's ass and still didn't know if he was padded beneath his jeans was a good thing. On the other hand, his plan to find out if Jensen was his Little was blowing.

They were wrapping up the final scene that Misha was in for a full week, so circumstances were getting desperate.

"That's it," one of the filming crew called. "We got the shot."

"Ok, we're done for the day guys," the director responded.

Well shit. Desperate times...

Misha pretended to trip and fell against Jensen, whom he had been following closely behind. Misha knew it was far embarrassingly unstealthy, but he used the opportunity to brush his hand against Jensen's bottom.

Holy crap.

Jensen turned to Misha in alarm. "Are you okay man?" he asked as he helped the other actor up.

"Yah," Misha managed. "Must've caught my foot on a wire."

"Ha, yah. Jared does that all the time, but he can't see the ground from up there. He has an excuse."

"Oh ha-ha," called Jared from where he was speaking with Robert.

Misha managed to pull himself out of his haze of disbelief to laugh along with the others. He held himself together long enough to return Castiel's wardrobe and start walking home. Then he let the day's revelations sink in. Obviously a padded rear wasn't proof of anything, but there was also the Crown Mountain incident, and the fact that Jensen's character was Dean Winchester. Also, the day after Misha convinced his online contact to try pull-ups, Jensen had a very cushioned bum.

It was far too much to be coincidence. Jensen was DeanABC123. Jensen Ackles was the man that Misha wanted to make his baby boy.

Now how best to tell Jensen?

Chapter Text

Misha wasn't sure how Dean- Jensen- would be feeling, so decided he would keep his tone neutral and let Jensen decide whether he wanted to have the conversation about pull-ups as an adult or as a little boy. In the end, it didn't matter though. When Misha logged onto his profile, there was already a message from Jensen. Although it could be hard to tell via email, the tone of Jensen's message was decidedly little.

Guess what! Jensen wrote. I did it! I wore pull-ups the whole day at work, and no one knew. Thank you so much for buying them for me. I promise I'll pay you back. And thanks for the note. I was really scared at first, but that helped me go through with it :)

Misha grinned at his little boy's enthusiasm. It was infectious. Suddenly, Misha was sure that an online relationship with DeanABC123 wasn't going to be enough. Now Misha was picturing Jensen's angelic face with every word he read. Knowing how close he had been to Jensen in a pull-up today was both exciting and aggravating. The boy might as well have been on Mars for all the access Misha had to him.

Misha pushed that thought aside and typed out his reply. It was so tempting to suggest they meet up, but he knew that would be too much too soon for little Jensen. At least Misha hoped it would be, and the child wasn't foolish enough to meet up with a stranger after only a few days of talking online.

"Dear Jensen."

Shit. Misha immediately deleted the line. He was going to have to be very careful over the next few days.

Misha started typing a new message. "Dean, I'm so proud of you sweetheart. I know that couldn't have been easy; you were very brave. How did it feel? What do you think now of having some real little time? I am looking forward to our playtime tomorrow night."

Misha reread the last line. Did that sound creepy? Possibly. He deleted "our playtime" and hit send. Then, he sat back to wait.

.........................................

Jensen was hanging out with Jared, and the younger man could tell his friend was distracted.

"Dude, what's up?" Jared asked. "That's the hundredth time tonight you've checked your phone."

Jensen sighed. He really had to stop obsessing, but he couldn't wait to hear back from DaddyFirst. Telling the man about his day had been so exciting, and Jensen couldn't wait for the praise he knew he was going to receive for how good he had been that day.

Jensen's phone buzzed then, and he jumped. Jared raised an eyebrow, but waved his hand. "Go ahead," he sighed.

"Sorry," Jensen muttered, but he checked his messages anyway. When he read DaddyFirst's response, he couldn't help the huge smile that broke out across his face. The man had not disappointed. He could practically feel DaddyFirst's pride in him, and Jensen's tummy grew warm at the thought.

"So who's the guy?"

Jensen looked at Jared in confusion. "What?"

Jared gestured to the phone in Jensen's hand. "We've been friends for awhile now. I've never seen you this excited over a text message."

"Email," Jensen corrected absentmindedly.

"Even worse."

Jensen shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. "I dunno man. We just started talking, but he seems cool."

"Seems cool. Right. You're obviously into him. Where did you meet?"

Jensen blushed to his roots. "We haven't yet. We started talking online." He turned even more red when he realized that somewhere along the line he had made up his mind to meet DaddyFirst in person. When the hell did that happen?

Jared put on his concerned puppy look, the one that Jensen secretly thought of as the Sam Winchester Special. "Just be careful okay. Make sure you meet him somewhere public."

"What am I, twelve?" Jensen growled. "Obviously."

Jared laughed. "Sorry. Anyway, back to the movie I was telling you about."

Jensen only half-listened as Jared went on about the latest blockbuster he had seen. Instead, Jensen's mind was filled with thoughts of meeting DaddyFirst. What would the man look like? How would he sound? Would he seem as paternal in real life? Be able to make Jensen feel as little and safe as he did through the web? Most importantly, how long did Jensen have to wait before it wouldn't seem weird to suggest meeting? And how could he convince DaddyFirst that seeing eachother in person was a good idea?

...............................

Jensen wasn't sure how he made it through his lines the next day. Finally, though it was time to leave. He rushed home as fast as possible. In record time he changed his pull-up - it wasn't wet, but it was sweaty from being worn all day - and dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. He grabbed an apple and munched on it while he logged on to his profile and waited for a message from DaddyFirst99.

DaddyFirst took long enough to get online that by the time Jensen received a message he was almost vibrating with nerves.

Hi there little one. Are you excited to play?

Jensen had to retype his response twice because his hands were shaking.

"Yes please Daddy". Jensen hit send then read over his message. Fuck. Quickly, he wrote another message. "I'm so sorry for the typo. I'm nervous and I hit send too early. I didn't mean to insinuate anything."

Jensen sat forward in his seat nervously. Thankfully, he didn't have long to wait for an answer.

You don't have to apologize sweetie. It was an easy mistake to make. Truth be told, it was very nice to hear (see) you call me that, so no more apologies.

Jensen was pretty certain he was glowing with happiness from DaddyFirst's note. Either that or Jared had laced his orange juice with something last time he was over. Something was responsible for the ridiculous grin on Jensen's face. He gathered his courage, and for once sent exactly what he wanted to say without analyzing how it would be received.

"I really liked calling you that," Jensen wrote.

DaddyFirst took so long to respond that Jensen started to wonder if he had misread the conversation. Finally he received an answer though.

Well then sweetheart, you can call me that whenever you want to. I know this is new for you, so I don't want things to go too quickly, but if that feels right then go ahead. Now, what are you going to play with?

Jensen grinned. "Legos. They're the best. I got a batman set. It's really cool. Can we switch to chat though?"

A chat window popped up at the bottom of Jensen's screen.

We sure can. Legos sound great buddy. Why don't you go ahead and play and I'll be here running some lines for work.

Jensen frowned. He really should be doing that too, not playing with stupid kid toys. Beginning to put his Legos away, he wrote as much to DaddyFirst.

The message he got back was obviously intended to be in a stern "daddy voice".

You will do no such thing Dean. Little boys aren't meant to work; they play. Now, tonight is all about you exploring being little, so having fun is all you have to do.

Jensen nodded, then remembered that DaddyFirst couldn't see him. "Ok Daddy. I'm gonna build a place to store the Batmobile then."

That sounds like a great idea. I want to see a picture of it when you're done.

Jensen smiled and broke open the Lego kit for the first time. He bought it because it reminded him of a toy he had when he was a kid. So far though, he hadn't gotten up the nerve to play with it. He almost wondered as he felt the pieces for the first time if it was because the toy was too much like something out of his childhood. Jensen shook his head to send the unwelcome thought away. Tonight was the perfect night to break the Legos out. With Daddy nearby in spirit, Jensen didn't feel alone for once.

...............................................

Misha smiled as he imagined Jensen sitting on the floor with Lego pieces spread out around him. More than anything he wished Jensen was sitting at his feet playing, while Misha read through the script for next week. Every now and then, Jensen would call for his daddy's attention, and Misha would put down his work to look at whatever it was that Jensen had built. He would praise Jensen's skill and his little boy would beam back up at him.

Misha felt certain from the messages they had been sending back and forth that Jensen had been having fun; however, he realized it had been awhile since his little boy had messaged him. Maybe he got caught up in imagination land, or possibly he had fallen asleep. Now wouldn't that be a sight. Misha felt the need to make sure though, so he sent Jensen a quick note.

"Hey buddy," he wrote. "Still having fun?"

There was no response, and Misha started to get a bit worried, even though he knew Jensen had probably just conked out after a long work day.

"Dean? I just want to make sure you're okay."

There was nothing for awhile, and Misha had just about given up on getting a response when his chat window flashed.

Yah, sorry, I'm fine. I should go though. Thanks for everything.

Misha frowned. Nothing about that message sounded right. He reread their most recent chats to see if anything he had said might be making Jensen standoffish. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Misha also quickly dismissed the idea that Jensen had found out who DaddyFirst was. There were no clues for the boy to follow, nothing that could have tipped Jensen off. Something else was going on here.

............................................

Jensen sat on the floor with his arms hugging his knees and his back against the couch. In and out, he thought to himself, trying to breathe.

Everything had been going great. DaddyFirst made playtime fun without even being in the room. It was when Jensen went to build the tallest tower he could that it happened.

Jensen tripped and fell into the tower, sending lego pieces flying. He looked at his body, stretched out on the rug, discarded blocks surrounding him. All of a sudden, Jensen's mind was filled with a memory he had worked hard over the years to forget. The force of the image in his mind took his breath away, and Jensen found his knees were shaking and his eyes were filling up quickly with tears.

He had thought it was finally safe to try being little again, that it had been long enough. Obviously not.

Jensen buried his face in his knees. He lost time sitting there, alone with his memories. Eventually though, a beep drew his attention. Jensen sighed. He had forgotten about DaddyFirst. The guy was probably just telling Jensen good night, so he ignored the note. When the second message came though, Jensen figured he should read it.

Dean? I just want to make sure you're okay.

Jensen instantly felt guilty. The last thing he wanted was to worry his Daddy. He tried to make his response sound reassuring and upbeat, but all he managed was, "Yah, sorry, I'm fine. I should go though. Thanks for everything." He felt suddenly drained, and the idea of anymore playtime was just too much.

Jensen got another message, and he reopened the chat window, expecting just a "good night" from DaddyFirst. At worst, maybe something telling him how ungrateful he was or how boring. The message he actually received was the last thing he expected.

Dean, you don't sound that good. Your Daddy's worried about you. My phone number is 604-872-6545. If you want to talk you can give me a call.

Jensen looked at his cellphone. His hand hovered over it for a moment, but he hesitated. DaddyFirst hadn't asked for his number, and his phone was blocked from caller ID, so it wasn't like making this call would open him up to anything dangerous. Daddy really sounded like he wanted to help, and at this point Jensen felt like he could use a talk. He was feeling miserable, like he was trapped in his own head and couldn't break out of the vicious cycle of terrifying thoughts and unwanted memories. The last thing Jensen wanted to do was ruin what had started out as a great night, but hey, the guy had offered.

.......................................

Misha jumped when his phone rang, and he scrambled to pick it up. Unknown Caller. Hopefully it was Jensen.

"Hello," he said, trying to sound warm and comforting in case it was his little boy.

"H-hi," a small voice stuttered.

It took all Misha's willpower not to admit to everything and demand to see his coworker right then. Jensen sounded awful. His nose was obviously stuffed, and based on the catch in his voice, Misha guessed it was all from crying. What in the world had gone wrong.

"Dean sweetie, it's so nice to hear your voice finally. What's wrong buddy? You seemed like you were having fun."

"I was. I just-"

Misha waited patiently for Jensen to continue.

There was a sigh from the other end of the call, and then Jensen spoke in a rush. "I haven't been little in a long time cause something happened last time I was. It was bad. I thought I was ok now, but this reminded me of it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really."

Misha felt his heart drop. Every part of him demanded he be there for Jensen right now. Not only could he not physically be with his boy, but he didn't even fully understand the problem. It was all so wrong.

"Thanks though," Jensen added. "You know, for playing with me, and for letting me call. I didn't mean for this to happen. I ruined our night."

"Not at all baby. I had lots of fun with you. Don't apologize for this. It's not your fault. Plus it means that next time we'll have lots of ways to make it an even better experience."

"Next time?" asked the small voice.

Misha stopped his pacing as he realized what he had just said. "Only if you want a next time," he clarified.

"Yes please, Daddy. I want lots of next times."

Misha couldn't help grinning and giving a small, quiet jump. Yes.

"Well then, if you're feeling better I think it's time for Dean to go to bed."

He heard a slight grumble from the other end of the line.

"Uh uh," Misha said. "It's late, and we don't want you to be a tired little boy tomorrow. Tell you what, if you get ready for bed right now, I'll read you a story."

Through the phone, Misha heard Jensen gasp. "Really?"

"Really," Misha grinned stupidly.

"Now go brush your teeth and get into your pjs. Do you need to use the potty?"

Misha could practically hear Jensen blush. "N-no."

"Do you need a clean pull-up? Are you still wearing your pull-ups?"

"Yes Daddy, all day."

"That's my good boy," Misha said. He let the genuine pride he felt leak into his voice.

Misha waited until Jensen reported being in bed. Then, he pulled a story up online from when he was a kid. Good old Robert Munsch. Misha had to read a second book because Jensen laughed most of the way through the first. Even though it was defeating the purpose of reading a bedtime story, it was good to hear Jensen sounding happy again.

Part way through the second story, Misha heard Jensen's breathing begin to even out. Only a few minutes later, soft little snores began to drift through the line. Misha held back a laugh. The sound was almost a whistle. Imagining it coming from a sleeping Jensen, perhaps from around a thumb in his mouth, was too cute for words.

Misha closed the book and set his phone down on the coffee table. He didn't turn it off, worried that a disconnection signal would wake Jensen up through the night. It didn't matter anyway, he had unlimited minutes for local calls, and he suspected that Jensen would have the same.

Misha stayed up for a few more hours. Occasionally he would smile at his phone when a small snort would come through the speaker. A few hours later, Misha decided it was time for bed for him as well. After a slight hesitation, he brought his phone into the bedroom with him and set it on his bedside table. If Jensen woke up and called out, Misha wanted to be there to respond. He didn't want his boy to feel abandoned.

The cellphone on his bedside table reminded Misha of having a baby monitor in his room. He hadn't realized how much he missed such a simple thing. It was more than the monitor though. Misha missed having the opportunity to care for someone and having someone trust him so deeply. If he accomplished nothing else with this move, Misha would get Jensen Ackles to want him for a Daddy.

With that thought in his head and Jensen's soft snores in his ear, Misha drifted off into peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Misha woke up to the sound of his phone beeping. Sometime during the night, Jensen had hung up on their call. Shit.

He ran to his laptop and waited impatiently for his internet to load. When he logged onto carersandlittles.com, Misha breathed a sigh of relief; he had a message from Jensen.

Hey man, I'm really sorry for the other night. That's not how I intended it to go. I appreciate that you stuck around. It's understandable if you don't want to keep whatever this is going. -Dean

The cold, impersonal tone of the message made Misha's breath quicken. Hopefully Jensen was just feeling awkward and didn't feel boundaries had been overstepped. Maybe leaving the phone on while Jensen slept had been too voyeuristic.

Misha had to get ready for work, but he quickly typed out a reply to let Jensen know that cutting off contact was the last thing he had in mind. When Misha hit send though, an unfamiliar screen popped up. "Server unavailable."

"Shit," Misha yelled out loud. He needed to fix this now.

Misha waited as long as he could. Over and over he hit "reload", but finally he had to leave for the set.

By the time Misha arrived, he still hadn't lost the sinking feeling in his stomach, the one that kept suggesting something had gone terribly, irreparably wrong last night. He needed to see Jensen with his own eyes. Maybe he couldn't talk things over with his boy, but Misha needed to read Jensen's expression, to see that he was in one piece.

Remarkably, when Misha entered the set, Jensen was already there. He looked terrible, and Misha's heart went out to him. Downcast eyes were rimmed with dark circles, and Jensen's face was so pale, he looked ill. Jensen didn't meet Misha's eyes, but he lifted a hand in greeting.

Misha was saved from trying to figure out what to say when make-up came for them. Usually, Misha took longer in make-up. The trenchcoat really wasn't his colour, and it was a struggle to get the right level of angel-pale-and-pure without washing him out. Today though, Jensen took almost twice as long in make-up as Misha did. By the time he came out, he looked human again though. The dark circles were nearly gone, and his cheeks had some colour. There was no denying how tired Jensen was though; the first thing he did when his hair and make-up was finished was pour himself a large mug of coffee and drink deeply from the steaming cup.

Misha shook his head and made his way over. "Hey Jensen," he said, resisting the urge to put his arm around the other man.

"Oh, hey," Jensen said. He offered a smile, but it looked forced. "Ready for today?"

"Yah. Ready enough anyway. Rough night?"

"You have no idea."

Jared came over to join them. "So you ditched me to go get loaded with your other friends."

Jensen forced a laugh. "Sorry, last night wasn't your scene."

"Well, you're coming out with me tonight then."

Jensen may have started to grimace, but he hid it well. "Yah, for sure."

Misha frowned. So Jensen wasn't even talking to Jared about what happened last night. He had hoped that his boy would confide in someone even if it couldn't be him.

Jensen was called to shoot his scenes, and Misha watched him go with concern. The long hours and hot lights could be draining for anyone, and Jensen already wasn't looking too good.

The day was far from successful. Misha was so distracted from trying to keep an eye on Jensen that all his scenes required far more takes than they should have. Even still, Jensen's day seemed to be going worse. Misha watched as the director pulled Jensen aside at one point. It wasn't possible to hear the words, but Misha could tell the conversation fell somewhere along the lines of "what the hell are you doing?". All Misha could do without coming clean to Jensen about the previous night, was to try to get him to sit down and drink water as much as possible. It was a losing battle.

Finally, the director called it a day earlier than planned since two of his main actors were not on their game. Misha was trying to decide how he should approach Jensen, when Jared solved the problem for him.

"Hey Misha," Jared called. "Jensen and I are going out for some beers. You should join us. I think we all had a shit day."

"Yah, sounds great."

"I'll give you a lift," Jared said.

Misha desperately would have liked some alone time with Jensen, but there was no good way to decline the offer. "Thanks," he said finally. "That'd be great."

Misha watched unhappily as Jensen got into his own car alone, and pulled out of the parking lot ahead of Jared's electric. It was only a short ride to the bar, where they would all be meeting up, but at that moment Jensen looked so alone. Misha's place was in that front seat, comforting Jensen. Being there wasn't possible though, so he focused on making small talk with Jared. Before the night was over, Misha was going to make things right.

..................................................

As Jensen drove to the bar where he would meet Jared and Misha, he finally had a moment alone to reflect on the abysmal day. It had started out terribly, and had not gotten any better from there.

When Jensen woke up that morning it was still dark outside. He rolled over to try to get comfortable again and ended up face-to-face with the cellphone lying on his pillow. The previous night came back to him all at once, and Jensen felt his cheeks burn with shame. Jensen, man. What the fuck?

He had been having an amazing time with someone who seemed like a great guy. In fact, Jensen had foolishly been thinking that this guy might be the one. The perfect daddy for him. Maybe the perfect man for him in every way. Well, that didn't last long. He had fucked it up royally.

Jensen had picked up the phone gingerly, as though it might burn, and he held it to his ear. He was greeted by soft breathing. DaddyFirst must have left the conversation open until he fell asleep. The realization left him feeling touched, mortified, and desperate. Jensen knew only two things for sure after last night: this guy was amazing, and Jensen had messed up big time.

After that, Jensen didn't even try to go to sleep. He ended the phone call, unable to face the thought of the awkward conversation that would ensue if he left the line open until DaddyFirst woke up. Instead, Jensen typed out an apology. It wasn't enough, but at least it released his da- former daddy- of any potential feelings of obligation towards continuing their relationship.

Jensen wasn't sure what to do after that. He was too nauseous to eat anything, so he settled for pacing. When that wasn't enough to calm his nervous energy, Jensen went down to his finished basement and worked out until it was finally late enough to get showered and head to work. Even still, he was unusually early. Jensen received a lot of odd looks that day, even before he started trying to act.

Jensen finally pulled into the bar's parking lot. He stealed himself for the evening ahead. He really didn't have the energy for a night out, but Jared was persistent. Besides, the last thing Jensen wanted to do was sit at home, alone with his thoughts.

.....................................

By the time Misha and Jared got to the bar, Jensen had already ordered beer for all three of them and was working on his first. When the server came around again, Misha and Jared ordered food; Jensen said he didn't feel like eating. The conversation started out light, but it soon became apparent to Misha that Jared was trying to draw Jensen out. Jensen however, was willing to talk about Supernatural, sports, probably astrophysics, as long as it didn't involve talking about what was truly bothering him.

Eventually Jared called their server over and asked for his bill. He had work in the morning, and it was obvious that even liquored up, Jensen wasn't going to talk. Jared himself had stopped ordering beer a couple of hours ago, and Misha's drinks were well on their way to room temperature before the actor was close to finishing them. Only Jensen was still going strong.

When Jared stood up to go, Misha pushed back his chair as well. Jensen however, stayed seated.

"Jensen man," Jared said, "I need to go".

"Sounds good. See ya later," Jensen said.

"What? You're not coming? How are you going to get home?"

"Taxi."

Jared looked like he was about to protest, but Misha cut in. "I'll stay with him. I can drive him home in his car afterwards."

"Are you sure?" asked Jared.

"Yeah. You have to work tomorrow; I don't. It's fine. I'll make sure he gets home okay."

Jensen snorted, but he didn't protest.

Jared looked a bit reluctant, but eventually he left. Misha was finally alone with Jensen, and he had no idea what to say.

................................

Misha winced as Jensen ordered them each another beer. If it was starting to go to his head, he couldn't imagine how his costar must be feeling. For the longest time, Jensen just sat there, drinking his drink and saying little. Finally, Misha came to a decision. The indirect approach wasn't going to work, as evidenced by Jared's failed attempts to get Jensen to talk. It was time to be blunt.

"So what's this all about?"

Jensen looked at him. It took him a moment to focus on Misha's face, but he pulled it off and managed to raise a single eyebrow.

"All what?"

Misha gestured about them.

Jensen said nothing, but Misha continued to match his stare, and finally Jensen sighed.

"I'll give you points for persistency." Jensen looked down at the bottle in his hands; however, he did continue to talk. "I know it'll sound stupid or overly dramatic or something, but I met this guy online."

Misha inhaled sharply. He was so close to finding out what went wrong the previous night. It felt a little wrong to have Jensen spill his private thoughts without knowing he was speaking to DaddyFirst, but in the end Misha couldn't resist. "Go on," he encouraged.

"Well, we've only been speaking for a little while, but he was special, and I blew it"

It took every ounce of Misha's self control not to walk over to Jensen and wrap his arms around his little boy. Misha took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "How did you blow it?"

"Can't say. Just did."

"Well, if he was really that special, don't you think he'll understand?"

Jensen shrugged. "I think he's special enough that he can do better. He doesn't need to put up with crazy."

Misha was about to protest, but he was cut off when Jensen staggered to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Misha asked.

"Bathroom, Dad," Jensen said snarkily.

Misha wasn't sure whether to feel amused with the irony of it or irritated by the tone. He settled for saying nothing and waiting for Jensen to make his way unsteadily back.

When Jensen got back, Misha thought he was going to have to push to get Jensen talking again. Instead, it seemed that once Jensen had started opening up he wanted to get everything off his chest.

"Want to know what makes this guy so special?" Jensen said as he took a swig from a new bottle of beer.

Misha shrugged nonchalantly. Oh God, yes.

"I don't even know if I can tell you. I mean, I barely know him. But what I do know is that he's kind, interesting, and knows all the right things to say. I bet he would have a beautiful soul if it worked that way in real life."

Misha felt himself starting to redden under Jensen's praise. What the other man said next though, brought Misha's blush out in full force.

"You know, you're pretty great yourself Misha. Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? You must."

"No, I don't. Have a boyfriend."

"Hard to believe. You're funny. And hot. Good listener too."

The fact that Jensen was slurring his words didn't detract from the warmth spreading through Misha at all. He had the ridiculous urge to grin.

Jensen looked at Misha seriously then. He took Misha' face between his hands, and pulled him forward until their noses were only inches apart. "I'm sorry," Jensen said. "I'm sure I've seemed like a bit of a d-bag, but I felt into you before I even really talked to you. Which was weird. Then there was the guy online, which I actually thought might work out. So yah. Sorry."

"It's no worries Jensen, you seem...cool too."

Jensen released Misha's face and went back to being silent. Inwardly, Misha groaned. This evening was going so well and so terribly. When Jensen woke up tomorrow and remembered their conversation, the poor guy was going to be mortified. On the other hand, Jensen liked him. He felt into Misha. For the first time, Misha felt hopeful that Jensen wouldn't completely freak out when he found out who DaddyFirst was. For the moment, there were more important things though. Jensen had passed staggeringly drunk, and was working his way towards comatose. Misha was fit, but he was certain he wouldn't be able to get Jensen's dead-weight to and from the car by himself.

"Hey Jense," Misha tried. The nickname just slipped out, but he figured Jensen was probably too drunk to notice anyway.

"Mm."

"I think we should head out now. The bar's closing soon."

"S'not for another hour."

Dammit. How Jensen could tell time when he was that far in the bag...

"Well, either way..."

"You know wha we shuddo?"

"Go to bed?" Misha tried.

Jensen looked like he was trying to think of something to do with that opening, but after a moment he gave up.

"Should let me show you this view. It's beautiful."

"It's night though. We won't be able to see the view anyway."

"Nah," Jensen said. "It's even better at night cause of the lights."

Well so much for that then.

"Anyway, we still have an hour."

Jensen got up then, and Misha figured he must be going to the bathroom. He had been fidgeting the last little while. Instead of heading to the toilets though, Jensen made a beeline to the bar. Misha watched as Jensen stood there, shifting his weight. It was hard to tell if the boy had to pee or was just impatient with having to wait. Either seemed likely.

After what seemed like an eternity to Misha, the server finally came by to let Jensen and Misha know that it was time to settle up. Jensen didn't lift his head from the table; he just waved his credit card at Misha and mumbled the password. "Get your's too," Jensen slurred. Misha was going to argue, but then he thought about it. Jensen owed him for this evening, and the night wasn't even over yet.

Once Misha had paid and tipped their waitress heavily, he put Jensen's arm around his shoulder and heaved, helping Jense to stand. Jensen looked around dazedly for a moment before he focused on the exit. Even while the man could barely walk, Misha could feel him squirming.

"Jensen, do you want to use the washroom before we go?" Misha asked.

"No. I'm good."

Misha thought about insisting, but he was out with Jensen as a friend, not as his daddy. Instead, Misha led them in an awkward shamble towards the exit. Getting Jensen to the car and buckled into the front seat wasn't nearly as bad as Misha thought it would be. It was once Misha started the car that the problems began.

"Alright Jensen. I need you to direct me to your house."

"Nope," Jensen replied. "We're going to the lookout. You're new. You have to see Vancouver."

"I've seen Vancouver, and you're loaded."

"No," Jensen argued. "You need to see it."

And finally Misha was fed up. He took Jensen by the shoulders and forced the man to look at him. Drawing himself up, Misha looked at Jensen sternly. "Jensen Ackles. I am taking you home, and you are going to tell me how to get there. Now."

Jensen seemed to crumple before Misha's eyes.

"Sorry," he said.

Misha sighed, and resisted the urge to rub Jensen's back consolingly. "It's ok buddy. You're not feeling like yourself right now. That's why we need to get you home."

Jensen closed his eyes and slumped over, so that his head was resting against Misha's chest. He leaned his head back and looked up at Misha blearily. "Go right, then left at the lights," he said.

"Thank you," Misha said.

"Mm," was Jensen's only reply. He made no effort to remove his head from where it rested against Misha. Even though it wasn't the easiest to drive with Jensen's head weighing down his right arm, the contact felt good emotionally, so Misha let Jensen stay as he was.

Jensen was surprisingly adept at giving directions when he was drunk. Misha hoped it wasn't from extensive practice.

"How much longer," Misha asked finally. He was doing fine, but after only a few minutes of driving, Jensen had started fidgeting again as he had been in the bar. The squirming was only getting worse the longer the ride took. Misha couldn't believe that Jensen was still oblivious to his body's obvious needs, but he was making no effort to do anything except wriggle around.

Finally, Jensen spoke. "Another fifteen to twenty." He paused. "Misha?"

"Yah," Misha asked, worried he already knew what Jensen was going to say.

"Can we maybe pull over?"

Misha sighed. Yupp.

"What for?"

Jensen squirmed from a combination of desperation and embarrassment. "I need to piss."

"Can you hold it? I don't know what would be open this time of night."

Jensen thought about it. "I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe?"

"Can't you just let me out on the side of the road?"

Misha frowned. "Jensen, I'm not letting you pee on the side of the road. What if a cop comes by?"

Jensen mumbled something incoherently, but otherwise he didn't argue.

They continued to drive in silence, other than the occasional request for directions from Misha and response from Jensen. Misha kept a close watch on the other man though out of the corner of his eye. It was becoming painfully obvious how badly Jensen had to go. He was completely restless and had resorted to holding himself through his jeans. Misha would have found the whole thing incredibly hot if he couldn't see how uncomfortable Jensen was and didn't know how awkward his friend would be feeling tomorrow.

"Look buddy," Misha said soothingly. "We're almost there. You said so yourself. Not too much longer now."

Jensen whimpered.

Misha couldn't help reaching out the rub the tousled head that was still resting against him. "Shh. You're fine. It's going to be alright. Just focus on giving me directions."

Jensen squirmed; his face was screwed up in pain.

"Left or right buddy?"

"L-left," Jensen managed.

"Good job. We're almost there." Misha kept up a slew of encouragements as they drove, but Jensen was growing more and more antsy. He was whining almost constantly. It was sheer force of will that had stopped him from wetting himself long ago.

Finally, Jensen gasped with relief. "We're here. Quick Misha."

Misha pulled the car into the driveway of a large house. He didn't get a chance to inspect the property, because as soon as the car stopped moving, Jensen was pulling at his seat belt frantically.

"Hey, hey, just hang on," Misha soothed. He batted Jensen's hands away and undid the buckle with ease. As soon as he was free, Jensen bolted from the car. Misha ran to catch up, but Jensen had a head start on him.

Misha saw it coming before it happened. Jensen's foot caught on an uneven part of the stone driveway. With his balance already off, Jensen fell face-first to the ground. If Misha had any hope before that Jensen might manage to hold out, it was gone the minute Misha heard the smack and the sob that followed it.

Misha sped up and reached Jensen in moments. He knelt down and rubbed the boy's back as he watched the growing puddle begin to run in rivulets down the driveway.

"Oh baby," Misha said softly.

And that was all it took. The next thing Misha knew, Jensen was clutching at his shirt. Tears streamed down the little boy's face. Misha couldn't help it; he wrapped Jensen in his arms and held him as close as was physically possible. It wasn't enough. Misha could never be close enough.

Jensen wiped his face. His hands left smears of blood against his cheek.

Misha pulled Jensen's hands to him, palms up. "Oh," Jensen said dumbly. His hands were scratched and weeping. All the cuts were shallow, but they would be painful tomorrow.

"Come on," Misha said as he helped Jensen to stand. "Let's get you inside." Slowly, they made their way slowly to the front door. Misha used Jensen's keys to unlock it, and he held the door open as Jensen stumbled inside. Misha made a decision then. He wasn't going anywhere tonight. There was no way Jensen could take care of himself, and besides, taking care of Jensen was just what Misha had been dying to do since he met him.

"Upstairs," Misha said, and Jensen complied wordlessly. He had stopped whimpering; now the tears tracked silently down his cheeks. Misha managed to get Jensen to direct him to the bathroom. As soon as they got there and Misha let go of him to turn on the bathtub, Jensen slumped to the tiled floor.

"Jensen," Misha called. He dropped down beside Jensen and slapped his cheek lightly. "Jensen, you have to wake up."

"No," Jensen moaned.

"Yes. If you don't get up now you'll fall asleep here and I won't be able to get you cleaned up."

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," Misha said firmly.

"Just want to sleep," Jensen moaned.

"You can in a moment, but first you have to get clean." Misha deliberately used his best daddy voice, and he managed to coax Jensen back into standing. Once the water was warm, Misha helped Jensen into the shower, fully clothed. The first time Misha saw Jensen naked was not going to be like this.

After several minutes of silence, Misha started to get worried. "Jensen?" he called.

There was a soft groan from inside the shower. "Don't feel good."

"I know baby. Are you undressed yet?"

"Mhm."

"Good. Take some soap and wash yourself off. Then we'll get you snuggled into bed."

Misha heard a smash as something hit the bathtub floor, followed by Jensen swearing. He was about to offer to help, but then he heard a bottle cap pop open and banging, which had to be Jensen attempting to wash himself. When all was silent again, Misha gathered that Jensen was as clean as he was going to get tonight. He grabbed a towel and passed it through the shower curtain. "Come on," Misha said encouragingly. "Time to get out. It's bedtime."

Jensen's wet head popped around the shower curtain. "Bed?" he said hopefully.

Misha laughed. "Yes, bed."

"Thank Christ," Jensen muttered. He let Misha help him back out of the shower and into a pair of boxers. Try as he might, Misha couldn't convince Jensen to put on anything else, and in the end, he figured it really didn't matter.

Misha pulled back the covers on Jensen's bed and helped hoist him into it. Before grabbing a garbage can to place on the floor by the bed, Misha tucked the covers up around Jensen. He looked down at the angelic face. Oh, what the hell. Misha leaned down and planted a kiss on Jensen's forehead. Jensen's eyelashes fluttered, but otherwise he was gone to the world.

Misha found the light switch. Using his phone as a light, he made his way over to a large recliner and flopped down. Misha was pleased when his body sunk gently into the monstrous chair. Within moments, despite his worry about Jensen and what tomorrow would bring, Misha was fast asleep.

Chapter Text

Jensen groaned. With his eyes closed, he took a moment to assess the damage from last night. And good God, he felt like death. His head was going to split in two, and his guts felt rotten. Yes, today would be a write-off.

"Jensen?" said a tired voice.

Had he brought someone home? Jensen rolled and saw Misha sitting in the chair by his bed. That view was all it took to bring back flashes from the previous night. And Jensen wished he could forget again. He had been loaded. In all likelihood he'd been a dick. He was pretty sure he had cried. And holy shit, he had definitely pissed himself. "Why," he groaned, burying his face in the blankets.

Jensen felt the bed dip as Misha sat down beside him. "Don't hide Jense."

Shuddering at both the nickname and the hands that gently tried to pull the blankets away from him, Jensen burrowed further into the bed. Yupp. Dean definitely has to be killed off now.The writers could make it a cool scene though. At least the guy could go out with a bang.

"Jensen. It's okay."

Jensen was sure that Misha meant to be reassuring, but the guy was full of shit. "Were we at the same bar last night? Did we drive here together? Because if you were there for any part of last night you know that none of that was okay."

"No really," Misha said. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Something obviously had you upset. You weren't feeling yourself."

"God Misha, stop being so nice about this. You had to deal with everything. You must think I'm so messed up."

Misha surprised Jensen by choosing that moment to yank the covers down from his face. Caught unaware, Jensen lost hold of the blankets and found himself staring up at Misha's bright blue eyes. "There you are," Misha smiled warmly. "I don't think you're messed up, and I wasn't bothered by any part of last night. Well, except for seeing you so upset."

"Ok, well thanks," Jensen said. He started to get out of bed since clearly Misha wasn't going to leave him alone. Maybe if he made an effort to seem fine Misha would go.

If anything, Jensen's actions had the opposite effect. Misha sighed. "You don't believe a word I'm saying, do you?"

"No man, it's good. I appreciate what you did. I'll just go get showered and I'll see you at work later. I'm guessing after last night you know the way to the door."

Instead of accepting the brush off as Jensen thought he would, Misha just looked disappointed. "I'm not doing a very good job of this," the other man said.

"Of what?"

"Of convincing you that I actually enjoyed last night. Again, not seeing you hurt, but getting to... help you like that."

Jensen wondered what Misha had started to say before changing his mind, but his head was pounding too much to make analyzing his costar an option.

"Look," said Misha. "If you give me a moment, I think I can make all of this okay. After I show you something if you still want me to, I'll leave."

Jensen hesitated. He was too miserable to be curious about what Misha wanted to show him. If it was the only way to be left alone to suffer in peace though... "Yah, ok."

Misha beamed. "Can I borrow your laptop?"

"It's in the office. First door beyond this one." Jensen lay back in the bed as Misha took off. He no longer felt overwhelmed with guilt; he felt freaking exhausted.

.................................................................

Misha found the computer quickly and ran back to Jensen's bedroom. The boy's embarrassment was painful to watch. Misha would do whatever it took to wipe that mortified look off Jensen's face. And what he had planned would definitely accomplish that. Whether the expression was replaced by pleasure or fury was not something Misha wanted to think about though.

When Misha rejoined Jensen, he again suppressed his misgivings and sat down on the man's bed.

He kept the laptop facing away from Jensen while he loaded his account on carersandlittles.com. Then, once his conversation with DeanABC123 had loaded, Misha turned the laptop around so Jensen could see. The look of humiliation that greeted him was the last thing Misha expected, as was the sickly paleness that washed across Jensen's face. Misha had just enough time to pull the laptop out of the way before Jensen was violently ill all over himself and his covers.

As soon as Misha realized what was happening he stood up so he could put a hand on Jensen's back. He rubbed circles in what he hoped was a comforting fashion. Eventually Jensen stopped heaving. He didn't look away from the mess on the bed though. In fact, Jensen made no move to do anything.

Ok. Time to take over. He hadn't gotten to talk to Jensen about it yet, but Misha knew now was the right time for "daddy mode" even if Jensen didn't want him in the long term.

"Come on Jensen," Misha said gently. At the sound of his name, Jensen looked up. His eyes were red and watery from the force of being ill. Even if he didn't want this man as his little boy, Misha's heart would have gone out to him. He pulled Jensen's covers back, being careful not to spread the mess to the bedding beneath the heavy outer blanket. "Come on," he said again, and this time Misha gave Jensen his arm. Misha almost sighed with relief when Jensen actually took his hand and used it to stand.

Jensen said nothing as Misha led him to the bathroom. If anything, Misha almost wished Jensen would freak out or yell or swear or something. Anything would be better than the blank stare.

When they got to the bathroom, Misha hesitated. How much could he get away with? In the end, going about the clean up the same way as last night seemed best. Misha ran the shower, and when the temperature was right, he told Jensen to get in. For the first time since getting sick, Jensen looked at him with some sort of emotion: confusion. Misha could work with that.

"Just climb in and pass your dirty clothes out to me." Misha expected Jensen to protest, but his little boy just got into the shower as directed.

Once Misha had Jensen's soiled clothes in hand, Misha instructed Jensen to get washed up and to call out once he had finished. In the meantime, Misha went back to Jensen's room to strip the bed. It took a bit of exploring, but eventually Misha found the washing machine. He threw the bedding in along with Jensen's two sets of dirty clothes. Thankfully, extra sheets were stored in the laundry room. Misha grabbed a set and went back up to remake Jensen's bed. He had just finished when he heard a haggard voice call his name.

Misha brought Jensen a towel and clean pajamas, then he waited outside the bathroom door for Jensen to finish up. After a few minutes the door creaked open and Jensen's head appeared from within. He started when he saw Misha waiting for him. Misha gave no chance for protest though; instead, he took Jensen's arm and led him back to the freshly-made bed.

"Now," Misha said, once Jensen was settled back under his covers. "What was all that about?"

Jensen turned painfully red, but at least he didn't look like he was going to be sick again. "You saw my account. I always make sure to log out. But now you know everything..."

Misha wanted to hit his head against the wall. I'm an absolute idiot.

"Jensen, that wasn't your account we were on; it was mine."

"But then how-"

Jensen still looked confused, so Misha took pity on him. "I'm DaddyFirst99," Misha said as he placed a comforting arm on Jensen's shoulder.

"You're-"

"Yes baby."

Jensen said nothing, until Misha couldn't stand it anymore. "Jensen-"

Jensen cut him off though. "I was so worried you hated me. Both of you actually. And I didn't want to pursue you because of him, but he's you..."

It was too early in the conversation to smile. But God it was hard not to. "I could never hate you sweetheart. You have no idea how much our play night meant to me."

"Until I screwed it up."

"You didn't screw it up, but yes, even after you got upset it was a perfect night. The only thing that would have made it better was if you were with me at the time so I could have watched you play and comforted you properly."

Jensen looked up at Misha quickly then. "How long have you known?"

......................................................................

Jensen's mind would have been spinning even without the alcohol. "How long have you known?" he asked.

"I suspected since you mentioned the Crown Mountain hike to me both at work and online in the same day."

Jensen didn't quite know what he felt. There were far to many emotions all jumbled together in his head. The haze that comes with a hangover didn't help either. Finally, one feeling made itself known above the others, and Jensen seized it gratefully. "So you've know for that long and didn't say anything? What the fuck Misha?"

Misha stared at him with wide blue eyes. He looked so earnest that it was hard not to trust him. Jensen was not feeling accommodating though.

"I didn't know how to bring it up without upsetting you. I wanted to talk to you as Misha, not as DaddyFirst, but there was never a good time."

Misha had a point, but still. "Well guess what, I'm upset." Jensen growled. He felt tears pricking his eyes, and wasn't that just fucking perfect? There was just too much to process. The embarrassment over recent events; the relief that DaddyFirst was Misha and Misha seemed to care that Jensen was upset; the anger and betrayal of Misha holding back information. It was more emotion than Jensen could handle in a week, let along one very hungover morning. He felt sick again.

Misha must have noticed, because even as he asked, "are you okay," he was already passing Jensen a trash can.

Sweat began dripping off his face, and Jensen threw the covers off himself, suddenly unbearably warm. He clutched the bucket Misha was holding for him, doing his best not to moan. The discomfort built in his stomach again until Jensen began to hope he could just throw up and have it over with.

Moments later, Jensen got his wish. His nose filled with the vile smell of alcohol and stomach acid, which only made him feel worse. The whole time Jensen was throwing up, Misha held the bucket with one hand and rubbed his back with the other. The touch was both so comforting and so unwelcome that Jensen couldn't figure out whether to arch into Misha's hand or slap it away.

Finally Jensen stopped heaving. "All done?" Misha asked.

Jensen nodded and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. He lay back in bed while Misha disappeared with his garbage can. When the older man came back, he was bearing the washed-out bucket, a cool facecloth, and a glass of water. He handed the cup to Jensen. "Rinse and spit," he instructed.

Jensen did as directed, then sunk back against his pillows. Now where were they?

It was as though Misha read his mind. "Maybe we should wait for later to have this conversation."

"No. I can't deal with this hanging over my head all day. Let's get it over with."

Misha hesitated. "I'd rather not get anything over with. Honestly, I would really like to start something." He reached to wipe Jensen's forehead with the cloth, but the other man flinched away. Misha handed Jensen the towel in resignation. "Look Jensen, everything I said to you both online and in person was true. I have been a daddy before, and I would like to be again. Dean seemed like the perfect little boy for me, and finding out that you are Dean only made that feeling stronger. What about this is bothering you?"

Jensen couldn't even believe that Misha had to ask. "That you didn't tell me as soon as you found out that we were talking to each other online. God Misha-"

Misha cut him off. "If you were me when would you have approached you?"

Jensen hesitated, and finally dropped his gaze. "I guess I don't know," he said finally. "It just feels like..."

"Like what?"

"Like this was all fake. Just a chance to find out all this shit and have a good laugh later."

Misha frowned, and Jensen could read the hurt on the other man's face. His expression brightened though in a moment of inspiration. "Why would I still be here then?" Misha asked, sounding curious himself. "I mean, I have the emails, maybe I grab some pictures from last night. There's my laugh. Why would I stay?"

Jensen pursed his lips. It was a good point. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Ok, so let's say that you believe I'm not here for chuckles. What else is bothering you?"

"Why?"

"Why what?" Misha asked.

"Why do you like this?" Jensen waved his arms, encompassing the puke bucket, the mussed blankets on the bed that Misha had already remade once, the ill little boy, everything.

"It makes me feel useful. No, that's not right. Needed, I guess." Misha shrugged. "It brings me comfort, giving comfort to others. There's more to it, but it's hard to put into words I guess."

"Then why me?"

Misha smiled. "That's an easy one. For all the same reasons as before I knew it was you who I was talking to. You're a sweet, caring little boy, and being around you brings me joy. Also, we share a lot of the same adult interests. You're easy to talk to, when you're not being forced to talk about your emotions." Misha broadened his grin so Jensen would recognize the joke. "Besides, I think you need me too."

Misha reached out and ruffled Jensen's hair, earning a small smile from the boy. Emboldened by that response, Misha said, "Look Jensen, this is a lot to take in, let alone when you aren't feeling well. Don't make a decision today, but know that I really want a chance to be your daddy. We can set whatever rules and boundaries we need to make us both comfortable, but that is something to worry about if you accept. Whatever you decide, I won't tell anyone else about any of this and things don't have to be awkward between us. You say the word and none of this ever happened. I really hope you'll consider my offer once you're feeling better though."

"I promise," Jensen said. It was a reasonable request, especially after everything Misha had done for him in the last few days.

Misha smiled. "Good boy," he said. Jensen was a bit taken aback, but he grinned at Misha so the other man would know he wasn't bothered by the comment. If anything, the praise made Jensen feel just a little less shitty. Right then, that was a big deal.

Misha stood up. It took all Jensen's acting experience to hide his disappointment. Now that they had the conversation, Misha would head home. Fair enough.

Instead of walking out the door though, Misha retrieved his chair from the previous night and dragged it over to Jensen's bed.

"Misha?" Jensen asked.

"Don't worry baby. This doesn't mean anything, but there is no way I'm leaving you alone in this state."

Jensen knew he should tell Misha not to worry about him and to go home. That would be the unselfish thing to do, but fuck it. Jensen was miserable, and having Misha there was nice... comforting if he was being honest. Instead, Jensen made his eyes big and turned the corners of his mouth down ever so slightly. "Don't feel good," he said quietly.

"I know sweetheart," Misha said gently. "Lie on your side and I'll rub your back. Try to get some sleep."

"But if I fall asleep wake me up before you go." Jensen couldn't fall asleep if there was the possibility of waking up alone, with only hangover-guilt to occupy him.

"I told you I'm not going anywhere."

Jensen wasn't convinced.

"Alright, I'm not going anywhere, but if for some reason I do go somewhere, I will wake you up before I do." Misha drew a cross over his heart in mock gravity. Jensen didn't laugh though, and finally Misha said, "I promise."

Jensen felt content with that, and he rolled over to let Misha stroke his back. While his stomach still roiled and his head still pounded, and guilt over his previous night's actions still niggled at him, Jensen felt himself relax under Misha's ministrations. It was becoming harder to keep his eyes open. He realized something then that pulled him right back to wakefulness: Jensen trusted Misha. And after such a short time of knowing him. More than that, the idea of Misha leaving was much more upsetting than it should be. But that had been the thing with Misha from the start, right? Jensen felt drawn to him in a way that was both frightening and irresistible. Confusing and undeniable. Jensen didn't believe in love at first sight, but he did believe in natural compatibility. If he thought it existed for couples and friends, then why couldn't it for daddies and their littles?

Jensen turned his head back to look at Misha's open, caring face. If he didn't at least try to make this work he was the world's biggest fool. "Daddy?" he said, and he heard Misha's quick inhale.

"Yes, baby?" Misha replied cautiously.

"That's all," Jensen said, satisfaction rushing through him to fill every space.

He rolled over so he was facing Misha. Wrapping his arms around Misha's legs, the only part of the man that was within easy reach, Jensen buried his face in Misha's lap and held on tightly. He felt a warm hand run fingers through his hair. "Daddy," Jensen sighed, and he beamed. He had never felt happier, hangover and all.

Chapter Text

Misha was already worrying about what the day would bring as he walked to work that morning. But that wasn't right. Jensen was probably feeling unbearably anxious, poor little boy. Misha was the Daddy now, and he needed to keep his own misgivings under control so he could help deal with Jensen's.

After Jensen was sick for a third time the previous day, Misha had convinced him to take some Gravol. For the rest of the day, the boy drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time Jensen woke up, he would look around wildly for Misha, as though making sure his daddy's presence wasn't a dream. It was ridiculously cute, but it also made Misha realize they wouldn't be able to have a real conversation that day. He would have to wait for Jensen to be fully present. Misha stayed at Jensen's house until late evening. While it was tempting to stick around for a second night, he knew that would be crossing an unspoken line of too much too soon; besides, it would be awkward enough seeing each-other at work the next day, without first waking up in the same bedroom. Instead, Misha woke Jensen up long enough to explain that he was leaving and to give the boy another dose of Gravol. Then, he pulled the covers up around Jensen's ears, made sure the trash can was close, and headed back to his own home. Misha's flat was dark and empty when he got home. It made the comfortable warmth of Jensen's bedroom seem worlds away, and he had to remind himself that the day's events had been real. Misha was Jensen Ackles' daddy now. He had done it. That thought calmed Misha enough that he could settle in for a much-needed deep sleep.

As Misha got closer to the set of Supernatural, his apprehension grew. Try as he might, he could not lose the feeling that the day would be rough. Jensen would likely be worried after waking up alone; Jared would be wondering what had happened to them the previous night; and Misha had to deal with the fact that he and Jensen had not discussed the terms of their new relationship. Misha knew with certainty that Jensen would be looking to his example for how to act today. If Misha was too obviously in daddy-mode Jensen would be uncomfortable, but if he acted no differently, his little boy would probably start thinking the worst, that Misha had changed his mind or some other nonsense.

Misha had lots of time to decide how to handle the day though, since Jensen was late even for him. His costar ran in a half hour after they were supposed to start. Jensen offered a quick apology, and while it was said to the director, Jensen's guilt-filled gaze was directed towards Misha. Interesting. Misha raised an eyebrow, and Jensen blushed. When it became obvious that Misha wasn't going to comment, Jensen grew even more red before rushing off to get ready for the day.

"What was that about?" Jared asked as he approached Misha from behind.

Misha just managed not to jump. "Oh, he was pretty drunk by the end of the other night. He was probably pretty hungover yesterday."

Jared shrugged. "Not a normal thing for him, but not that unusual."

"He's probably just worried about what he said the other night."

"What did he say?" Jared asked.

Well shit. The man seemed even more curious now. Way to go Misha.

"He just rambled for awhile."

Jared grinned suddenly. "About the internet guy?"

"Internet guy?"

"He met some guy on the internet," Jared explained. "He won't admit it, but he seems really into him. Haven't seen Jensen so interested in anyone for awhile actually."

It was Misha's turn to suppress a blush. He could only pray he did a better job than Jensen. For a good actor, the guy was terrible at hiding embarrassment.

"Yah," Misha managed. "Now that you mention it, he was rambling about some guy. I just didn't know who he was on about. Anyway, I need to read over one part of the script again. See you in a bit."

Misha escaped to his trailer before Jared could make anymore comments about Jensen's feelings towards the "internet guy." Not that Misha didn't want to hear, but it felt too much like an invasion of Jensen's privacy. With nothing else to do before they started filming the first scene, Misha went to fetch his script. He had plenty of time to look over it yesterday while Jensen was sleeping, but it would take his mind off of Jensen and how badly he wanted to go running after his boy.

....................................................

Jensen managed to make it through his scenes that morning without too many slip ups. Even Jared seemed to recognize his desire to get through the day efficiently, because he refrained from any of his usual pranks or attempts to make Jensen laugh. Misha received more of the "Jared treatment", but something seemed to be on Collins' mind, and Jared wasn't able to get the usual impressive reaction from their costar.

Jensen managed to hide in his trailer for most of the morning when he wasn't filming. It wasn't necessarily that he was avoiding his colleagues, especially not Misha, but he wasn't sure how to act or what to say. Finally, someone knocked. Expecting to be called to his next scene, Jensen threw open the door, and came face-to-face with Misha Collins. Scratch that. The raised eyebrows and slight frown suggested Daddy Misha.

Jensen stood in silence, weighing his options. The urge to shut and lock his trailer door was almost overwhelming, but somehow he didn't think he would get away with that. Jensen was pretty sure he could outrun Misha, but then he would have some explaining to do to the rest of the cast and crew.

The choice was taken out of Jensen's hands, when Misha grasped his elbow firmly and gently pushed him back into the trailer.

When the door closed behind Misha, Jensen's instinctive need to play it cool kicked in. "You just got off set right? Thirsty?" he asked Misha.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Jensen busied himself with pouring his own drink and tidying the already pristine space. Eventually though, Jensen ran out of ways to procrastinate, and he still hadn't been summoned to the set.

"Jensen," Misha said finally. "Come have a seat."

Jensen followed Misha's order and sat facing him across the trailer's tiny table. "So how's it going? Good times with Jared?"

Misha sighed. "It's going to be like this then?"

"No. I guess there's no point," Jensen said, looking down at his hands, which were clasped on the table in front of him. "I should say 'thank you' to start. I didn't really clue into everything you did for me until this morning. So, sorry for that and thank you."

"Anytime Baby," Misha said with a small smile. He reached up and cupped Jensen's cheek, following to maintain contact when his boy flinched away.

They sat like that until Jensen realized how tense he was and allowed his shoulders to relax. Misha must have noticed the change, because he dropped his hand back to the table. Looking into Misha's smiling eyes, Jensen suddenly remembered why he had decided to trust the man sitting before him.

"Sorry for avoiding you today," Jensen said, feeling contrite.

"It's ok. We didn't really get to talk about things yesterday. I'm not surprised that you're uncomfortable."

"What about you?"

"I was nervous coming here," Misha admitted.

Good. Jensen thought. So it wasn't just him.

"So now what?" Jensen asked.

"Well," Misha said. "I was thinking we should have a full conversation about this. Tonight, say? Then, once we've figured everything out we could have some real playtime."

Jensen's eyes grew huge. "Really?"

Misha chuckled. "You'd like that, hey?"

Jensen nodded quickly, and Misha laughed again at his enthusiasm.

"Alright. Why don't we head from to your place from the set. We can spend the evening there."

Jensen considered Misha's suggestion. Being truly little again for the first time would probably be less scary if it was in his own space. Maybe that was why Misha suggested using his house. Made sense.

"Yah, that sounds good," Jensen agreed finally.

"Excellent." Misha beamed at him, then stood up to leave.

Jensen walked Misha to the entrance of his trailer and held the door open for his daddy to leave. As soon as Jensen had privacy again he let himself grin like a madman. A whole evening with his daddy. He had to be the luckiest kid ever.

................................................

Misha found it almost impossible to make it through the rest of his work day after he spoke with Jensen. He was far too excited for the evening to focus on anything other than what he would do with his baby that night. On the bright side, their talk seemed to have relaxed Jensen. The man surfaced from his trailer shortly after Misha left and didn't retreat back to hiding when his scenes were finished. He spoke openly with Misha, without so much as a hint of a blush. By the end of the day, Jensen was even helping Jared torment Jim. Misha just shook his head. The talk with Jensen had been a good idea, but Beaver would probably clock him if he found out that Misha was the cause of Jensen's renewed energy.

Misha and Jensen had their final scene of the day together. Thankfully, Jared wasn't involved and was occupied with filming on another set. This time they didn't need an excuse to leave together, but Misha began to grasp that this could be an issue down the road. Jensen and Jared were close friends, and they spent a lot of time together. Besides that, Jared liked to know what was going on in his friends' lives. Definitely could be an issue.

Any worries for the future were wiped from Misha's mind when he saw Jensen walking towards him. Forget walking, his boy looked so light and carefree he was practically skipping. Jensen moderated his step when he saw Misha watching him though. When Jensen reached him, Misha resisted the impulse to take his hand. They were still at work after-all, and neither of them needed the speculation that would start following them if they were seen getting too close. Instead, Misha settled for walking side-by-side with Jensen to the other man's car.

It was only a short drive to Jensen's house, and Misha finally found himself seated across a coffee table from Jensen. The other man was relaxing back into a leather armchair, the picture of ease. Time to change that. Misha thought wryly.

"Okay, Jensen," Misha started. There was no point postponing the inevitable. "Let's talk about the other night."

Jensen nodded, but Misha saw him stiffen, although he maintained his easy pose.

"I guess my first question is what do you want from this?"

Jensen froze up. Finally he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Way to start with the easy questions, Misha."

Misha shrugged. "Well, you don't have to explain everything to me at once. Why don't we start slowly with just some short play times or specific scenes if you like. Once we see how that goes we can decide if we want to try longer sessions."

Jensen nodded slowly. "Sounds reasonable."

"And is there anything you really want me to do? Or don't want me to do?"

"I don't know," Jensen said.

Misha frowned. "I need you to tell me if something bothers you. Don't worry about hurting my feelings."

"I know." Jensen looked like he wasn't going to speak again, but finally he sighed. "I used to know what I liked. But things have changed. I don't always know anymore until I get in the moment. Stuff I used to be okay with I just..." Jensen shrugged.

"Okay, well if you think of anything let me know. And you remember your safeword from the other night, yes?"

Jensen nodded.

"Well alright then," Misha smiled. "What do you say little boy, should we get you into some comfier clothes?"

Jensen grinned. "Yes please Daddy!"

"Why don't you show me where your special items are?"

Misha suppressed a laugh at Jensen, who jumped to his feet and ran to the stairs. Following behind at a slower pace, Misha was surprised to see Jensen head into the office rather than his bedroom. There, within the closet, was a bag, hidden within another bag, hidden within a third. When all the extra packaging had been unwrapped, the final bag was depressingly small. From it, Jensen reverently withdrew a small Lego kit, a pacifier, a colouring book, and a half empty pack of pull-ups.

Misha looked on, feeling awkward. 'Is that it', didn't feel like the right thing to say. Misha mentally rearranged his schedule for his next day off; it was obvious he needed to get so some supplies for his little boy. For now, Misha just smiled. He took the pacifier from Jensen's hand and eased it into the boy's mouth. For a moment, Jensen seemed confused, as though he had never used it before. Maybe he hadn't, not for awhile anyway. After a moment though, Jensen started to suck, and he smiled serenely at Misha from around his soother.

Misha took Jensen by the hand and led him towards the bedroom. "Do you have something you want to wear?" he asked?

Jensen nodded and walked over to his dresser, from which he withdrew a t-shirt and sweatpants. They were as appropriate as any adult clothes could be. Misha took the proffered clothing, before helping Jensen out of his jeans. It was difficult, but Misha managed to hide his smile when he removed Jensen's pants, revealing a pull-up. He had figured that Jensen wearing the disposable briefs to work had been a one-off. The fact that Jensen was comfortable enough to keep wearing them made Misha warm with pleasure.

"Are you still dry?" Misha asked.

Jensen blushed, but he nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

However long it took, Misha would get Jensen over this shyness. He would never get over the thrill of hearing Jensen say 'Daddy' though.

Once Jensen was dressed, Misha suggested taking out the Legos, remembering that Jensen had enjoyed them the previous time they had "played". "No, don't feel like it," Jensen said. Misha wouldn't have thought much about it, but there was a shake in Jensen's voice, and his eyes seemed to wider than normal. What about this then?" Misha asked, holding out the colouring book instead. As much as Misha knew he would have to pry into the Lego issue at some point, he couldn't bring himself to right then. Misha just wanted a fun first night with his boy.

Jensen nodded with a grin, and Misha was certain he had made the right choice. He sat down in the recliner that he was beginning to think of as 'his chair'. With the colouring book in hand, Jensen stretched out on his belly at Misha's feet. Jensen quickly became absorbed in his coloring, but Misha saw the boy's eyes flicker anytime he shifted in the chair, and he knew Jensen was keeping a close watch for signs of Misha leaving. It was difficult, but Misha tried not to let Jensen's uncertainty bother him. This was new, and trust would grow on both of their sides.

Eventually it grew late, and Misha reluctantly stood up from his chair. "Time for bed, baby," he said.

Jensen frowned. "Not yet, Daddy."

Misha was determined to get the little boy down for a good sleep though. Jensen had a long weekend and it would take a couple of nights to recover. Misha finally managed to coax Jensen into brushing his teeth and getting into bed. Although he thought about offering to read a story, Jensen's eyes were already starting to blink against the urge to sleep; instead, Misha rubbed his boy's hair until Jensen drifted fully into dreamland. Misha called a cab, then snuck from Jensen's room.

As Misha rode home in the back seat of his taxi, he reflected on the evening. It had been quiet, relaxed, and relatively tame as far as age-play went. Overall though, the night was perfect. Jensen had been calm and comfortable the whole time, which had been Misha's main goal. For Misha though, the evening was a reminder of how much he missed being a daddy. The large green eyes that watched him, only to turn quickly away when Misha caught him staring, had been full of affection. Those eyes stayed with Misha the rest of the evening as he combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and finally slipped into his own bed. It had been a perfect night, so long as it was just the beginning of something bigger; Misha would make certain that it was.

.................................................

Jensen lay curled up in his bed. He listened as his front door closed, and he forced down the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him. His night with Misha had been perfect until the man had decided to call it an evening. While Jensen knew it was unlikely that Misha would sleep over, he couldn't help his disappointment when Misha - Daddy - decided it was time for bed, and made it apparent he wouldn't be staying. With that as his only complaint though, Jensen would count the night a success. He had a wonderful time playing, and Misha was everything Jensen had known he would be - caring, gentle, firm, and loving.

Jensen burrowed into his covers, imagining his Daddy laying beside him. Before Misha had left, the two men had agreed to spend the coming weekend together. It was a few days away, but that would give Jensen time to prepare and to wrap his head around things. For now though, Jensen drifted off to sleep, unable to remember a time when he had felt safer or happier.

Chapter Text

It was finally Friday, and Jensen was barely maintaining his usual outward calm. Tonight he was heading out for his typical Friday evening with Jared, and the next day would begin his first extended time with Misha. The other man had suggested they stick to shorter play sessions at first and ease into more extended periods of age-play, but Jensen had been promised a full weekend, and goddamit, he was going to cash in on every minute of it.

For once Jensen wasn't late for work. He was a bit disappointed Misha wasn't in today; Misha would have been proud of him for being on time. Despite Misha's absence, Jensen had a good day. He and Jared got through each scene efficiently. As well, the episode they were filming had some great comedic moments. Between that and Jared's usual pestering of the other cast and crew, Jensen's face was sore from laughing by the end of the day.

When Jensen was finished for the evening, he found Jared waiting for him by their cars. "Pourhouse?" Jared said.

Jensen rolled his eyes with a grin. Every week they hit the Pourhouse, and each time Jared asked as if there was a doubt.

"See you there," Jensen said. He got into his car without waiting for Jared's response. The taller man stopped leaning against his own car and followed Jensen's example.

Jensen rolled down his window. "Early night though," he called. "I think I'm still recovering from a few nights ago." Besides, there was no way Jensen was going to be hungover for his first time hanging out with Misha.

Jared laughed. "Sounds good man," he said before rolling up his own window.

Jensen waited for Jared to start driving before he pulled out of the parking lot behind his friend. He always looked forward to a night out with Jared no matter how often they got together. As he drove to the pub though, Jensen's thoughts were all on Misha.

.................................................

Misha didn't have work that day. Normally, he found his days off dull. He still hadn't fully gotten a feel for what there was to do in Vancouver, and he had yet to meet many people outside of work. That day though, Misha was looking forward to time off. He had a mission to complete before the weekend: Misha was going shopping for his boy.

With the entire day stretching out before him, Misha didn't put too much thought into making a schedule. He searched the web for nearby stores that carried toys and baby supplies, but Misha ultimately planned to wander and wait for inspiration to strike. The hardest part would be figuring out what Jensen would be okay with and what might bother him. Jensen had given Misha no indication of what made him uncomfortable, but Misha figured they would make out fine so long as he introduced the new items slowly.

After a quick breakfast and forcing himself to unpack a few more moving boxes, Misha set out on his excursion.

The first store Misha went to was a nearby toy shop. As soon as he steped inside, Misha was bombarded by floor to ceiling shelves stocked with every sort of toy he could imagine. No wonder the store had been rated so highly. Misha just stood and stared for a moment. Perhaps he should have waited until Jensen could come with him; he had no idea what his boy would want. Misha had a suspicion though that Jensen would balk at buying too many baby items, especially if Misha tried to pay for them. No, it was better just to do his best and learn what Jensen liked through trial and error.

Stealing himself against the combined din of children playing and noise-making toys, Misha started down the first aisle. It was mostly video games and movies. While Misha did want Jensen to have some children's movies, he wanted to find out if his boy had any old favorites first.

Misha moved on. In the next aisle, he was confronted by stuffed toys of every size, shape, and colour. Misha groaned. He was not leaving this store without a stuffed animal for Jensen, but he had figured one would leap out at him as being perfect for his boy. A light would shine down from the ceiling or something. Instead, Misha felt completely uninspired. Did he know his little boy at all?

Misha was about to leave the animals behind for a bit and return once he had seen the rest of the store, when something caught his eye. It was a little bee, adorably plump and sinfully soft. He couldn't be sure that it was the perfect choice, but he knew Jensen would like it. With a smile on his face for the first time since he entered the store, Misha moved onto the next aisle, bee in hand.

From there, Misha's shopping went easier. He picked up a couple more colouring books, some paints, and another set of Legos. The latter gave Misha pause, but he knew Jensen liked Legos. Hopefully Misha could get his boy past whatever Jensen's hang-up with them was. It would be a shame if he was never able to play with them again. Any other toys would have to wait until Misha found out what sort of age Jensen wanted to play at. They could always come back to this store together. On a final whim, Misha grabbed a toy car set from the shelf and made his way up to the front cash.

Misha visited a few other stores, picking up some bottles, sippy cups, and diapering supplies. He also made sure to get some plastic cutlery and bibs. Clothing would have to be ordered online, and Misha decided as he headed home with his purchases, that he would get Jensen's input that weekend.

Misha spent the evening in pleased anticipation of the coming day. Once he had gathered everything he would need, Misha relaxed down on his couch. He turned on the TV, but his thoughts were focused entirely on Jensen. Misha thought back to how their relationship all began, and for the first time in days Misha thought about his account on carersandlittles.

Misha grabbed his laptop, intending to delete his account from the site. Neither he nor Jensen had brought up being exclusive, but Misha knew he didn't want another baby boy. Jensen was everything he needed. When Misha signed on though, he was surprised to see he had a message. He thought about not bothering to read it, but curiosity got the better of him.

Hi Daddy,
I didn't want to bug you on your free day, but I just wanted to say I'm really really excited for our weekend. I can't wait to see you.
Bye!
From Jensen

Misha realized belatedly that a grin was plastered on his face.

"Hi Sweetheart," Misha wrote back. "How did I luck out and wind up with the sweetest boy ever? I can't wait to see you too, Jensen. It's late now though. Go to bed, and I'll see you first thing in the morning."

Yah, Misha wouldn't be deleting his account anytime soon. He removed "single" from his profile though. Sure, he and Jensen weren't in a relationship, but in Misha's mind he was taken.

Misha finished updating his profile, then he took his own advice and got ready for bed. If Jensen was even half as excited as he sounded, Misha would need plenty of energy to keep up with his boy the next day.

....................................

Jensen was sitting on the front step waiting, when Misha arrived Saturday morning. "Daddy!" he said, and he ran into Misha's arms. Misha dropped his bags in favour of embracing his boy.

After burrowing into Misha as far as he could and coming to the decision that Misha's sweater would have to go - too scratchy, terrible for cuddles - Jensen pulled back and eyed the bags strewn around them.

"For me?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Misha laughed. "Who else?"

Jensen helped Misha carry the bags inside. When he tried to sneak a peak though, he was disappointed; Misha knew right away what he was up to and stole the bags back from him. "Not yet, Imp," Misha said. "First we need to get you ready for the day, then you can see what I brought."

"But I'm dressed and I brushed my teeth and everything."

"Do those look like good clothes for little boys?"

Jensen looked down at his jeans and polo and shrugged. Maybe not, but he didn't have any kid's clothes.

"Come on. We can find you something comfier at least," Misha said, seeming to read Jensen's mind. Jensen allowed Misha to take his hand and followed his daddy upstairs to his bedroom.

There wasn't much "comfy" clothing to choose from, but in the end, Misha helped Jensen dress in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Before they left the bathroom, Misha looked at Jensen. "Do you need to use the potty, Jense?"

Even though the comment sent warm delight racing through him, Jensen squirmed from the awkwardness of it. "No, Daddy."

The two men went back downstairs to look through the things Misha had brought. Jensen looked at the bags suspiciously; he was fairly certain there had been more. He hadn't even seen his daddy hide them though. The man was a ninja.

"Can I look now?" Jensen asked once they were settled in the sitting room, surrounded by bags.

"Go for it," Misha smiled.

Jensen reached eagerly into the first bag, and pulled out some books. Not just any books, he realized. Kid's books. They ranged from slightly longer chapter books, like the first book of the Magic Treehouse series, to short picture books. Jensen took the time to look through each one. Then, with the books placed reverently in his lap, Jensen looked up at his daddy. "Will you read them to me?"

Misha grinned. "Of course."

Jensen was in awe. Presents and getting read to. It was already the best weekend ever, and Misha had only been there for under an hour.

Misha leaned over and gently took the books from Jensen's lap. "They're not going anywhere. It'll just be easier for you to look at the rest of the bags."

Jensen shrugged, trying for nonchalance. He doubted that he achieved it though. Yes, the books were just paper, but they already felt like friends. Instead of letting their absence bother him, Jensen reached into the next bag. Play Doh, colouring books, and paints. He looked at his daddy, amazed.

"You didn't have to get all this stuff."

"I wanted to," Misha said.

"If you were worried about stuff to do this weekend, I could have picked up some things."

Misha frowned. "First, you were working yesterday. Second, I wanted to get things for my boy. I love seeing you smile. Besides, you deserve some toys."

"Well thank you," Jensen said, worried he had offended the other man. "This stuff is amazing. It means so much."

He pulled the other bag towards him. This one was heavier than the others, and corners of a cardboard box were starting to peak through the plastic. Jensen pulled the bag off and inspected the box with delight. Hot Wheels. Freaking awesome.

"Can we play with them right now?" Jensen asked.

Misha laughed and reached over to ruffle his hair. "We sure can."

Sitting on the floor of the sitting room, Jensen and his daddy played with his new toys. The morning slipped by unnoticed. Jensen refused to leave his cars until Daddy insisted on lunch. After they had both eaten, Jensen ran back to the sitting room. He felt Misha's bemused look following him. "Come on Daddy, Play Doh time," Jensen called. Misha just laughed and followed behind his boy.

....................................................

Misha looked up in confusion at the sound of a phone. He thought he had turned his off. Jensen leaped up from his spot on the floor though and ran towards the noise. Ahh.

When Jensen came back he was holding the still ringing phone. "Sorry," he said. "I have to take this."

Misha smiled and nodded his agreement. He picked up the newspaper from a nearby table and flipped idly through the pages. "Hello," he heard Jensen say as the other man left the room.

Jensen was gone for awhile, long enough that Misha had finished the comics and most of the front section of the paper. For all that time Misha couldn't hear Jensen, so he had to assume the phone call wasn't finished. Whatever it was about, Jensen seemed to want privacy.

All of a sudden, Misha heard a raised voice: Jensen. The words were indistinguishable, but the tone was obvious. Jensen was pissed. Misha shifted uncomfortably. He was caught between concern for Jensen and a strong desire to not intrude where he wasn't welcome.

A few minutes later, the yelling came to an abrupt end. It was another ten minutes before Jensen reappeared, and during that time Misha battled with himself over whether or not to track the man down. As he was about to get up though, Misha heard heavy footsteps coming back towards the sitting room.

When the footsteps stopped, Misha looked up from his paper. "Hey Jense," he said cautiously, unsure of what state of mind Jensen would be in.

"Hi," Jensen said. "Sorry about taking that. My phone's off now though for the rest of the weekend."

"No worries. Keep it on if you need. I won't be offended."

Jensen shook his head and got back down on the floor. He didn't resume playing though. The smile that Jensen wore all day was gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and tight lips. His forehead was lined, and his eyes were unreadable. It was time for a daddy intervention.

"I need a break from playing," Misha said. "How about a bottle and some snuggles?" It was getting late anyway.

"No thanks," Jensen said, not turning to look at Misha.

"No to the bottle or to the snuggles?"

Jensen shrugged. "Don't need a bottle."

"A special cup then?"

Jensen shook his head. "Just a glass."

Misha frowned. This was unexpected. He wondered if his boy's sudden change in attitude was related to the phone call Jensen had taken, but there was no point in dwelling on that now. "You will be using a sippy cup buddy unless you want a bottle. I don't want any spills."

"I won't spill."

"This isn't negotiable," Misha said. "You can safeword out if you want to, but I'm not budging on this."

Jensen was silent for a moment, and Misha got the sinking feeling that he had pushed Jensen too far after all. Finally, the boy looked up at him though.

"Cuddles then, please."

Misha nodded, but before he took Jensen up to the bedroom, he filled a sippy cup with juice to bring with them. Hopefully if Jensen got thirsty he wouldn't be too stubborn to drink from it.

When they got upstairs, Misha followed Jensen's lead and climbed onto his bed. He sat up and let Jensen curl into him. Misha rubbed circles onto Jensen's back, hoping to bring his little boy back from wherever he had gone. After awhile though, when Jensen remained subdued, it became obvious that he wasn't going to get any less tense.

"What about a story?" Misha said. He forced a smile when Jensen looked up at him. The little boy nodded, and Misha reached over to the bedside table, where he had the forethought to leave the books he brought.

It took two stories before Jensen seemed to relax. Eventually though, Misha felt the shoulders ease up and his little boy sink into him a bit deeper. Jensen still wasn't smiling, but it was certainly an improvement. Not long after that, Misha heard the deep breathing of sleep coming from the boy next to him. Finally, he thought with a sigh. Something was obviously distressing Jensen, but their relationship was so new. It was impossible to know how Jensen would take Misha prying into his personal life.

Misha looked over at the clock. 9pm. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the foresight to have Jensen brush his teeth and put on pyjamas before they cuddled. Jensen looked so relaxed though, that Misha figured one night wouldn't hurt.

Misha eased himself up off the bed. Then, after making sure Jensen hadn't woken up, he pulled a blanket over his sleeping boy and planted a kiss on his forehead. Misha turned off the lights and slipped quietly from the room. It was still early, but he was tired too. They hadn't talked about whether or not Misha would sleep over this weekend, and Misha regretted that now. He figured Jensen would have no problem with him using the guest bed though. In fact, Jensen would surely prefer that to waking up to an unexpectedly empty house.

With that decision made, Misha got himself ready for bed. He slipped under the delightfully cosy covers and turned out the beside lamp. Despite the unfortunate end to the day, Misha would count the experience an overall success. With visions of what tomorrow would bring filling his head, Misha drifted into a pleasant sleep.

...........................................................

Jensen woke up with a start. Just a dream. Just a dream. And yah, he knew that, but the images just wouldn't leave him alone.

Jensen hugged his knees to his chest, wishing desperately that Misha was there. But Misha had probably gone home after Jensen fell asleep. Fair enough. Thinking about Misha only made Jensen's loneliness and fear more obvious. He felt the tears begin to gather at the corners of his eyes. For awhile he resisted, but finally, when the ache in his chest wouldn't ease up, Jensen gave into the need to cry. He was alone in the house; there was no need to be quiet. Jensen let the huge sobs overtake him as he clung desperately to himself, unaware of anything except the sadness that was so overwhelming, he felt it as a physical ache.

The next thing Jensen knew, his mattress was dipping to the side, and warm hands were pulling at him gently. "Jensen baby, whats wrong?" Jensen would recognize Misha's voice anywhere, and he released his grip on himself and launched into his daddy's arms.

It was when Jensen moved that he made the horrible discovery. Between his legs, his pull-up was heavy, squishy, and wet. OhGodOhGodOhGod. Jensen recoiled from Misha. He tried to scramble away, but he was caught up in blankets and his daddy's arms.

"Jensen. Jensen." Jensen realized Misha had been calling his name for awhile. He looked up to meet blue eyes that were filled with confusion and concern.

"Hey buddy," Misha said. "Just breathe with me. In and out."

I am fucking breathing, Jensen wanted to shout. What came out of his mouth though was, "Sorry. So Sorry. I'm fine now. I swear. I'm good." He was babbling.

"Hey, hey. You're fine. Everything is ok, but I need you to breathe. With me."

Jensen finally gave in, and tried his best to match Misha's rising and falling chest. By the time Misha seemed satisfied with his breathing, Jensen was worn out. He sat slumped against Misha, and finally he allowed his head to loll back onto his daddy's shoulder.

Misha said little other than regular soft reminders that Jensen was fine and everything was alright. He just continued to run comforting fingers through Jensen's hair.

Finally though, Misha said softly, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Nope. Jensen felt the warm body resting comfortably behind him though, and he could picture Misha's gaze, the worry that must be on his face. "I had a bad dream," he said finally.

"Oh, poor sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it?"

Jensen shook his head, and he was relieved when Misha didn't push him.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?"

Jensen was about to agree when he remembered his wet pull-up. As soon as his attention was drawn to it, the soggy wetness and the unbearable shame was all Jensen could feel. No way could he sleep without changing it. Unfortunately, his pull-ups were still in the office. There would be no way to get a new one without Misha becoming suspicious. Jensen thought about hiding the dirty one in the bathroom and sleeping without, but Misha would surely find out the next day when he helped Jensen change his clothes.

"Jensen?" Misha's voice brought him back.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?" Misha asked.

Jensen took a deep breath. "Promise you won't be mad?" he said softly.

"I promise."

Jensen put his face in his hands, unable to look at his daddy. Misha would be so disgusted by him. Using the pull-ups was not something they had discussed. Hopefully Misha wouldn't feel obligated to deal with it. The man was just too nice to say "no" sometimes.

"I wet my pull-up I haven't wet the bed in ages but I had a bad dream and I did and I'm so sorry please don't leave I'll take care of it," Jensen said in a rush.

Misha didn't respond for a moment, having to sort through the jumbled words.

After a painful silence, Jensen felt hands gently pulling his own away from his face. He looked at Misha through the blurriness of tears. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Don't be," Misha said firmly. Jensen flinched, and when Misha spoke again, his voice was softer. "You never have to be sorry over an accident baby. That's why you are wearing a pull-up, because sometimes little ones have accidents."

Jensen nodded silently.

"Do you really believe me?" Misha asked, "or are you just nodding so I'll leave you alone."

Jensen blushed. Caught.

Misha sighed. "I promise. You have nothing to be ashamed of or sorry about. You know, my last little boy wore diapers 24/7. That was fine though. Whatever you need, I am more than happy to do."

"Okay," Jensen said quietly.

"Really?" Misha asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yah." Jensen realized he did believe Misha. He trusted his daddy, so if Misha claimed not to be disgusted by him, then Jensen would accept the comfort.

"Now," said Misha. "No more tears. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed again."

Jensen let Misha dry his face with a tissue and then followed his daddy into the master bathroom.

"Are you okay with me helping you?" Misha asked.

Jensen thought about it, then nodded.

"Use your words, please."

"Yes. It's fine."

Misha smiled. "Thank you." He reached over and pulled down Jensen's pants. Jensen blushed and heard himself moan when his yellowed pull-up was revealed.

"None of that," Misha said. Then, more tenderly than Jensen had ever been touched before, Misha removed the sagging garment. He wet a washcloth and, moving slowly so Jensen had time to reconsider his consent, Misha began to clean around Jensen's privates. Jensen's breath quickened, but he felt no need to tell Misha to stop. The moment was overwhelmingly intimate, but there was no one more perfect to share it with. When Misha was finished, Jensen watched half in relief and half in disappointment as his daddy stood and left to get a clean pull-up. Misha returned with the bag and helped Jensen to step into a fresh pair.

While Jensen had been wearing pull-ups awhile, putting this one on felt better than even the first time he had tried them. There was something about the clean, dry, softness encasing him after he just finished being cold and wet. Between that and the gentle way that Misha helped him back into his pants and into bed, Jensen felt barely present.

Jensen allowed a sleepy smile as Misha tucked him into bed. "I'm glad you stayed," he said with a yawn.

Misha chuckled and bopped his boy on the nose. "My pleasure baby."

"I had a great day. I'm sorry for everything tonight."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Jensen. Nightmares happen to all of us, and accidents happen to little boys. I'm glad I was here for both. Now try to get some sleep. If you need me I'm just in the spare bedroom."

Jensen smiled. "Goodnight Daddy."

"Goodnight baby."

Misha leaned down to plant a kiss on Jensen's forehead, and Jensen knew what bliss was.

Chapter Text

Misha sat in his trailer, waiting to be called to film his next scene. As usual, his mind had drifted to Jensen, his little boy. Sunday, Jensen had been quieter than the day before, less playful. Who could blame him though. Jensen had gotten hardly any sleep after his nightmare. Despite his boy being tired and a bit withdrawn, Misha still had a wonderful weekend. Apparently, so had Jensen; as Misha was walking out the door Sunday evening, he shyly tugged on Misha's sleeve and asked if they could do it again sometime. Misha was on cloud nine.

Any worry Misha had about Jensen's state of mind after the weekend was washed away when the man waltzed into work Monday morning. He had circles under his eyes, but Jensen flashed his biggest smile at Misha, a cocky grin at Jared, and waved 'hello' to everyone else. After that, Misha was willing to let the question of how well Jensen was sleeping go. That decision had nothing to do with Jensen's smile though. It certainly didn't make Misha want to seek out a chair for the sake of his trembling knees.

Misha realized that he was grinning at the memory. But that had nothing to do with Jensen either. With that thought, Misha gave up and allowed his mouth to split into a smile. Cloud goddamn nine.

..........................................................

Jensen took a quick drink of water between takes. Unfortunately, he couldn't splash any on his face to help himself wake up. Wardrobe would kill him. Jensen could have used it though. Filming got tiring anyway, but it was much worse when he had act off-camera as well. Act as though he had energy, as though he had gotten more than six hours of sleep that weekend.

"Jensen."

Jensen made his way back over to the set. One thing that helped, was that it was impossible not to feel energetic when Jared was around. Jim had described Jared as a puppy once, and it was a perfect analogy.

Despite Jared, they made it through the scenes faster than expected, and it was soon time for Misha to join them.

"I'll grab him," Jensen said. He needed a break from the lights, the people, and the noise.

The director gave Jensen a nod. "We need time to set up anyway. We won't need either of you for fifteen."

Jensen was about to look for Misha when he heard a familiar sound. Shit. He had forgotten to turn off his cellphone. Thank god it hadn't gone off during filming. Jensen ran over to his bag, planning to turn off his phone. He immediately changed his mind when he saw the name on the phone's display.

"Jared," Jensen called. "Can you grab Misha for me. I gotta take this."

"Yah, sure."

"Thanks man," Jensen said, as he walked off to answer his phone.

........................................................

Misha had been retrieved by Jared and was ready to start filming by the time Jensen got back. When the other man walked in, Misha couldn't help but eye him with concern. Jensen's mouth was drawn tightly and his face was pale; it made his eyes look even more hallow. Without his usual smile, Jensen looked positively exhausted. No. He looked distressed.

The director noticed too. "Jensen," he said. "Back to make-up before we start."

Jensen nodded and went to get touched up. When he returned, he looked much improved. Colour in his cheeks didn't make his smile look less fake though. Thankfully, this was a scene with angsty-Dean, so maybe Jensen was just getting in the right frame of mind.

A new recurring actor was brought out, and Misha turned his attention to making the acquaintance of "Adam Milligan". Misha's part would be small for this episode, but he found he was increasingly enjoying work and didn't mind coming in. Unrelated to Jensen. Yupp.

When Misha's part was done, he sat back and watched in amusement as Dean and Sam met their half-brother for the first time. Poor Dean, Misha laughed to himself. Jensen was nailing it though. Jared and the new guy had to take some time out for laughing, but Jensen was even more stone-faced than normal.

They were drawing to the end, and Misha figured he might as well stick around for the final Sam and Dean scene that would finish the episode. Maybe Jensen and Jared would want to grab a bite after.

"You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much." Jensen said. "You two were practically the same person. I mean, I worshiped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I -"

Jared laughed. Need the script there, bud?

Misha was looking only at Jensen though. The actor's face was completely expressionless, but something about Jensen's eyes put Misha on edge. There was strong emotion there.

And then, Jensen turned and ran.

"Wha-" Jared started to say.

The director sighed. "Jared, this had better not be a joke."

Jared shrugged. "Not one that I'm in on." He started to follow Jensen.

Misha was on his feet in a flash though. "I'll go get him," Misha said. Without waiting for a response, he ran after Jensen, not caring if he looked ridiculous.

Jared looked at the director and shrugged. He got an eye-roll in response.

......................................

Jensen looked up at the sound of brisk footsteps. God, he couldn't believe that he ran. What the hell. He had been faking calm all day. Why panic now? Well, he knew why, but Jensen couldn't think about that now, not if he wanted to make it through the work day.

"Misha," Jensen said in surprise as the other man rounded the corner.

Misha sat on the floor beside Jensen and shot him a look of concern. "Jensen, what happened?"

Jensen shrugged. Just got a bit nauseous all of a sudden. Didn't want to spew on set."

Misha frowned. "You looked like you were in agony."

"Guess I need to work on my sick face before we film any sick-Dean scenes."

"Look," Misha said. "I know something's wrong. I figured it was your business and I would leave you to handle it, but you aren't Jensen."

"I'm fine," Jensen muttered. God, why did Misha care so much?

Apparently, he had spoken aloud, because Misha took his head in hands and said, "I care because I like you Jensen."

"You're not on Daddy time," Jensen whispered, worried someone might hear.

"No, but I care about you. Both little you and big you. You're incredible Jense. I never want to see you hurting."

Jensen was stunned. Finally though, he managed, "I care about you too."

Before he could second guess himself, Jensen leaned past Misha's hands, until their lips met. It took only a moment before Misha responded and was kissing him back. Misha let his hands run up the sides of Jensen's face to his hair, where they entangled themselves frantically. Too soon though, Misha was pulling away. Jensen groaned.

"I said I would bring you back to the set, not make you more late."

"Lame excuse," Jensen grumbled, but he smiled.

"Oh," Misha said before he let Jensen make his way back to the set. "Don't think you can distract me that easily. I am the epitome of persistence."

Jensen laughed. "Sure Mish."

Misha stopped walking though and pulled Jensen to a halt with him. Bright blue eyes met Jensen's and held his gaze. "I'm serious," Misha said. "Whatever is bothering you, it's affecting your life now. I'm assuming that was what your nightmare was about on Saturday, you clearly aren't sleeping, and now it's impacting your work. You will tell me, whether it's as your Daddy, your friend, or more..." Misha let his sentence drift off, and he blushed.

Jensen leaned forward and kissed him quickly and softly on the lips. When Jensen pulled away, Misha was smiling, and if his cheeks were red, it was for an entirely different reason.

"I will," Jensen promised. "I'll tell you all about it."

"Tonight," Misha said.

Jensen looked like he was going to argue, but eventually he nodded. "Tonight," he said.

Chapter Text

That evening, Jensen found himself sitting on Misha's couch amidst unpacked boxes. Misha was sipping on tea, but Jensen had opted for a beer; he needed all the help relaxing that he could get. So far, his friend had not made any attempt to force Jensen to talk, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed to leave tonight before Misha got answers. The knowledge that all would soon be revealed left Jensen feeling unsettled. There was a fluttering in his chest and a need to pace that wouldn't go away. The desire to let himself be little and snuggle up to his daddy was almost overwhelming, but Jensen had already decided that he had to talk to Misha about this as an adult.

"So," Misha said, when their conversation again trailed off and uncomfortable silence had descended.

Jensen sighed. Here we go.

Misha didn't continue speaking though, so finally Jensen met his eyes. "Yah," Jensen said lamely.

"Do you want to talk about what happened today? Actually, let me rephrase that," Misha said when he saw the look on Jensen's face. "We are going to talk about what happened today. Do you want to talk about it now or later?"

Jensen shrugged. "Might as well get it over with." He stood to get a sweater, but then remembered all his things were still in his car, out in Misha's driveway. It would be less humiliating if he didn't have to lug his things out the door if Misha decided he didn't want to continue their relationship once he heard what Jensen had to say.

Jensen sat back down and rubbed warmth into his bare arms, ignoring Misha's curious look.

"Where would you like me to start?" Jensen asked.

"Wherever you think best."

Jensen thought for a moment. "It might as well be at the beginning I guess."

"Once upon a time-"

"Stow it, Misha," Jensen said, but he felt a smile tug at his lips.

"Back in high school is, I suppose, where this all started. I had always been close with my family, but around then things got rocky. I'd blame it all on my sister, but-"

"You have a sister?" Misha asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yah," Jensen said slowly. "I guess I never told you about my family. Mom, dad, sister, brother. Pretty standard."

"Right, not important at all."

"No more interruptions," Jensen said. He waited until Misha made a zipped-lips motion, and then Jensen continued with his story.

"Anyway, I shouldn't have brought my sister into this. It wasn't really her fault, except that she and dad argued pretty often. I was the kid he always got along best with, at least until part way through high school. It's nicer to think that he used up his limited patience with my sister, so if my brother or I did even a small thing wrong it was an explosion. Like I said, not the full truth, but nicer to think that than to think that I was a disappointment."

Misha looked like he was about to cut in, but Jensen shushed him. "You want to hear this or not?"

Misha held up his hands.

"When it all started, was when I had to take a drama class in high school. It was the only thing that fit into my schedule for extracurriculars and, you know, I couldn't have two gym classes. Believe me, I argued the shit out of that. So, I ended up taking this drama class. And it was the best class I have ever taken. After only two sessions I had decided I wanted to be an actor. You should have been there for the family dinner when I told Dad that. He flipped. Wanted me to go to university, get a kin degree, and become a physiotherapist. That was always the plan. I guess he got it in his head because I was good at sports, shit at math, and it would make me a living."

Jensen paused to take a swig of his second beer. He looked at Misha, expecting some sort of interruption, but the other man said nothing.

"After that, Dad went to the school and tried to get me switched into a different class, but no over available courses fit my schedule. So I stayed in drama, and Dad and I tried to limit our conversations to our favourite sports teams and the weather."

"That worked for a little while, but then I auditioned for the school play. I couldn't help myself; I knew this was what I wanted to do. In the end, I got the lead. I wasn't going to say anything, but my shit of a brother brought it up at dinner that night. I honestly still don't know if he was trying to be a dick or was just making conversation. Hard to know with him. Anyway, the fireworks over that statement would have made the fourth of July jealous. I swear to God, Dad turned purple. He was yelling, I was yelling, my mom was trying to yell over both of us. Finally, Dad and I both stalked off. We didn't talk to each other for a week. In the end, mom convinced Dad to ease up on me if I agreed to apply to a couple of universities for physio. I did, but I knew I wasn't going to pursue it even if I got accepted. So that was that."

Jensen smiled at Misha, who looked like he had been dying to say something for awhile. "Go for it."

"No, keep going. I want to hear all of it first."

Jensen laughed, because Misha's expressive face said otherwise. He took another sip of his beer though, and continued.

"Well, things went on like that for awhile. As long as I didn't bring up the play or acting we were cool... well chilly actually, but not at each other's throats at least. Then I met Brayden though-"

"Brayden?" Misha said with a smirk.

"My first boyfriend, you ass. Up until then, everyone assumed I was straight, and I was more than happy to let them think that. I went to a small enough school that everyone's name was familiar, even if I didn't exactly know them. Brayden was cool though. Dopey, awkward kid, just like everyone else at 16."

Jensen smiled at Misha. "Apparently my tastes haven't changed." He dodged the slipper that came pelting towards his head and continued to talk.

"Brayden eventually convinced me to come out to my parents. He did with his, and everything was cool. I was there with him to support him. He offered to do the same for me, but I figured it would be a shit show, and I didn't want to expose him to that. In the end, I guess I did it partly because it was so important to him, but mostly it was because I couldn't stomach the thought of coming home every Christmas from college and having to make up some story about dating a girl or just enjoying the single life. I'd try not to talk the whole holiday, just in case I slipped up and mentioned "Jim" instead of "Jeanine". Or something."

Jensen paused. Telling his story had been getting progressively easier the more he talked, but now he was approaching the final act. When he looked up from his beer, Jensen saw Misha ready with a smile for him. He offered a half-hearted smile of his own. Just get on with it.

"I can sum up that night by saying Dad almost disowned me. Mom talked him out of it. I guess at least. All I really know is I was packing when she came into my room and upended my suitcase onto the floor. She said that she had taken care of my father and that I was staying. I think me being gay hurt her too, but Mom was a big one for family. I'm pretty sure I could be accused of 1st degree murder and she'd stand by me."

Misha reached for Jensen's hand, and Jensen allowed him to take it.

"We actually lived in relative peace after that. I made plans to move to LA after graduation to pursue my acting career, while I pretended to consider offers from different colleges. I almost got through the year by avoiding Dad as much as possible, but then I slipped up. And I mean, I messed up good."

"And that's where all this comes in," Jensen said, gesturing broadly. "You know... age play or whatever."

"Ahh," Misha said, beginning to see where the story was headed.

"Yah. Listen, why don't we take a break. My throat's getting dry, and I'm out of beer."

Misha nodded in agreement, and the two men walked over to the kitchen.

....................................................

Soon they were settled in again, Jensen with another beer, and Misha with wine this time. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew how age-play was going to come into Jensen's story. God, he hoped he was wrong though, because how would he ever get Jensen over that?

"You were saying," Misha prompted, when Jensen was quiet for too long.

"Right. Well, like I said, Mom and I were good. Dad and I were good as long as we each pretended the other didn't exist, and Dad and my sister were as explosive as ever. I can always count on that as a source of stability in my life," Jensen said wryly. "Well, I had finally graduated. Got good marks, and Mom even convinced Dad to show up to my graduation. I just had to get through the summer. Then I was going to move to LA, and everything would be good. If Dad never wanted to see me again, he wouldn't have to."

Jensen's voice had taken on a bitter edge, and Misha reached over to take his friend's hand again. Misha was tempted to tell Jensen he could stop. Obviously, these memories hurt to bring up, but Misha refrained. This was important. Of that, Misha was sure.

"After graduation was also when Brayden and I broke up. It was mutual. We were going to opposite ends of the country. There wasn't really much point. I was cool with it, but it still hurt. First relationship, teenager, sappy, you know. Point being, I didn't really have many people in my life then. A lot of my friends were away for the summer or already heading to whatever town they were going to school in. My brother was off working in another state, and my sister wasn't around much. I guess I'll just say it... I needed comfort, and I was using this," Jensen gestured vaguely again, "to give me some."

"You mean infantilism," Misha clarified.

Jensen blushed. "Yah."

"Go on," Misha said gently.

"It's something I had been into way before that, but I guess I was doing it more often. I had let it go for a bit when I was going out with Brayden because there was no way I was letting him find out about it. Besides, I was really happy then, so I figured I didn't need it. Well, after months of not indulging, when I finally did, it was such a release. I started wearing my diapers and playing whenever I could. Mom and Dad had regular schedules, so it was easy to keep track of when I could safely break out my stuff and when I couldn't. I'm guessing you see where this is going."

Misha nodded and squeezed Jensen's hand. His boy's voice had taken on a dry, emotionless tone, but Jensen had to clear his throat a few times while speaking. I'm such a dick, Misha thought to himself. They had come so far already though...

"Will you tell me anyway?" Misha asked.

"I was playing one day, when I fell asleep on the floor of my bedroom in the sun. Of course that was the day that Dad got home from work early. My bedroom door was open, so when he walked upstairs, he was treated to the sight of his son surrounded by Legos, with a pacifier in his mouth, and a wet diaper covering his ass."

Jensen groaned. "Kill me now. No one did it then, so just do it now."

"Baby," Misha said sadly.

Jensen pushed away his attempt at a hug. "I really just want to get this out."

"Sure, Jense," Misha said. He sat back on the couch and watched as Jensen, red face hidden in his hands, continued to talk.

"Well, there was lots of yelling. I was so stunned, then mortified, then ashamed, and eventually angry, that I don't remember most of what either of us said. He used the word 'freak' several times. Said he only had one son now. Said he knew from the start I would be a disappointment. I'm pretty sure I called him an over-bearing, narrow-minded douchebag. Or something. It's hard to be articulate when you're standing in only a diaper and a t-shirt. He gave me enough time to get changed, so that his neighbours wouldn't know what a degenerate he had for a son. Then, he dragged me out of the house and locked the front door. A few minutes later he threw my book bag out of my bedroom window, and that was it. I haven't seen him since."

"But what did you do?"

"My wallet was in my backpack, so I had that at least. I knew I was planning to go to LA anyway, so I hopped the first bus out of town and made my way there. I took my time, saw some sights, met some cool people. Wasn't a half bad trip actually. Mom tried to call me that first evening. She was trying to convince me to come back, and she sounded so sad that I almost did. Then I heard my father yelling in the background, asking her what she was doing. She whispered that she was sorry and she had to go, but she would call me later."

"Did she?"

"Yah, but I didn't take the calls. What was the point? She was just going to apologize, maybe try to get me to come back even though Dad clearly still didn't want me. It was better just to cut the ties. Anyway, I stayed with some people I met on my way down to LA until I could afford a place of my own. Then you pretty much know the rest. I never tried age play again until I decided to make that profile you found. I don't even really know what made me do it, but there you go. Fate maybe."

When it became clear that Jensen wasn't going to say anything else, Misha let out the breath he had been unknowingly holding. "Jensen, I'm so sorry."

Jensen shrugged. "It's just a bit of family drama. I had a good childhood, and I've had a good life since. It's just a few years in between that sucked. I don't have any excuse to mope as much as I have been."

Misha shook his head. "That's not family drama, Jense. Baby, your parents are supposed to be there for you. To support you. To have that support system your whole life, and then have it ripped away... that would be incredibly hard for anyone."

Jensen felt himself shrinking inwards. Misha's words made him feel young so that all he wanted to do was curl into his daddy for comfort. Anytime he thought about the past though, Jensen couldn't get over the shame and disgust it made him feel for himself. He needed to be an adult right now. He needed to see himself as strong and independent.

Misha noticed the change in Jensen's posture. His eyes were focused far away, and his face was full of turmoil. This was again, a time for Misha to take charge. He leaned forward and pulled Jensen so that the man's back was braced against his chest.

"Just relax," Misha soothed when Jensen struggled to sit up. "This doesn't mean anything. It's just supposed to be relaxing. It doesn't make you any less of an adult."

Misha felt Jensen's body gradually sink into him. Slowly, so as not to startle his boy, Misha reached up and began to work his fingers through Jensen's soft hair. After awhile, Misha heard Jensen's breathing deepen. His own eyelids were starting to droop as he was lulled by the other man's steady breaths. It was definitely time for bed.

"Jense baby," Misha said as he shook Jensen's shoulder gently. "Wake up. Time for bed."

"Don't wanna," Jensen mumbled.

Misha suppressed a laugh. "Too bad. You can sleep when you get up to bed."

Jensen stood groggily and started to make his way down the hall towards Misha's room.

"Hey, hold up," Misha called. "What about your stuff?"

"Oh right," Jensen blushed. Suddenly he felt wide awake. "It's in the car."

"Why didn't you bring it in before?"

Jensen looked at his feet. "In case you didn't want me to be your boy after I told you about all that stuff. I could make a quick getaway."

Misha barely stopped himself from running to his baby. He didn't even try to prevent himself from hugging Jensen tightly. "What would make you think that? Never, ever think that."

Jensen spoke into Misha's hair. "Thought you might feel like I was too much trouble. It'd be too much work to age-play with me."

"Never. First, none of that was your fault. Second, it is understandable for you to be upset about it and to need time to get comfortable with being a baby again. The third point is most important." Misha waited until Jensen met his gaze. "I will gladly spend as much time as it takes convincing you that the first two points are true."

"Thank you," Jensen whispered.

"Thank you for trusting me."

They stood silently for a moment. Then, Jensen yawned, causing Misha to laugh. "Okay buddy, let's get your stuff so you can go to bed."

Jensen ran out to grab his bag, and Misha waited for him in the bedroom. It was hard in that moment to judge Jensen's state of mind. Misha was willing to bet that Jensen felt little, but was fighting it. He highly doubted that Jensen would be staying over if he felt comfortable enough to go home by himself. Normally, Misha would just take control and coax his baby into being little. This situation felt different though, and Misha worried that if he pushed too hard Jensen would walk out his door for good.

Jensen got back from the car then, and Misha was out of time to think. Tonight he would have to play it safe and leave things up to Jensen.

Misha watched as Jensen pulled out some sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. "Want some help?" he offered neutrally.

"Yes please." Jensen handed Misha his pants, and he stepped into them as Misha held them open. Misha felt a surge of warmth when he saw that Jensen was wearing a pull-up despite their evening. Maybe Jensen just hadn't brought any boxers with him, but whatever the reason, Misha would take it as a good sign.

Misha made sure that Jensen used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, but otherwise he kept the daddy-ing to a minimum. It was a fine line between making Jensen feel safe and supported without pushing so hard that the boy withdrew completely.

Once Misha had tucked Jensen in and turned out the lights, he got into bed himself. Both men were silent, but Misha knew from the lack of soft snoring that Jensen was still awake.

"I still have one question Jensen. If you don't mind at least."

Jensen shrugged in the darkness. "Go for it."

"I understand why the age-play is overwhelming sometimes, but what happened at work?"

"It's those scenes where Dean's all upset over John. Reminds me of my Dad sometimes. You know, idolized him, never lived up to his expectations," Jensen trailed off, trying to sound casual. He didn't. "Especially if I get too into the scene. It's easy for it to feel personal."

"Sure," Misha said. "You've done lots of those scenes before though. Dean's issues with John are a regular thing. Why did it bother you so much this time?"

The silence that followed was long, and Misha began to wish that he had never asked.

"I forgot to mention," Jensen said finally. "My father called."

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Misha asked, sitting up in bed.

"My dad called-"

"Yah, I got that. Jensen, why didn't you say anything?"

Jensen sat up too, and in the darkness Misha saw his eyebrow raise.

"Ok, not my business, fair enough," Misha said. He tried to smile, but even in the dim light, it was obviously fake. "What did he want?"

Jensen hesitated, and Misha laughed mirthlessly. "Right. Also not my business."

"No, it's fine," Jensen said quickly. "I just don't like thinking about him. If I was going to tell anyone it would be you."

Jensen was quiet again, lost in thought.

"Why don't we go to bed? You can tell me about it in the morning," Misha offered.

Jensen nodded and lay back in bed. Misha followed suit, and he was thrilled to feel Jensen's head worm its way onto his chest. Next thing Misha knew, his hand was being lifted and was placed on Jensen's head. Misha laughed and began to stroke Jensen's hair. "Subtle, you're not baby." Jensen said nothing, and Misha rubbed the soft hair until with the soothing motion, he put himself to sleep.

.................................

Once Misha's hand had stopped moving for a sufficient length of time, Jensen disentangled himself from his daddy's arms and sat up in bed. It was going to be a long night. There was no way Jensen would risk falling asleep in Misha's bed and waking his daddy up if Jensen had a nightmare or... well, he wasn't going to dwell on that. Jensen was already exhausted though. Really, he should have gone home to sleep in his own bed, but being alone, especially when the alternative was to be with his daddy wasn't even an option.

Jensen wracked his mind for something to do to pass the time. It was still fairly early. The soonest Jensen figured he could justify getting up would be 5AM, and that was if he lied through his teeth and pretended to be a morning person. Yah, right. In the end, Jensen settled for running lines in his head. He made it through the scenes for tomorrow, and then started on the ones for the following day. Once he had finished those, Jensen started running through his lies from the beginning of the season going forward until the present. Then he did it all again. And it was still not close to goddam morning.

Jensen sighed, and Misha groaned in his sleep. The other man didn't wake up though, and Jensen sighed more quietly, this time in relief.

The night continued, passing slower than any other time in Jensen's life. When he and his father had fought, the moments were raw emotion, with anger and disappointment so hot and all-consuming that Jensen couldn't think. Those times were awful, but they passed quickly. By the time Jensen was conscious of himself again, the fights were over. All that was left was cleaning up his own emotional turmoil and patching the ruined relationship as effectively as possible. Now though, Jensen was aware of every second. He was present for every painfully dull, exhausting moment. Jensen counted by 7's. He got to 6006, then he went backwards by 13's. Jensen told himself the stories of A Clockwork Orange and 1984. They were full of holes; he hadn't read them since high school.

Light was finally starting to peak through Misha's curtains. Thank God. Jensen's ass was sore, his back was cramping, and he couldn't take another moment of listening to his own inner monologue. Checking the time on his watch, Jensen smiled. 4:36. He could work with that.

Jensen slowly pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed. He padded quietly across Misha's carpeted floor and finally reached the bedroom door. Grasping the doorknob, Jensen turned it quietly and pushed.

"Jensen?"

Jensen jumped at the sound of Misha's groggy voice. "Yah?" he asked, trying not to sound guilty. And why should he feel guilty anyway? He was an adult, and he could get out of bed whenever he wanted.

"What are you doing?"

Jensen fumbled for an explanation. You couldn't sleep. Didn't want to wake him up. "Bathroom," he mumbled instead.

"Just use the en suite."

Idiot.

"Oh right," Jensen said. He turned and walked away from the bedroom door, from his chance to kill the rest of the night by watching TV, surfing the net, or reading one of Misha's books.

Jensen hesitated at the door to the bathroom, but in the end, he pushed it open in defeat.

"Are you okay?" Misha asked. "Do you need to be changed?"

Jensen shuddered at the awkward question. "I'm fine," he said.

"Okay Dean," Jensen thought he heard Misha mutter, but he chose not to acknowledge the comment.

"We're talking about whatever's bothering you in the morning."

How did Misha always know when something was wrong?

"Add it to the list," Jensen grumbled under his breath.

...................................................

Misha woke up and stretched, recoiling when his fist smacked something soft.

"Ow."

Misha looked up to see Jensen rubbing his nose. "Sorry baby," Misha said, sitting up and hugging his boy. From his tone of voice, it seemed like Jensen was feeling little today. Not great since he had to work later.

"Why were you sitting up anyway?"

Jensen blushed. "Couldn't get back to sleep."

"That's funny, because you look tired." Misha looked at the other man critically. The circles under Jensen's eyes seemed to have darkened over night, and his eyelids drooped in a failing attempt to stay awake. "Are you going to be able to work today?"

"Ya-" Jensen's answer was cut off by a yawn.

Misha resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Right.

"We have a couple of hours until you have to go. Why don't you let Daddy take care of you this morning? You can have a bath, then maybe catch a quick snooze."

Jensen nodded. When he made no effort to move though, Misha got up from bed and went to run the bath water.

"Coffee?" Jensen asked hopefully when Misha returned.

"Not until you get a bit more sleep."

Jensen sighed, but he allowed Misha to help him out of bed and lead him to the bathroom. There, Misha helped his boy undress. He praised Jensen for still having a dry pull-up, and Jensen blushed beautifully in response. Unable to resist, Misha asked if his baby needed the potty. Jensen just shook his head. Misha thought about telling Jensen to try, but in the end, getting Jensen relaxed and ready for a nap was the most important thing. A fight would be counter productive. Instead, Misha helped Jensen into the bath. Misha's little boy sighed as he sat down and the water rose up around him.

"Don't fall asleep in there buddy."

"Mhm," Jensen managed. His eyes were already closed.

Misha chuckled and prepared a washcloth with body soap. He started with Jensen's arms, giving his boy ample to time to object before he got to the more delicate areas. After massaging soap into Jensen's limbs and chest then rinsing them off, Misha had Jensen lean forward so he could do his back.

When he had finished every other area, Misha hesitated. "Jense-"

"It's fine," Jensen said, not opening his eyes.

Jensen tensed as Misha began to wash his sensitive areas, but he didn't argue or tell his daddy to stop. It helped that Misha was gentle, but matter-of-fact in his efficiency. Once he was done, Misha shampooed Jensen's hair. He couldn't resist doing a little scalp massage to work the soap in, and his baby boy dissolved under his touch.

When it was time for Jensen to get out, Misha shook his shoulder gently. "Jensen? Baby?"

Jensen muttered something incoherent.

"Time to get out."

"Nuh."

"The water is getting cold."

"D'matter."

Misha reached down and pulled the plug. At the sound of the draining water, Jensen opened one eye and glared resentfully. It didn't help when Misha laughed.

"That's quite the look. Come on, you'll feel better when we get you back in bed. You need real sleep." Misha helped Jensen out of the tub and wrapped the boy in a large towel. "Toilet, then pjs, then bed." He used his daddy voice.

Jensen didn't object. His eyes were closed the entire time Misha helped him into a pull-up and what passed for pyjamas with Jensen. Jensen still hadn't peed, but he was falling asleep where he stood. Instead of pressing the issue, Misha led the boy to bed. Jensen was wearing a pull-up after all. Tugging the blankets up around Jensen's neck, Misha smiled as he planted a kiss on his baby's forehead. Jensen was already snoring softly.

...................................................

Jensen stood in his kitchen. No, his parents' kitchen. Somehow he knew he was wearing a diaper. Only a diaper. One with teddy bears and clouds on it. And there was something else... a pacifier in his mouth.

 Nothing about this was bad, but Jensen had a sense of foreboding. Something was going to go very wrong.

 Jensen didn't investigate though. There were toys on the floor around him now, and he crouched down to play. Legs splayed, diaper visible, sucking on the pacifier. Something still felt off, but it didn't occur to Jensen to figure out what.

 The scene shifted again, and there was Misha. The other man hadn't entered the room. He was simply present. Present and scowling.

 "Jesus Christ. What is this?"

 Jensen looked up in confusion. "You said to-"

 "To what?" Misha growled.

 "To play. You said it was ok."

 Misha's voice became soft and mocking. It was so much worse. "I told you to pway? God, you're disgusting, Jensen. You know what a joke is right? I never expected you to believe me. What kind of grown man thinks it's okay to act like this? No wonder your father got rid of you. And now look, the baby is pissing himself."

 Jensen looked down, and Misha was right. His diaper was yellowing, growing warm and wet around him. Jensen couldn't stop though, and he just kept peeing as it overflowed and pooled on the floor around him.

 Misha laughed. It was a terrible sound. "Wash the piss off my floor then leave-"

 Misha dissolved into Jensen's father. "-I never want to see you here again. Make up a reason to tell your mother. She shouldn't have to know what a disgrace her son is."

 Jared raised his eyebrows, his lips drawing back in a snarl. "What the hell man? That's disgusting."

 Jensen's mother shook her head. "I tried my best to let you stay. Why couldn't you be normal."

 Misha laughed.

 ................................................

 Jensen bolted upright in bed. He was drenched in sweat and his heart was racing. Just a dream. A really fucked up dream. Jensen plucked at the t-shirt that was plastered to his chest and waved the fabric to let fresh air enter beneath it. He looked down, still panting hard. And then Jensen realized, it was not just sweat that he was soaked with. That, and Misha was gone.

Chapter Text

Before that week, the last time Jensen had woken up to a wet bed was when he was eight years old. Stress, exhaustion, and the stupid pull-ups, he decided. That wasn't important at the moment though. Be calm. Think. Jensen felt the sheets around him. At least Misha's bed wasn't wet. Just the pull-ups.

More than anything, Jensen just wanted to put on a dry pair of boxers and pretend the last twelve hours never happened. Unfortunately, he only brought pull-ups to Misha's. At least Jensen knew what to do though. He got out of bed, cringing at the feel of the squishy fabric between his legs. It was still warm, so he must have just wet it. Jensen went to his bag and began digging through his clothing. No pull-ups. The package wasn't in the bathroom either. Or beside the bed. What had Misha done with it?

"Jensen?"

Jensen jumped and wheeled around.

"Jesus Misha, that's twice in one day. I'm going to get you a bell."

Misha didn't laugh though. He was frowning, and suddenly Jensen remembered what he was wearing.

"Shit. I can expl-"

"Language, Jensen," Misha cut in. "And it's Daddy."

Jensen turned pale as he remembered angry Misha from his dream. Echoes of the harsh words and cold laughter resonated in his mind. "I-"

Misha's look became concerned. He walked over to Jensen and put a hand to his forehead. Without meaning to, Jensen jerked back. Misha was watching him like he was a cornered animal, and Jensen felt terrible for putting his daddy through that. He won't do that. Mish- Daddy- would never do that. Just a dream. Jensen watched as Misha slowly reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. When the boy didn't flinch away, Misha took Jensen's other shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug.

"What happened, baby?" Misha asked as he led Jensen over to sit on the bed.

Jensen looked away. "Had a bad dream. Wet the pull-up. You were gone..." He shrugged.

"Oh Jense," Misha hugged him tightly again. "I'm so sorry you went through that alone. I thought you would sleep for awhile, so I went to start some breakfast."

Jensen nodded. That was perfectly reasonable. Somehow he still felt abandoned though. Ridiculous.

"I promise I would never leave you while you were sleeping like that."

Jensen nodded again. "Sorry," he said.

"For what?" Misha sounded genuinely confused.

"For this," he gestured to his wet pull-up. "I really don't know what that's about. I promise it doesn't usually happen. Really. And for freaking out."

Misha sighed and lifted his eyes skyward. It was just short of an eye-roll. When he saw Jensen watching him though, Misha instantly turned contrite. "Don't worry. It was a fond sigh." He smiled. "Look baby, and you are my baby right now, accidents happen, especially with nightmares. I believe you that it doesn't usually happen, but it's okay if it does. It's alright that you were afraid. I was gone and you're in a strange place. Besides, that's a big thing to deal with alone. What's not okay is trying to hide it from me. Do you understand?"

"Yah," Jensen agreed.

"Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really."

Misha looked at his boy appraisingly, but he continued on. "I think the bigger issue is that you fight letting me take care of you."

"I do not," Jensen objected.

"Let me rephrase that. You fight yourself on giving into your desire to be taken care of. And I understand why," Misha said, cutting of Jensen's protests with a raised hand. "I don't expect you to be comfortable with everything right away. When you feel little though, I want you to try to just let yourself be a child. Let go of the adult responses. I know there are a million things going on in your head, but only one of those things matters: Little Jensen. Leave your big problems for a later date, because there is nothing that little-you can do about them."

Jensen was silent after Misha's speech. Then, he wrapped his arms around Misha's neck and pulled the man close. It was time to let go. Jensen lifted his head and whispered in Misha's ear. "I had an accident, Daddy. Please help?"

Misha's breath hitched, and Jensen fought the urge to laugh. He had shocked Misha Collins.

"Let's go get you cleaned up then, little man."

Jensen let Misha pull him up from the bed. Before he followed into the bathroom though, he gave into the urge to hug his daddy tightly. Accidents happened. It wasn't his fault. Daddy would fix it. As Misha returned his embrace, Jensen found he believed it all.

........................................................

Misha sat on the couch, watching his boy eat breakfast. God little Jensen was beautiful. The green eyes were so trusting, and his lips formed a perfect pout. Misha sighed. He was such a hypocrite. After giving Jensen such a hard time for resisting the desire to being little, Misha was going to ask him to be big again.

"Jensen?"

Misha's boy looked up at him. "Yah?"

"I feel awful asking this, but I think it's important that we talk before you go to work."

Jensen's face fell; he knew what was coming. Misha felt like a complete ass.

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay." Jensen shook his head and sat up straighter, as if pulling himself out of a dream. "You want to know why Dad called."

"Among other things."

Jensen shrugged. "I got a call from my brother last weekend when you were over. He said Dad needs money. I guess he lost a lot in investments, and his business is having trouble in the current economy. Phil, my brother, was calling about a loan."

"What did you say?" Misha tried to keep his expression neutral. It was a losing battle. Of all the reasons to call...

"I told him that if Dad wants money he can call me himself."

"And he did."

"Yah, yesterday on set. I honestly didn't think he wouldn't. He must be desperate."

It really wasn't his business. Curiosity, cats. But whatever, Misha wanted answers. "Are you going to give him any?"

Jensen squirmed, and Misha realized he had unintentionally switched over to daddy mode. He relaxed his posture and lightened his gaze. After that, Jensen seemed to come back to himself.

"I don't know," Jensen said. "He's my family, so I guess. It won't be a loan though." Misha frowned, and Jensen hurried to answer his unspoken question. "I want to hear as little from him as possible. A loan requires collecting. I'll give him the money on the condition that I never have to speak with him again."

"If you think that will be the best for you."

"I do," Jensen said.

He crossed his legs and was suddenly aware of the need to pee. Jensen thought longingly back to how gentle Misha had been when he helped Jensen change that morning. It was so tempting to have "an accident" and experience that tenderness once again. Misha would never buy it though. On the other hand, Jensen doubted Misha would care if he wet on purpose, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for that. Besides, it would soon be time to go for work. It would be best to stay big for the rest of the day.

Jensen paused before standing up. There was certainly more he could say to try to clarify the situation for Misha, but how do you explain a lifetime of memories to someone who wasn't there? How could he explain that even worse than the memories of his father kicking him out was remembering the times when they had been close, when his father had been his hero. Misha knew enough for now. Everything else could wait.

Jensen stood and wobbled tiredly.

"Maybe you should call in sick," Misha said. "You look even worse than yesterday."

"Gee, thanks Misha."

Misha smiled, but it didn't make him look less concerned. "You know what I mean."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I don't think there's too much we can shoot today. The director has somewhere to be in the afternoon, so I think it'll be an early one."

"Fine," Misha said. He stood up so he was facing Jensen. "But I'm going with you."

Jensen groaned. Misha's face was the picture of stubborn determination. Yes, Misha would be coming with him alright.

............................................

Jared frowned as he watched Jensen walk through the doors. His costar was early. What the actual fuck?

A couple of minutes later Jared had an even bigger surprise when Misha Collins walked through the door. "Hey Misha," he called. The other man walked over to join him. "I thought you weren't working today."

"I'm not," Misha said vaguely. "Just didn't have much to do, so I figured I would come watch."

Jared laughed. "Jensen and I need to get you out more then."

Before Misha could respond, a voice called to Jared from the set.

"I'll let you go," Misha said. Jared watched as Collins walked away, dangling something from his hand.

Why would Misha have Jensen's keys? Jared grinned suddenly. Only one reason came to mind.

Chapter Text

Misha tried not to doze as he watched the show being filmed. It wasn't that Jared, Jensen, and the other actors weren't entertaining to watch, but after the fifth take, the scenes started to lose their appeal. By the tenth Misha was ready to rip his eyeballs out. No wonder the camera crew and director got a bit pissy when Jared and Jensen started screwing with each other. Misha wanted to tackle Jared himself when the actor zoned out partway through an almost perfect take.

Misha had no intentions of leaving though. He was there to make sure Jensen was okay, and that there were no repeats of the other day. Besides, Jensen wasn't used to flipping between being little and big. Misha wouldn't be surprised if Jense had some trouble getting the morning events off his mind.

A few hours into the workday, Misha heard a ring coming from beside him. It was Jensen's phone. Jensen zoned in on the location of the sound, ready to run over and take the call. The last thing Jensen needed right now was another call from his family. Misha checked. The number was long distance, but wasn't recognized by Jensen's phone. Would he even keep his family's numbers though if he had no intention of ever contacting them again?

Before Jensen could leave the set, Misha picked up the phone. He made eye contact with his friend and pointed to himself, then the phone, then raised his hands in a question. Misha for "want me to take a message?" Misha read uncertainty in Jensen and began to put the phone down. A look passed over the other man's face though, and Jensen nodded his permission. He turned back to Jared and the cameras, and Misha was left to deal with the rogue phone call.

Misha stood and walked away from the others, so his voice wouldn't get caught on film. "Hello?" he answered.

"Jensen?" The voice was a deeper version of Jensen's. Rough and husky. Maybe Jensen would get there if he smoked a pack a day for the next twenty years.

"No, his friend, Misha. He can't come to the phone, but I can get him to give you a call."

There was a long hesitation on the other line. Then finally, "I'll call back."

With that, the call was ended, and Misha was left staring at the cellphone in his hand. He headed back to his previous seat. Immediately, Jensen caught his eye. Misha shrugged, and Jensen nodded. Everything that needed to be said was in those two gestures.

While Jensen seemed a bit distracted the rest of the day, he was in much better shape than the day before. Misha had turned off the demon phone, despite being fairly certain that Jensen would want it left on. If Jensen's father wasn't going to talk to Misha, then he wouldn't be speaking to anyone until Jensen was good and ready. At least, that's what Misha had decided.

When the work day was finally over, Jared and Jensen joined Misha at the side. They chatted for a bit, but before long they all were ready to go home.

"Need a ride, Misha?" Jared asked.

"Actually Jensen already offered, but thanks," Misha responded quickly.

For his part, Jensen caught on promptly and didn't say anything to the contrary.

Jared smiled. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy the drive guys."

"Right, nothing like grid lock traffic to make for a good time." Jensen said sourly. He hated when the day ended right at rush hour.

Jared's smile widened. "I'm sure you'll find a way to pass the time." He walked away then, with a "later" and a wave over his shoulder.

Misha was willing to chalk the comment up to Jared being friendly, but Jensen knew better. You didn't get to be friends with Jared for over three years without growing accustomed to his faces, especially the ones that meant he was up to something. The faster you caught onto those, the better. Still, Misha heard nothing from Jensen on the subject, and the two men headed out to the parking lot in silence.

................................................

"So who called?" Jensen had waited fifteen minutes into their drive before asking. He didn't want to seem too interested in the call, but in truth it had been the only thing on his mind all day.

"Your father? Maybe? He didn't say."

"Sounded like Vin Diesel?"

Misha laughed. "Yah, not far off."

"That'd be him. Did he say anything?"

"No," Misha said. "Just that he would call back."

Jensen could feel the other man's eyes on him, watching for his reaction. He stayed as neutral as possible. What was one more call from his father anyway. And this would be the last.

"He say when?"

"No, just that he would. Then he hung up."

Jensen laughed once, but there was no humour in it. "Sounds about right." He pulled into Misha's driveway then, grateful for an excuse to change the conversation.

Misha opened the passenger side door and made sure he had all of his things. The silence that had been comfortable before, was suddenly awkward, anticipatory. Finally, Misha cleared his throat. "Are you coming in?"

"I don't know," Jensen answered honestly. "Am I?"

Misha smiled, suppressing his nervousness. He had rarely been anxious around Jensen outside of their first few work days together. Why now? "I hope so," he said.

Jensen grinned and turned his car off. The two men walked into Misha's flat and settled in on the couch. Jensen had placed his cell and keys on the coffee table, and now the phone sat looking at him. It was like a freaking time bomb.

Finally, Misha cleared his throat, and Jensen looked up from the table gratefully. "So what do you want to do tonight? Do you want little time or do you want to go out somewhere? A date, I mean."

Jensen watched in amusement as Misha's face grew red. He never thought he would see the day that Misha Collins was embarrassed by anything.

"That would be amazing. I would love to go out with you." Jensen chuckled warmly when Misha visibly relaxed. Then it was his turn to be embarrassed. "Um, I think I need some little time though. Is that okay? I mean, are you up for that? It's a lot on you."

Misha opened his arms with a smile. "C'mere little boy. I love our little time. And, I'm very proud of you."

Jensen looked up from where he was wrapped in Misha's arms. Why would Misha-Daddy- be proud?

"Because you needed something, and you told me. That's what I always want you to do, Jense."

Jensen smiled, glowing at Misha's praise. He snuggled in deeper. Nothing felt better than being buried in the smell of Daddy and the warmth of his arms. Jensen was comfortable enough that he was jerked from the beginnings of sleep when Misha spoke again.

"I hate to ask, but it's going to come up. How do you want to deal if your father calls."

Jensen tensed, and he felt Misha's arms tighten around him. "I'll answer," he said finally.

"Do you want privacy?"

Jensen shook his head vehemently. There was no need to consider that one. "Stay, please."

"Sure baby," Misha said, and Jensen snuggled back in for sleep.

...................................................

Jensen was asleep, and thank God. The kid needed rest. Misha did his best not to move; instead, he lost himself in thought, staring at the phone on the table. Freaking thing. Occasionally, Misha would be certain he heard it start to vibrate or saw it light up. He was imagining things though. Jensen's father was going to drive him crazy too. Misha hadn't even known about Jensen's family for more than a day, and he was already looking forward to being done with them.

After a couple of hours, Misha figured it was time to wake Jensen so he wouldn't be unable to sleep that night. Besides, Misha's arms were going to sleep, and his back had long ago seized up.

"Hey buddy," he said, giving Jensen a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up."

Jensen opened one eye, looked at Misha, and rolled back over. Misha stifled a laugh. He was about to give Jensen another shake when it happened: the phone rang. Jensen bolted upright, and both men sat staring at the phone. It rang twice more before Jensen picked it up. The boy was trying to appear nonchalant, giving a shrug as he went to answer it, but Misha wasn't fooled. He wrapped an arm around Jensen's shoulders and pulled Jensen against him as the boy accepted the phone call.

"Hello," he said. Misha was proud to hear that Jensen's voice was steady. All he could make out from the other end of the conversation was low pitched mumbling.

"Yah, it's fine," Jensen said. Then he was quiet for awhile, listening to the caller speak.

Abruptly, Jensen stood, and Misha's arm rolled off his shoulders. He stalked down the hallway, and Misha could hear him pacing. Jensen was no longer calm as he said, "that wasn't part of the deal."

Jensen's voice grew quieter after that, and for awhile he stopped speaking all together. The final words on Jensen's end were audible even to Misha. "No way in hell," Jensen said. It had an air of finality that convinced Misha the phone call was finished. Jensen didn't reappear though, and eventually Misha decided it was time to go searching for his boy.

Finally, Misha found Jensen on the balcony outside his bedroom, staring out at the darkening sky.

"Jense?" Misha said cautiously.

Jensen didn't look up or speak, but he leaned against Misha heavily when the older man drew close.

The sun had nearly finished setting before Jensen finally spoke. "He wants me to come home. No wait. Let me rephrase that. He has decided that me going back for a visit is the best of his shitty options."

Misha didn't have to ask who Jensen was talking about. He had only witnessed one person having this effect on his boy. In terms of the visit, well, what was there to say? Misha settled for staying neutral. "What happened to giving him the money and being done with it?"

Jensen sighed. "We were both game for that. I guess Dad didn't tell mom about borrowing money from me. It makes sense; she never would've gone for that. Anyway, she saw that he had called me a couple of times and asked why. He told her it was to arrange for her to have her children home for a visit all at once. I guess my sister is heading there next week as well."

"Shit." Eloquent, Misha.

"Yah," Jensen agreed.

"What did you say?"

"Fuck no. But now that he told mom I'm coming home she'll be crushed it I don't. I never want to go back there though." Jensen put his head in his hands, fingers wrapped tightly in his hair.

Gently, Misha eased Jensen's hands out of his hair.

"I just can't decide right now."

"It's a lot to take in," Misha agreed. "You have some time anyway. The decision doesn't have to be made right now."

Jensen nodded, but he didn't look any less strained.

"Come on baby," Misha said finally. Still holding Jensen's hands, he led his boy back inside. Jensen followed wordlessly and allowed Misha to push him back down on the bed. Misha went to his closet and pulled out something he had ordered for Jensen. It came a couple of days earlier, but Misha had been waiting for the right time to use it. Right then may have been the worst possible time to pull it out, or the best. Misha wasn't certain, but he was going to try anyway.

Carefully, he unfolded the footed pyjamas and brought them over to the bed. Jensen watched curiously, but he didn't protest. It was the good sign Misha had been waiting for. He gently removed Jensen's shirt and pants. Then, he checked Jensen's pull-up for wetness, causing the boy to blush. Misha was decided. Jensen would be getting the full treatment tonight, unless he decided to safe-word out. Finding Jensen's pull-up still dry, Misha got his little boy dressed for bed and helped him sit up.

"Thank you," Jensen said, hugging Misha tightly, and Misha knew it was for the gentle treatment, the new clothes, and for just being there.

Despite it getting dark, it was still early. Misha also knew Jensen had no chance of sleeping so soon after his traumatic conversation with his father. "Want to watch a movie?"

Jensen smiled for the first time since his nap, and Misha knew it was the right choice. "I have Aladdin," he said, remembering that DeanABC123 had called it his favourite.

"Yah," Jensen said happily. Misha helped his boy up from the bed, admiring how cute he looked in his new pyjamas. Poor Jensen was going to get bombarded with footed sleepers now that Misha knew how cute they looked.

Misha sighed with relief and pleasure as Jensen bounded ahead of him out of the bedroom. The crisis may not have been completely averted, but at least it was delayed.

.............................................

Misha was a crafty bastard, Jensen would give him that. As he lay with his head in Misha's lap, while his Daddy stroked his hair, it was hard to be unhappy. Couple that with his favourite childhood movie and pyjamas that felt like they were made from clouds, and it was damn near impossible to mope.

Jensen had trouble forgetting about his father originally, but Daddy was right; there was no need to make a decision right now. Tomorrow he could deal with that. For now, Jensen was snuggled under a blanket next to Misha, barely resisting the urge to sing along with Robin Williams.

Part way through the movie, Jensen began to feel antsy. He realized as he squirmed for the third time that he had to pee. He was unreasonably comfortable however, and even though he could quote every line of the movie, he didn't want to miss anything. Then there was how caring Misha had been after he wet the bed. Following the drama of the evening, Jensen could really use some of that special tenderness. Not that Misha wasn't always caring, but those moments had been special somehow. Maybe it was because letting Misha change him felt like the ultimate display of trust. It was nice to be able to trust someone again. Jensen thought back to the other day when Misha had told him to just give in to being little. Wriggling his toes in the footed sleeper that Misha bought him and thinking of how Daddy had checked his pull-up earlier as though expecting it to be wet, Jensen came to a decision.

His mind drifted from the movie as he focused inwards on relaxing. It was harder than he remembered to deliberately pee his pants, and it was even worse since he was lying down, and next to Misha to boot. Not Misha though, Daddy. If Jensen was going to do this, he could not think about Misha Collins who he worked with and had kissed. Just focus Jensen.

Finally, as Jensen was about to give up and go to the bathroom, a small spurt leaked out into his pants. A little breath of surprise escaped him, and he made a show of concentrating on the movie when Misha looked down to check on him. As soon as Misha looked away, Jensen relaxed again and let the rest of the urine flow into his pull-up. As it puffed up around him, Jensen was caught unawares by the warmth and security that one action brought. It was stupid, but in that moment he felt completely safe, loved, and content.

Jensen changed his mind about telling Misha; he didn't want to move. He snuggled back into the couch, not realizing until then that his body had been tensed. All those years of not using pull-ups or diapers for their intended purpose. He had been missing the ultimate source of comfort, the thing that would really allow him to sink deeply into the moment and let go of his adult self.

Eventually the pull-up began to get cold and itchy. Misha must have felt his squirming, because next thing Jensen knew, his daddy was checking his pull-up. "Come on little boy," Misha said as he paused the movie.

Instantly, Jensen felt bad. He and Misha hadn't discussed daytime "accidents" that weren't accidents. Wetting the bed was different. It really wasn't fair to force Misha into caring for him.

"It's ok. I can clean up," Jensen said, trying to sound adult.

Misha made a strange sound, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "You had an accident baby. You know I'm happy to help you with that."

Jensen looked into Misha's blue eyes. It was the truth. He let Misha lead him by the hand into the bedroom. There, Misha cleaned him gently and helped him change into a clean pull-up. Jensen's daddy 'hmmed' over the baby powder and lotion for a bit, but eventually he decided not to bother. "You need to let me know if you have an accident buddy. You'll get a rash if we're not careful."

Jensen nodded, but he wasn't certain that he would. There was something comforting about having his pull-up checked. And besides, having the word "accident" come out of his daddy's mouth was embarrassing enough. No way was Jensen saying it.

They went back to finish the movie. By the time the end credits were rolling, Jensen was dozing on Misha's lap. He didn't protest as Misha led him to bed and climbed in next to him.

Misha didn't tell him to go to the bathroom before bed, but Jensen knew it didn't matter. He wouldn't be sleeping that night. No way was he going to wet in Misha's bed again.

..............................................

Misha blinked blearily. It was still dark outside his curtains, but the sky was taking on a hint of grey. Morning wasn't too far off. Misha rolled over to go back to sleep. To his side though, was a soft light. It illuminated the sitting form of Jensen.

"Jensen," Misha said, trying not to sound annoyed. "What are you doing up?"

Despite Misha's soft voice, Jensen jumped guilty. He looked up from his cellphone where he had been playing solitaire. Even in the dim light Misha could see how tired the boy looked.

"Just couldn't sleep," Jensen said innocently.

"Mhm. For how long?"

Jensen shrugged.

"Jensen."

"All night?" Jensen said, wincing as he spoke.

"You were practically a zombie when we came to bed. What happened?"

"Just not tired." Jensen's statement was punctuated by a yawn, and Misha shot him a look obvious enough that it could be seen by the light of his phone.

"I didn't want to wet your bed." Jensen admitted.

"That's why you have a pull-up on though."

"Yah, but what if it leaks? That would be awful."

Misha sat up and leaned against his headboard. It was way too early for this. "Well, if you're worried about that, I also have diapers for you-"

Misha barely finished his sentence before Jensen blanched and began frantically speaking. "No, no that's ok. Really." He saw his daddy's concerned look and added, "I don't think I can do those yet."

Misha felt bad, but he was also exhausted. "Well," he said. "You have two options. You can wear a diaper, or you can stay in your pull-up and accept that you might have a leak, but if you do we'll clean it up and it won't be a big deal. Either way, you're going to sleep now, little boy. And from now on when you come over you won't fight sleep or there will be serious consequences."

"Yes, Daddy," Jensen said. He stared at Misha wide-eyed.

"Good boy," Misha said, kissing Jensen's forehead. "Now lie down. It's still early enough to get a few hours of sleep in, and you need them."

Jensen lay back down. When Misha followed suit, he curled up against his Daddy's chest. Misha smiled at the warm body against him. With relief he heard Jensen's breaths start to deepen. He had expected more of a fight, but Jensen was clearly exhausted.

As Misha was starting to drift off himself, he heard a tired voice say, "Misha?" Misha was alert immediately to the change in Jensen's tone. It wasn't adult, but it was the sound of little Jensen trying to grow up for a moment.

"Yes?" he said.

"If I do decide to go, would you come with me? It doesn't have to be as my daddy. It could be as my boyfriend." Jensen rushed on to explain, not waiting for Misha's response. "I know we haven't even properly gone out yet, but I have no desire to date anyone else right now, and I hate the idea of you seeing other people..."

Misha didn't have to think about his answer. "I would love to go with you as your boyfriend, Jensen."

With that, Jensen's head was back on Misha's chest, and his breathing soon resumed a steady rhythm. In the faint morning light, Misha could make out the smile on Jensen's sleeping face. It perfectly matched his own.

Chapter Text

"How about a date tonight?" Jensen asked as he and Misha drove to work the next morning. It was time he made the past few days up to Misha. Besides, if Misha was going to deal with his family, Jensen needed to start wracking up points with the man in advance. Ruining a relationship 101. Take your boyfriend to meet your homophobic father.

"That would be great," Misha smiled. "Are you feeling up for it though?"

"A hundred percent." The last thing Jensen wanted was for Misha to think he always needed looking after, that they couldn't be partners, share responsibilities. He knew from past experience that successful relationships require give and take. Misha would wear out quickly if he had to constantly be Jensen's support.

"Let me take you out. Jared says you need to get a life in Vancouver. Something about you hanging around the set all the time. Hey, driving," Jensen said when Misha cuffed his ear.

Misha laughed. "Fine. You may show me all Vancouver has to offer."

"I may? Very generous of you."

Jensen pulled into the parking lot of the Supernatural set. Once he had found a spot for his car, Jensen and Misha went their separate ways. He stopped by his trailer, while Misha headed inside. Jensen figured it wouldn't be fair to Jared if he was on time too many days that week. The poor guy would have a conniption. Instead, Jensen waited until a couple of minutes past the hour, then made his entrance. It also meant he and Misha arrived separately. Jensen didn't have a way to explain their new relationship yet. The longer he had to figure that out the better.

.................................

Misha looked outside his window. Headlights announced a car's arrival, and yes, it was Jensen's. The man was on time to the minute. It was ridiculous, but Misha grinned with pleasure; timeliness from Jensen was a compliment if Misha had ever received one.

Misha grabbed his coat and tried to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He and Jensen had spent so much time together recently, and Misha was still nervous. They would get to dinner and he would have nothing to say; he would be boring; Jensen would realize he was out of Misha's league. "Oh shut up," Misha said to himself.

He reached Jensen's car and plastered a smile on his face. Jensen's answering grin filled Misha with warmth, banishing the butterflies from his chest. Yah, whatever it took, Misha would make sure this thing with Jensen worked.

"So, where are you taking me?" Misha asked, once he was settled in the front seat of Jensen's car.

"Well, there are some sights I want to show you in Stanley Park, but according to Jared that's a lame first date."

Misha looked at Jensen in surprise.

"I didn't mention it was you," Jensen assured him.

"Oh, right," Misha said. He wasn't expecting to feel so disappointed by Jensen's comment. It was understandable if Jensen wanted to make sure things worked out between them before telling his best friend.

"Does Jared always choose where you go on dates?" Misha teased, trying to reclaim his earlier excitement.

"Only the ones I really want to go well."

Oh. And there was the sappy, warm feeling again.

"Anyway," Jensen continued. "Instead we're going to one of my favorite places, and it's even Jared-approved."

"Well thank goodness for that," Misha laughed.

They chatted casually through the rest of the drive. Misha's butterflies didn't return once he was immersed in Jensen's presence; instead, every moment was blissful. His cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling, both with laughter at Jensen's expressive face and from the general pleasure Jensen's company provided.

The roads they turned down began to take on a dingy feel. It was a part of town to which Misha had never been. When Jensen parked, it was on the street, outside of a brick building with massive windows.

"L’Abattoir," Misha read.

"Stick to Russian, Dmitri," Jensen replied in an appalling Eastern European accent.

Jensen got out of the car and hurried around to Misha's side. Before Misha had finished unbuckling his seatbelt, Jensen had opened the car door for him.

Misha followed Jensen inside the restaurant. While the other man walked over to the hostess to request their reservation, Misha took in the building. The walls combined tile and wood in an unusual mixture, which managed to be pleasing. Floor to ceiling windows looked out on the street. While the outside of the building bordered on drab and the street it rested on was seedy, inside was exquisite in the soft candlelight.

"It used to be a jail," Jensen said at Misha's side. "Now it has a great wine list."

Jensen gestured elaborately. "After you."

Misha grinned and followed the hostess to a table. The building was incredible, both elegant and refined. Further, judging from the thick drink menu placed before them, Jensen was right about the wine selection. Misha could already see why Jensen liked the place.

"It's amazing," Misha said, still looking all around himself.

"The history is very cool too, but I'll save that for another time."

For a moment, Misha was at a loss for something to say. Normally when he spent time with Jensen it was either at work or during their "little time". He couldn't talk about anything to do with Baby Jensen in such a public place and turning the conversation to work so early into their evening seemed like admitting defeat. Jensen saved the moment though by asking Misha how the unpacking was going. He knew very well that Misha was still putting it off, but Jensen managed to get a few laughs out of his date, and soon Misha was at ease again.

The time flew as Jensen and Misha talked over a bottle of wine and eventually, food. Misha couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to Jensen. He could say anything and the other man never made him feel inane. Jensen had him laughing constantly. Also, Jensen was charming. Misha frequently found himself blushing, and Misha never blushed; that was Jensen's job.

Despite the wonderful conversation and delicious food, Misha couldn't help but wonder about Jensen. He had decided to put aside anything resembling a daddy role for the night, but his date's cheeriness seemed a bit forced. All day, Jensen's smiles hadn't quite reached his eyes. There was strain in his face. Whether it was from fatigue or something else though, Misha didn't know.

Eventually, there was a comfortable lull in the conversation, and Misha seized the moment to satisfy his concern. He leaned across the table towards Jensen. "Are you ok?" Misha asked.

Jensen smiled. It was another not-entirely-genuine grin. "Of course," he said.

"Because I hope you would tell me if something was wrong."

"I'm fine Daddy."

Jensen's face turned bright red. "I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean-"

Misha stared at him in concern. He hated the thought that Jensen might be suppressing a need to be little for his sake. But then, maybe the name had just slipped out. "It's fine," Misha said. "No really," he added when Jensen looked like he would apologize again.

"I meant for this to be a normal night out," Jensen said. "A real date for once, not another time for you to feel like you have to take care of me."

"What I really want is for you to just be yourself, Jense. Whatever you that happens to be at the time. I've had an amazing evening tonight, but I would miss Little Jensen if I never got to see him. I need both adult and little you."

Jensen nodded. Misha wasn't sure that he was convinced, but Jensen started their conversation in a new direction, and soon Misha was wracked with laughter again. It was enjoyable enough that by the time Jensen paid the bill, Misha had almost forgotten that he was still worried about the man. Jensen had an amazing talent for steering the conversation away from himself. Tricky bastard.

Jensen drove Misha home after they left the restaurant. When they reached Misha's flat, Jensen again held the car door open for him.

"I had an amazing time," Misha said once he stood in the cool night air, facing Jensen.

Jensen smiled. This time it was real. "So did I. Thanks for coming out with me."

"Do you want to come in?"

Jensen hesitated, but finally he shook his head. "If I come up I know you'll go full Daddy mode on me. I want this to end like a real date." With that, Jensen tilted his head down and kissed Misha deeply. Misha barely had time to register the kiss before Jensen had released him and was back in his car.

"Goodnight, Mish. I'll see you tomorrow." Jensen backed his car out onto the street, and before Misha could think of a convincing argument for him to stay, he was gone around the corner.

..................................................

Jensen groaned when he got inside his front door. He kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket on the floor. The night had been amazing. He couldn't believe how well he and Misha hit it off without work or the baby thing to fall back on. Despite how wonderful it had been though, the evening was also a strain. Jensen had to focus on Misha -he wanted to focus on Misha- but other thoughts kept intruding. Stress over his upcoming trip, and the resulting desire to have Misha put him in his pyjamas and cuddle him kept Jensen on edge all night. How hard was it to just be normal for one evening?

Jensen went up to his bedroom and stripped out of his pants and boxers. He sighed with relief when he pulled a pair of his disposable briefs up his legs. After wearing them regularly for so long, normal underwear felt wrong. He had needed the little bit of adultness that wearing boxers instead of a pull-up gave him though. Now, he wanted the comfort of padding between his thighs. The whole evening Jensen had been fighting to stay in his adult mindset. As soon as his pull-up was on, the fight became near impossible. He pouted as he dressed himself in sweat pants and a t-shirt. It felt wrong. He was tired and scared for what the trip home would bring, and now he was lonely too.

Jensen sniffed, fighting back the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. You're a grown-up, he thought to himself. You're an adult now. You're going to go back to your family. You're going to see you brother, sister, and mom, because that's what's important this trip. Your dad will be there, but you are a smart, successful grown-up now. It will not be the same as before.

Jensen felt himself deflate. It would be exactly the same as before. Each time he dealt with his father in the past he always thought he was older and could handle the man better than in childhood, than in junior high, than in freshman year. This time around wouldn't be any different. A small sob escaped him, which Jensen turned into a cough. "Just give him the goddam check and go," he said aloud to himself.

Jensen made his way downstairs to the couch, where he stretched out in front of the TV. Sometimes thinking was the opposite of helpful. He tried to lose himself in the comedic stylings of Jim Jeffries, but the need to pee kept him from really getting lost in it. Jensen had been ignoring the urge to go since he and Misha were served their appetizers. He had been enjoying Misha's company, and didn't want to leave the moment. After several hours though, his body's need was impossible to ignore.

Jensen thought about his pull-up. It had been so comforting when he wet it last time. What was the harm in a little comfort? He could still be an adult; he would just change right afterwards. Jensen relaxed and felt warm pee rush into his pull-up. The garment swelled around him just like he remembered. Jensen waited for the feeling of comfort and security, but it didn't come. He was still alone and still anxious, but now he was also wet. Wet and tired and he wanted Misha.

A familiar tightness built in Jensen's throat. He fiddled with his cell. Daddy was only a phone call away, and Jensen needed nothing more right now than Misha's uplifting presence. He found Misha in his address list and pressed "call". The phone rang only once though before Jensen snapped back to himself. "Shit," he said. It was half a sob. What the hell was he doing? Misha had invited him in, and he had said "no". It would be incredibly selfish to pull the guy out of bed now and ask him to come over because Jensen didn't feel like taking one pull-up off and putting on another. Three year-olds could do it for Christsake.

Jensen let his phone fall out of his hand onto the couch beside him. Miserably, he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around himself. He would change himself soon. First, he just needed a moment.

................................................

Misha stood up from his couch and stretched. It was definitely time for bed. Since Jensen dropped him off at home, he had sat silently, reflecting on the wonderful night. Even when things between Misha and his Ex were good, he could never remember having such a great time.

And speak of the devil, Misha thought, when his phone rang and Jensen's name showed up.

Misha started to pick his cell up, but by the time he accepted the call, it was no longer ringing. He shrugged. The call must have dropped. Jensen would phone him back.

Several minutes later Jensen still hadn't called, and Misha was beginning to debate whether he should phone Jensen instead. At that moment his phone rang though, and Misha scooped it up, afraid he would miss Jensen again.

"Hello," he said.

There was only silence and a bit of static from the other line.

"Hello? Jensen?"

Then, Misha heard it. It was muffled, but unmistakable. Jensen was crying. No, sobbing. The sound wrenched at Misha's heart.

"Jensen, Baby. What's wrong?"

Nothing came from Jensen's end of the call but more hysterical cries. Each sob sounded as though it was being ripped from Jensen's chest, like the little boy's world was crashing down around him. Then the cries were muffled by rustling and more static. A pocket call, Misha realized.

He hung up the phone and dialled a taxi company. They promised him a car in ten minutes. It wasn't soon enough, but it would have to do for Vancouver at night. Besides, it gave Misha time to gather some things. He ran to his room and threw Jensen's soft pyjamas into a bag. Next, he grabbed the stuffed toy and, after a moment's consideration, a baby bottle. Finally, Misha added his toothbrush and a set of clothes for the next day. Jensen would have to have him forcibly removed before Misha would leave Jensen alone again that night.

Misha's taxi finally arrived. Shortly after, although far too long a wait for Misha, the cab pulled up to Jensen's house. Misha handed the driver cash and, without waiting for his change, ran to Jensen's front door. He rang the doorbell. When Jensen didn't immediately answer, Misha began knocking. He rang the bell again, and finally he heard footsteps approaching from inside.

The door swung inwards, and Misha was greeted by Jensen's wet, red eyes and blotchy cheeks.

"Misha?" Jensen asked. It was obvious to Misha that he was trying to keep his voice steady. Even still, it quivered traitorously.

"What's wrong little man?"

Jensen peered around Misha to the outside. When he had made sure no one else was around, he launched himself at Misha and clung on. "Daddy, I'm wet. I'm wet and I was lonely and scared but you're here."

Jensen babbled on, but Misha barely heard him. He was entirely focused on the warm body in his arms. The chest that shook with sobs, and the legs that quivered, and the bum encased in squishy padding. It all added up to Misha's boy.

"Okay, it's okay," Misha finally soothed. "Let's deal with one problem at a time. Come upstairs with me and we'll get you cleaned up."

"Kay," Jensen agreed softly. He took hold of Misha's proffered hand and allowed the older man to lead him upstairs.

Misha sighed inwardly. The first thing would be to get Jensen sorted out for the evening. Once his little boy was calm and rested, well, then they could have the conversation Misha knew they needed to have. Maybe by then Misha would have figured out whether to spank Jensen for lying to him about being "fine" or to hold him tightly and never let go.

Chapter Text

Jensen stood still and allowed Misha to pull the wet disposable underwear down his legs. From his bag, Misha drew a box of wipes and a bottle of baby powder. Jensen blanched at the new items, but he said nothing. Misha was there, and that was more than Jensen had hoped for when he drove home alone.

Misha cleaned Jensen carefully, but he was also efficient. It was far less embarrassing than the little boy had expected. Jensen didn't even blush when Misha applied the baby powder. The smell was too engrossing, and his daddy's touch was so gentle. Being changed by Misha was nice before, but this time it was so intimate and comforting.

"There," Misha said, as he tugged a dry pull-up onto Jensen.

Jensen couldn't help pouting. In a perfect world the diaper change would have taken all night. He made due by putting his arms around Misha's neck and burying his face in the man's shoulder.

"Still feeling mopey, hm?" Misha asked as he ran a hand through Jensen's hair.

Jensen didn't dignify the question with an answer. Mopey my ass.

"Come on baby boy. I brought your pjs by. Let me put them on you, and then we can have a proper snuggle."

Jensen released Misha. The only thing better than hugging his daddy was being wrapped in those sinfully soft pyjamas. Pjs and Daddy cuddles? Jensen was game.

Jensen smiled for the first time since getting home when he saw Misha pull the pyjamas out of his bag. First a pull-up, then wipes and powder, now clothes. It reminded him of Hermione's bottomless purse in The Deathly Hallows.

When Misha turned back around Jensen was still smiling. "There's my boy."

He dressed Jensen, then led the boy over to bed. "I brought some books. Why don't you choose one and I'll be right back."

Jensen nodded, and he giggled when Misha drew the books out of his bag. Hearing real laughter from Jensen told Misha that he was on the right track. He raised an eyebrow at the boy, and Jensen just giggled harder.

"Are you laughing at Daddy?" Misha asked.

Jensen shook his head, but another snicker slipped out. His eyes widened comically as he watched Misha throw the books on the bed then stalk menacingly towards him. Before Jensen could get away, Misha had him lying on the bed, desperately trying to ward off Misha's tickles.

"This is what happens to little boys who laugh at their daddies," Misha said.

Jensen couldn't respond. It was all he could do to breathe as he laughed and squirmed under Misha's attack. Tears poured down his cheeks, and his face was bright red as he gasped for breath.

Finally, Misha let up. It took Jensen several minutes to stop laughing and to calm down enough that he could breathe normally. When he had recovered, Jensen looked up at his Daddy reverently. There was a man who could take him from miserable to joyful in a manner of moments. Misha Collins was incredible.

"Up you get," Misha said, taking Jensen by the hands and hauling him off the bed. "Choose a book, and I'll be right back."

Jensen watched curiously as Misha grabbed something out of his bag and disappeared into the hallway. Smiling to himself, Jensen sat on the bed to inspect the books Misha had brought. They were aimed at a variety of ages. Some were picture books, while others were chapter books for young readers. Misha didn't mess around. Most of the books were new to Jensen. He grabbed one with a picture of a boy riding a pterodactyl. Dinosaurs Before Dark. It looked way cooler than the touch-and-feel book, even if Jensen was jealous of the kid who got to meet a dinosaur.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Jensen climbed into bed with his choice.

Misha smiled as he entered the room. "Found one, did you?"

"Yupp," Jensen said. "Will you read it to me please?"

"Of course, baby."

Jensen pushed over so that Misha could climb onto the bed beside him. It was then that Jensen noticed what was in the man's hand: a baby bottle. He looked at Misha and shook his head emphatically.

"I'm not a baby. I can use a cup."

Misha sighed, and Jensen instantly felt bad. His daddy was just trying to help and Jensen was being difficult every step of the way. Sometimes he was just the worst.

"Hey," Misha said. He took Jensen's chin in his hand and tilted the boy's face up to meet his eyes. "It's okay. I'm not mad. Don't cry little boy."

Jensen frowned; he wasn't crying. Except then, a wet tear traced its way down his cheek. He scrubbed at his face, determined not to ruin the night yet again.

Misha hugged him tightly. "I know you're not a baby, buddy. But you know what?"

Jensen pulled his face out from where he had buried it in Misha's chest and shook his head.

Misha looked at him conspiratorially. "I have really missed spending time with my little boy. Being able to feed this to you would make me feel a lot better. I know you don't need a bottle, but would you use it for me?"

Jensen nodded. He would have done anything for Misha before today. After this evening, Jensen would do his best to give Misha the world. Apparently the older man knew that too. Daddy, you manipulative bastard.

Jensen used his palms to scrub the tears from his face. Then, he snuggled down into bed and rested his head on Misha's lap. Misha grabbed the bottle off the nightstand and teased the nipple against Jensen's lips. It took time, but eventually Jensen parted his lips and allowed his daddy to slip the bottle into his mouth.

The sensation was odd. Jensen had never tried sucking his thumb, either as a child or an adult. He had been weened off of bottles early, so he couldn't relate to needing the feel of something in his mouth. Unsure of what to do, Jensen looked up at his daddy, but Misha was busy opening the book.

Having the nipple in and just occupying his mouth was becoming uncomfortable, and Jensen squirmed. There was nothing else for it. He took a tentative suck, and some juice flowed into his mouth. At least it wasn't milk. After his initial success, Jensen tried sucking again, more forcefully. This time, he kept up a rhythm. And holy crap, it was actually relaxing. Who knew.

"I think you'll really like the Magic Treehouse books," Misha was saying. "I was too old for them by the time they came out, but I know my little cousins loved them."

Misha began to read, but Jensen only half listened as Jack and Annie found the treehouse. Between Misha's warm voice and the soothing bottle, Jensen was suddenly exhausted. His eyes were already closing when only a few hours ago he had been certain he wouldn't sleep a wink. Daddy was magic.

Jensen dimly registered the need to pee, but he ignored it. He was comfortable and warm, and his daddy was reading to him. Jensen couldn't remember the last time he had been read to. Without another thought, Jensen drifted off to sleep. He was wearing a pull-up after all, and if he accidentally used it, Daddy was there. Daddy would make it all better.

...........................................

Misha woke up slowly. There was a warm body against him, and he was wrapped in the blanket cocoon he inevitably made while asleep.

As he began to wake up, Misha remembered the previous night's events. Jensen had fallen asleep before the end of the first chapter. The bottle had still been hanging out of his mouth, although he had stopped sucking on it once he fell asleep. It was ridiculously cute. Hopefully Misha would be able to convince Jensen to use it again.

Misha looked over at his sleeping boy, and a tender smile lit up his face. How could one person bring him so much happiness? And it was no exaggeration to say that Misha couldn't remember feeling happier in his adult life than he was with Jensen.

The little boy squirmed in his sleep. Misha chuckled; it was adorable. One green eye opened, and met his face. Even scowling, Jensen was gorgeous. It was a good thing too, because Misha was beginning to realize that his boy was a monster in the mornings. Jensen watched Misha for a moment, and when he was sure he had the older man's attention, he deliberately closed his eye and burrowed further into the covers.

Message received.

Realizing he was on his own for awhile yet, Misha grabbed his phone from the bedside table and began reading the news online. He became engrossed enough in what he was doing that he didn't notice the hissing sound at first. Faint as it was though, Misha knew that sound well. Coupled with Jensen's slight squirm then complete stillness, the sound was a dead giveaway. Jensen was wetting his pull-up. When the deed was done, Jensen rolled over and promptly fell back asleep.

That answered one question at least. Misha was still dealing with his baby. Big Jensen had not made a reappearance over night.

As happy as Misha was to spend time with his little boy, he knew he needed to have a talk with Jensen about the other night. Maybe he could use Jensen being a child to his advantage though. Little Jensen was so much more forthcoming than his boyfriend was. Maybe Misha would get a straight answer about what was bothering Jensen for once.

Misha gave Jensen another hour, but finally he figured it was time to get the wet pull-up off.

"Hey baby boy," Misha said softly. He rubbed Jensen's shoulder, hoping to ease the little guy into wakefulness as gently as possible.

"Ngh."

Misha tried again. "We have to get you changed out of that wet pull-up."

Slowly Jensen's eyes opened, and he blushed. "Oh," he said. Jensen's eyes were glued to Misha, trying to judge his thoughts and mood.

"It's ok baby. Just don't want you to get a rash."

Jensen nodded and sat up. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily. Then, he leaned over and collapsed against Misha, arms wrapped around his daddy's torso.

Jensen didn't move again, and Misha chuckled. "You didn't get very far there."

Gently, Misha pried Jensen's arms off himself. He decided to take pity on the tired boy and brought a clean pull-up, the wipes, and the baby powder over to the bed. Pulling back the covers, Misha lay down a towel. It took some cajoling, but he managed to convince Jensen to slide over and lie on the towel. From there, it was an easy matter to tear the sides of Jensen's soaked pull-up and clean his boy.

"Ok, time to get up now," Misha said.

Jensen didn't move.

"I want to spend some time with my boy before we have to leave for the set."

That worked. Jensen opened his eyes and slowly got up from bed. He was still obviously tired, but he let Misha dress him in a new pull-up and lead him downstairs without complaint.

Over the course of breakfast, Jensen became more lively. By the time they were finished he was his usual cheerful self. His antics and expressions had Misha laughing and enjoying himself to the point where he almost forgot they needed to talk. Almost.

Misha looked at the clock. They had only an hour before they had to be at the set.

"Jensen, do you think we could chat for a bit?"

Jensen looked at Misha curiously, but he nodded.

Misha led them both over to the couch, where he sat down and coaxed Jensen into lying against him. By no means did he want to upset his boy again, but some things needed to be said.

"I want to talk about last night," Misha said. Jensen stiffened in his arms.

"You had me so worried baby. The worst thing though is knowing that if your phone didn't dial me accidentally, you would have spent the night upset, and I would have thought everything was fine."

Jensen pressed himself more firmly into Misha, and Misha rubbed soothing circles over his belly.

"I need to know that you'll tell me when something is wrong. You can't lie to Daddy."

"I didn't-"

"Yes," Misha said. "You did. You told me you were fine when you obviously weren't, and you also tried to convince me that you didn't need to be little."

Jensen quieted and looked down at his hands. "I just..."

"You just what," Misha prompted. He kept up the gentle touches to Jensen's tummy.

"I just wanted to be big for you. I wanna take care of you too."

Misha smiled. "You do baby. You make me feel happy and needed and loved when you're little, and you make me feel special and loved when you're big. Both are wonderful. When you're feeling little though, as much as possible, I want you to be little."

Jensen considered Misha's words for a moment. Then he nodded. "Kay."

"And Jensen," Misha said, holding onto his boy when Jensen struggled to get up. "Never, ever lie to me again."

Misha was pretty sure he heard Jensen gulp, and he relaxed his hold. Jensen scrambled up. Then, he leaned down and hugged Misha tightly.

"I love you Daddy."

Misha's heart melted.

"You too, little boy."

Chapter Text

It was the evening before Jensen was supposed to leave for Texas. He hadn't even thought about packing, preferring not to acknowledge the fact that he was going to see his family. Still, when Jared cornered him after work regarding their typical Friday night out, Jensen was easily talked into going. His flight was leaving early the next day, but Jensen was used to traveling. He could throw some clothes into a suitcase and be packed within fifteen minutes if necessary.

"So," Jared said, once they were seated at a table, beers in hand. "How was your date?"

Jensen coughed around the swig he had just taken from his glass. Belatedly, he remembered asking Jared for advice on where to take Misha.

"That good?" Jared laughed.

"Sorry," Jensen managed. "Went down the wrong way. But yah, it was great."

"Cool. So when do I meet the guy?"

"It was just one date."

"Yah, but you obviously like him. When do I get to pull the big brother 'hurt my friend and die' speech?"

Jensen groaned. "Never. And big brother my ass. You're younger than me."

Jared just shrugged and waited expectantly.

Finally, Jensen sighed. "Jared? What do you think about Misha?"

Jared leaned back in his chair and took another drink from his beer. "He seems cool. I haven't spent a huge amount of time with him outside of work though, so it's hard to say."

Jensen nodded and sought frantically for a new topic of conversation.

Jared was faster. "Why?" he asked.

"No reason."

Raising one eyebrow, Jared fixed Jensen with an unwavering stare. Jensen was the first to look away.

"The date I went on the other night was with Misha."

Jared laughed, and Jensen blushed deeply.

"That wasn't really the response I was looking for."

"Sorry," Jared smiled. "It's just that it's about freaking time you owned up to it. You two are as subtle as a train wreck on a boat."

Jensen grinned. Leave it to Jared.

"So you approve?"

"Would it matter if I didn't?"

Jensen considered his answer. In the past, he would have said 'yes', but back then he wasn't dating Misha Collins. "Not a bit," he smiled.

"If he keeps making you this happy, I'm good with it. We're coming up to the end of the filming season though. Does Misha know if Supernatural decided to keep Castiel in the story? I heard rumours, but when Misha signed on it was just for the one season."

Jensen's heart sank. How had he not considered that? What would Misha do if Supernatural didn't renew his contract? Would he be willing to stay in Vancouver with Jensen? It wasn't as though there was much work there for actors. Misha would be better off in California or somewhere similar. And how could he expect Misha to make career decisions for him when their relationship was so new? Then, Jensen was hit by another realization. Not only would he be losing his boyfriend; he would lose Daddy too.

"Jensen-" Jared's tone suggested he had already called Jensen a number of times.

"Yah," Jensen said.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure you two will work it out."

Jensen shrugged. "It's an obvious question to have. I guess I was just happy and didn't think."

"So are you getting food?" Jensen asked, needing to change the subject.

Jared eyed his friend critically, looking for signs of distress, but if they were there, Jensen hid it well. Deciding to allow Jensen's deflection, Jared grabbed a menu off an adjacent table and set about deciding what to eat.

It was later than Jensen had intended by the time he got home, especially since his flight would depart at 7am. Between the drive to the airport, customs, and security, it was going to make for an early morning.

When Jensen got back to his house, he killed another hour watching late-night TV until he decided he couldn't put off packing any longer. Resigning himself to the fact that in less than twelve hours he would be home, Jensen finally pulled a small suitcase from his closet. He packed light and filled the suitcase mostly with casual clothes. A single dress shirt would cover him in the off-chance his mother wanted to do dinner out. There was one more thing to pack, and Jensen eyed his remaining pull-ups dubiously. With a frown, he turned away from them and instead, packed a stack of boxers.

When he finished packing, Jensen looked at the clock. He had only a few hours until he had to leave to pick up Misha. Briefly, Jensen considered going to sleep, but there didn't seem like much point. He grabbed a shower instead and changed into clothes for the day. Out of habit, he almost put on his pull-up. He realized his mistake though, and resolutely switched it for regular underwear. It was going to be a long visit.

.................................................

Misha looked at Jensen. The other man had fallen asleep before their plane left the tarmac. He woke up once to go to the bathroom, but otherwise Jensen didn't move. It was probably for the best. When Misha first saw Jensen that morning, he had to suppress a gasp. Dark circles lined Jensen's sockets, while his eyes were overly bright. They flitted from place to place erratically. Caffeine binge, Misha had decided as he eyed Jensen's shaking hands. Really, it was amazing Jensen managed to sleep on the plane at all.

An announcement came over the intercom system, notifying passengers that the plane was beginning its decent. Jensen still didn't wake up, so Misha reached over and fastened his friend's seatbelt. One thing Misha had noticed was that whether Jensen went to sleep little or big didn't matter. With his face relaxed and open, Jensen looked so sweet that Misha couldn't help but want to take care of him. He resisted the urge to cup Jensen's cheek and plant a kiss on his forehead. The boy needed sleep far more than Misha needed the contact. As if picking up on Misha's thoughts, Jensen slumped over until his head rested on Misha's shoulder. Misha chuckled and scratched the short hair affectionately. It was nice to see Jensen peaceful, and Misha doubted he would see that again until their visit was finished.

........................................................

When they landed in Dallas and collected their bags, Jensen made his way over to the rental car companies. Jensen had grown up in the city, but once their children had left, his parents moved to a diminutive town an hour away. Misha had questioned the necessity of renting a car. When he went home he always had someone waiting for him at the airport. Jensen insisted though, saying he wanted to be able to come and go from his parents' house as he pleased. That was another stark difference for Misha. Jensen had booked them a hotel room, rather than stay with his parents.

The drive to Kaufman, where Jensen's parents lived, was unexpectedly pretty. The scenery was especially nice once Jensen took them off the main highway and through some backroads. Jensen said it was to avoid the tolls on the freeway, but Misha had never known the man to put frugality before convenience. It was more likely that Jensen wished to delay meeting his father for as long as possible.

Despite where they were headed, Misha enjoyed the drive. He managed to draw Jensen out of his thoughts and into conversation. After that the time passed quickly, and before long, Jensen took the exit leading into a small town. Misha whistled.

"Told you it was tiny," Jensen said. "Calling it a town is generous."

"It's pretty though."

Jensen just grunted and followed the GPS directions to their hotel.

Misha laughed aloud when they pulled into the parking lot. "Hotel?" he said.

Jensen smiled guiltily. "Motel."

The building epitomized the motel experience. Paint peeled off the outside and rusted numbers marked the many identical doors.

"False advertising," Misha grumbled, but he smiled so Jensen would know he wasn't upset.

"Maybe you should wait here while I check in," Jensen laughed.

Misha did, and when Jensen returned with their room key, they drove around to the back of the building to find room ten.

The inside of the motel was much the same as the outer building. Yellow paper with a flower motif covered the walls, and there were some questionable stains on the carpeted floor. Otherwise the room looked clean though, and the sheets, although thin, were fresh. So long as Misha didn't have to spend his entire day in the room, he was content.

Jensen flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes.

"Jense," Misha said.

"Mm."

"You told your family we would go over as soon as we got into town."

"I don't recall saying anything of the sort."

Misha sighed. "Well, thankfully I have a much better memory. Come on," he said. "Change your shirt, and let's go."

Jensen opened his eyes and frowned at his friend. "Don't wanna," he said. And damn him if he didn't sound like a two year-old. Jensen rolled his eyes at himself and stood up. Misha was right; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could put the butterflies in his stomach to rest. More importantly, if Jensen resisted now, he would continue to look like a stubborn toddler.

Misha frowned as he watched Jensen change. The lack of pull-up was not lost on him. In a sense, it was understandable that Jensen wouldn't want to wear one, but it was also one more case of Jensen putting aside who he was to keep his family happy. Misha was not used to holding his tongue around Jensen; however, he made an exception. This weekend he would have to follow Jensen's lead and respect however Jensen decided to handle things.

..................................................

Jensen walked up the front steps of the unfamiliar house, Misha at his side. Never had he been more thankful for his boyfriend's steady presence. He hesitated on ringing the doorbell, and he felt a gentle touch on his back. Misha met his eyes and nodded encouragingly. At some point, Jensen had to go inside that house, so he took a deep breath and pressed the bell.

Within seconds footsteps could be heard pounding towards the door.

"Brace yourself," Jensen muttered.

Misha didn't have time to consider what he meant before the front door burst open and a small, blond woman threw herself at Jensen. Jensen caught her, staggering back a step. After a moment of hugging, he put her down. They eyed each other critically.

"Easy on the 'roids," she said. "Last time I saw you, you were tiny."

"Last time you saw me I was seventeen. And I was never tiny. What about you? Enough botox there?"

The woman smacked Jensen, before turning her attention to Misha.

"And who is this?"

"This is Misha," Jensen said. "Misha, this is Rachel, my sister. You'll want to avoid her as much as possible."

"Ignore him."

Misha smiled. "I usually do."

Rachel laughed and gave Misha a big hug. Despite her tiny frame, Misha found himself taking a step back under her enthusiasm.

When Rachel released Misha, she turned back to Jensen. "Come in. Mom is so excited to see you. She's talked about nothing else since she found out you were coming. It was 'Jensen this' and 'Jensen that' and 'I have to get the groceries for Jensen's favourite meal'."

Jensen smiled, but Misha could see the tightness behind his eyes. Apparently Rachel noticed it too, because she reached up and gave Jensen another, quicker hug. "I'm really glad you came baby brother. I've missed you so much."

"Missed you too," Jensen said. His voice was thick, and as they followed Rachel inside, Misha gave Jensen's hand a quick squeeze.

Misha and Jensen followed Rachel to the back of the house, where large windows welcomed sunlight into a sitting room. A woman stood up from the chair where she was sitting. She made her way over to them more sedately, but with no less enthusiasm than Rachel had.

Misha watched as Jensen leaned down to hug his mother. It was obvious who the woman was. The resemblance between her, Rachel, and Jensen was strong. While their mother's face was more lined, she was still a beautiful woman. She and Rachel shared the same petite build, which was nothing like Jensen. All three Ackles had the same green eyes and sandy hair though. And Misha was already discovering that Rachel and Jensen had the same smug smirk.

"Mom," Jensen said, when he had finished hugging the woman. "This is Misha. Misha, mom."

Jensen still had his arm around his mother, but she slipped out from under it to give Misha a welcoming hug. "Call me Cathy. Jensen always had good taste," she said, eying Misha up and down. Misha laughed. The welcome was warm and completely unexpected.

"Where's Dan?" Jensen asked. The rest of his question went unsaid, but both his mother and Rachel knew what he meant. Instantly, the atmosphere grew heavier.

"Dan has to work this afternoon, but he'll be here for dinner. Your father isn't home."

The second statement was said in a short, clipped tone. Was Cathy angry or was she just uncomfortable broaching the sensitive topic?

Rachel had no such qualms. "He's golfing," she said coldly. "He'll be home for dinner too though."

Misha looked at Jensen out of the corner of his eye. Jensen's mouth twitched at the news, but he said nothing.

"Any chance of a drink?" Misha asked, needing to break the silence. "It was a long drive."

"Of course," Cathy said. She was clearly happy to have the subject changed, and she rattled off beverage options to Misha as she led him to the kitchen. Misha followed and noticed that Jensen and Rachel remained behind. When he glanced back though, Jensen wore a soft smile. Misha went with Cathy. For the first time he was hopeful that the visit might turn out well after all.

...............................................

For awhile, Misha thought he might be right. Jensen, Rachel, and Cathy had obviously missed each other, and the conversation was light and friendly. Although they occasionally tried to draw him in, Misha was content after the day of travel to sit back and listen while his boyfriend's family caught up.

After about an hour, a key could be heard, turning in the lock of the front door. Misha immediately looked to Jensen. Even across the room, it was obvious the man's shoulders were tensed. All it took was a call of "hello" though, before Jensen was all smiles. He stood as a man roughly his age entered the room. The similarities between the new man and Jensen weren't obvious. His build was closer to Misha' and he had darker hair than the rest of the family. When he saw Jensen and smiled though, it was clear they were related.

"Dan," Jensen said, hugging his brother. "I guess they let just anyone have the key to this place."

"Hey twerp," Dan said. His voice was softer than Jensen's and quieter than Rachel's. Here was the subdued Ackles'. He was still warm though when he greeted Misha, giving his brother's guest a hearty handshake.

Like Misha, Dan seemed happy to let the others talk. It had to be a learned response from growing up with Rachel and Cathy. The two never stopped for breath.

The sky was beginning to darken and Cathy was starting to get antsy about dinner growing cold before the front door opened again. This time, there was no shouted greeting. Misha would have sworn that the room itself became apprehensive as both Rachel and Cathy stopped talking. Everyone was waiting to watch the show-down. It was the main event for which they had all gathered.

Shoes clipped along the hardwood floor of the hallway, and finally a man appeared in the sitting-room entrance. He was mostly gray, but like Cathy, he had aged well. For the most part, Jensen's father was unlined. He resembled Jensen in build, and Misha knew golfing couldn't be the only physical thing he did.

Curious as he had been to see Jensen's infamous father, Misha had lost track of his boyfriend. When the new arrival's eyes flew from Misha to his son, Misha felt his gaze follow. Jensen had stood up from his seat. He took a hesitant step towards his father, hand partially outstretched. His father looked from the gesture up to Jensen's face and nodded once.

"Cathy," he said. "Rachel, Dan."

Then, he turned and left, the clicking of his shoes fading down the hallway.

Jensen sat back down. He focused his gaze on the coffee table. Misha didn't know where to look. His mind was spinning.

"Hey Jensen," Rachel said suddenly. "Do you remember when you drove Mom and Dad's car to Orlando for the long weekend."

Jensen looked from his sister to his mother and paled. From Cathy's face, she had not been aware. "It was Dan's idea," Jensen said.

Dan sputtered, looking at his traitorous brother. "Look, if you want to start with stories, I have a ton on both of you."

Cathy put her head in her hands and sighed. "Where did I go wrong."

The conversation deteriorated from there, with both Jensen and the suddenly unreserved Dan attempting to outdo the other.

As Misha watched his boyfriend fascinated, Rachel caught his eye. She winked. Then she allowed herself to be pulled into the friendly accusations that were being flung between the siblings. The sister was a genius. Unfortunately, that probably meant she had practice at defusing such moments. Misha sighed and accepted when Cathy offered him another drink.

...........................................

Jensen was not in a good mood as he and Misha drove back to the motel that night. Neither he nor his father, Gordon, had said a word to each other over dinner. The reticence on Gordon's part also extended to Misha until Cathy gave the man a look. After that he gruffly asked Misha to pass the salt. It wasn't much, but Jensen appeared somewhat vindicated.

Both Misha and Jensen were quiet until they got back to the motel. Misha had tried to talk initially, but what came out of his mouth was the one thing he had promised himself he wouldn't ask. "Why don't you say anything to him?". As in, why do you put up with that shit? Not 'how are you doing' or 'your mother seems nice'. It was out there though, and Misha couldn't take it back.

Jensen's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "This weekend is about mom," he said. "That's the only reason I'm here. I can be civil so that she can have one peaceful family weekend. After that it's over."

Misha didn't agree, far from it. The look on Jensen's face said everything though, so Misha kept his mouth shut for the rest of the drive. The last thing Jensen needed was to alienate one of his few supports, and that's exactly what he would do if Misha tried to force the issue. Well, Misha wasn't going to let him.

They pulled into the motel parking lot and found their room. It was late by the time they arrived, so Misha began to get ready for bed. What else was there to do anyway? Jensen disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, but when he resurfaced he was still fully dressed.

"I'm going to step out for a moment," he said.

Misha looked up from the book he was reading in bed. "Want company?"

"No," Jensen said. It wasn't intended to be harsh, but his tone was abrupt, and Misha found it stung a bit.

"Yah, okay." Misha turned back to his book. He wasn't in the mood to argue or to deal with a sullen Jensen.

Jensen hesitated at the edge of Misha's vision, but finally he stepped outside the motel and shut the door behind him.

..........................................................

There wasn't anywhere to go, but Jensen was determined to get out of the stuffy motel room. He felt too big for the space, like he was vibrating with too much unburned energy. Misha didn't help. It was obvious the man was irritated, and Jensen knew he was to blame. He couldn't bring himself to deal with that though. Besides, it was Misha, and Jensen was sure everything would be fine by the morning.

With nothing else to do, Jensen began to walk. He got only as far as what passed for the motel's reception when he saw what he needed. Right across the street was a bar. No vehicles were coming, so Jensen darted across the street, stepped into the run-down building, and took a stool at the counter.

"Whiskey, please. A double."

The bartender poured him a glass from a bottle of Jack Daniels. Jensen grimaced, but he threw it back. It did the same thing as a single-malt. He ordered another.

.........................................................

Jensen had not intended to be gone long. He was lost in his own world though, and he failed to notice as the other customers gradually filtered out. Only himself and two men seated at a table remained when the door to the bar swung open abruptly.

"Jensen."

Jensen's head shot up. Shit. He swung around in his stool to face the furious face of Misha Collins. Through the haze of alcohol, Jensen shivered.

"I was worried sick."

Two heads across the room, turned to watch in interest. Misha didn't care though, and Jensen was too far gone to notice.

"Didn't mean to make you worry." Jensen slurred the words, but Misha caught the drift.

"Really? And what did you think would happen when I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren't there, but the rental car was."

"How did you find me?" Jensen asked. From across the counter, the bartended shook his head.

"Really? That's what you have to say? You're lucky I did find you. If I went all night not knowing where you were, you would've been dead as soon as you did turn up."

Jensen blinked blearily, trying to formulate a response.

Misha sighed. "Just come on. Clearly we can't talk about this now." He took Jensen's hand and pulled. The other man slid off the stool, and Jensen only managed to get his footing with help from his boyfriend. Misha grunted under the weight, but he slung Jensen's arm over his shoulder, and the two of them managed to stumble back to their motel room.

Jensen fell down onto the bed almost as soon as they got back. Instead of trying to rouse him, Misha removed Jensen's shoes and socks himself. He needed the other man's help to change the rest of his clothes, but as soon as that was finished, Jensen was passed out in the bed. Misha sighed and tucked in his boy. Tomorrow he could say everything he wanted.

.......................................................

Jensen had just finished apologizing to Misha when someone knocked on their door. Since he knew he would be trying for ages to make the previous night up to his boyfriend, Jensen got out of bed to answer. He groaned as he stood, but Misha just smirked at him. In Misha's eyes a hangover was probably the least he deserved. Jensen was willing to do whatever it took to apologize too. When he woke up that morning he saw the long list of missed calls and text messages from the other man. He felt awful, and it wasn't from the alcohol.

Jensen opened the door and found himself face-to-face with a beaming Rachel.

"Jesus Jensen," she said as she removed her sunglasses. "You look worse than the time you and Paige Miller got into her dad's bourbon."

"How did you find me?"

Misha appeared at Jensen's shoulder. "That's my fault," he said guiltily. "She wanted the address and said you wouldn't mind."

Jensen groaned. "Rookie mistake." He went back inside and flopped down on the unmade bed.

"Come on," Rachel said. She pulled at Jensen's limp hand. "I'm taking you to breakfast. Greasy food and hair of the dog. You'll feel better in no time."

"Where will I find alcohol at 10am?" Jensen asked.

Rachel hesitated. "Well, I'll get you a mimosa anyway. I bet Misha wants to get out of here, right?"

All it took was one look at Misha's face to know his sister was right. And after the previous night, Jensen would do anything to make the other man happy. Jensen rolled his eyes at Rachel's grin. It was Rachel one, Jensen zero, and she was very much aware.

.......................................................

Misha thought back on the day as he waited for Jensen to finish in their tiny bathroom. The place Rachel had taken them to for breakfast wasn't bad. Even better though, was the conversation. After some coffee, Jensen was mostly recovered and able to join in.

Misha had already decided he liked Jensen's sister. It hadn't taken long. She awed him in the way she caused Jensen to smile, made Misha feel at home, and stood up to her father, while simultaneously keeping the other members of the family at peace. His warm feelings towards her were cemented though, when Jensen left part way through breakfast to go to the washroom.

"So how long have you been dating my little brother?" she asked. Rachel sat causally, playing with her straw, but Misha could tell her attention was fully on what he had to say. It was unexpectedly daunting.

"A few months now."

"Huh. I would have thought it was longer."

Misha had to ask. "Is it a bad thing?"

Rachel laughed, sounding disturbingly like a female Jensen. "No, not at all. I'm just impressed."

Misha said nothing, hoping she would continue before Jensen got back.

"You know that Jensen wouldn't have come here in a million years if it wasn't for you being here with him."

Misha tried not to blush and ended up coughing to hide his sudden awkwardness.

"No really," Rachel said. "He obviously feels comfortable and supported with you. And we appreciate it. We've all really missed him, especially Mom. You know, it was years before he would even take our calls? So thank you."

"You're welcome," Misha said, although he still wasn't sure how much he had done. It was touching though to know Rachel thought he had made a difference.

Rachel leaned forward again, this time with a grin that made Misha nervous. "So you're in my good books for now Collins, but hurt Jensen and I will sic Dan on you. He's tougher than he looks."

Rachel looked over Misha's shoulder then and smiled brightly. "Oh hey, Jensen."

Jensen eyed her suspiciously. He looked at Misha who just shrugged, so Jensen let it go.

The rest of the day had been spent with Cathy, Dan, and Rachel. Cathy wanted to show them the town. There wasn't much to see though, so after their tour, the family went back to the house to sit and chat. Cathy disappeared for a bit to do some baking and left her children to visit. Misha found it a bit odd that Gordon was never brought up. When they arrived at the house and he wasn't present, Jensen hadn't even asked after him, and no explanation was offered. It was as if the man didn't exist, and as long as it stayed that way, Jensen seemed content. Occasionally, Misha would notice his boyfriend seemed lost in his own world. The memories couldn't have been pleasant, since Jensen's jaw was always clenched, but once he noticed Misha watching he would smile and rejoin Earth.

Despite the pleasantness of the day, Misha felt unsettled. There were only a couple of days left to their visit, and Jensen had yet to address the reason they went down to Texas in the first place. In fact, other than that single nod, Jensen and Gordon had not acknowledged each other. Misha suspected Jensen was saving speaking to his father for the end of the holiday, so he could take off immediately afterwards. To Misha though, it felt like the task was constantly hanging over both their heads, and he wished Jensen would get on with it.

Misha looked up when Jensen exited the bathroom. He was still in his clothing from the day.

"Going to get ready for bed?" Misha asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Yah, in a bit. I'm not tired yet."

Jensen yawned, and Misha raised his eyebrow.

Jensen sighed. "I don't feel like trying to fall asleep. There are too many thoughts. I won't be able to, so I'll just lay there. It'll suck," he concluded lamely.

Misha couldn't blame Jensen, but the man was obviously exhausted. If they had been home, Misha would have gone into daddy mode and ordered or cajoled Jensen into bed; instead, he tried bargaining. "Just lie down with me for a bit. If you don't fall asleep then you can get up and do whatever."

Jensen obviously wasn't a fan of the idea, but he nodded. Only a half hour later, he was tucked against Misha, snoring gently.

...............................................

Misha did not have a good sleep. He was frequently woken up by Jensen, who was in and out of nightmares most of the night. It would begin with a whimper and eventually escalate to thrashing. The first couple of times, Misha hoped Jensen's dreams would dissolve into a peaceful sleep, but finally he gave up on that and started waking Jensen gently. It didn't seem like Jensen ever fully woke up. He would come-to groggily for a moment before rolling over and falling back to sleep. Within an hour though, the cycle would repeat. Misha thought momentarily about going to sleep in the car, but he couldn't stomach the idea of Jensen waking up after a horrible dream and finding himself alone in the dingy motel room. After that mental image, Misha stayed put.

Around five in the morning, Jensen's nightmares finally relented long enough that Misha could go to sleep. The boy whimpered softly occasionally, but he was subdued enough that Misha drifted out of consciousness.

It was far too early in Misha's book when he was pulled from sleep by someone shaking him.

"What," he said in a mix of exhaustion and irritation.

The shaking stopped abruptly, and Misha began to drift back to sleep. Before he was fully unconscious though, he heard a small voice say, "Misha?".

Misha opened his eyes immediately. Jensen. He rolled over to face his boy, who jerked in surprise. With one look, Misha could tell something was wrong. Jensen looked terrified. His face was pale and his huge eyes took in Misha desperately.

"Nightmare?" Misha asked, still not fully awake.

"No," Jensen mumbled. "Well, yah, but..."

Misha waited as patiently as he could after three hours of sleep.

Finally, Jensen looked away from him and in a rush said, "Daddy, I wet the bed."

The boy hid his face in his hands, while Misha tried to process what he said. The pull-ups should've... But Jensen hadn't brought any with him. And then, Misha remembered where they were. He drew back the covers, revealing Jensen's soaked boxers and a large yellow stain on the motel sheets.

Jensen met Misha's eyes then, and the older man almost wished he hadn't. The boy was pleading for reassurances, but even more-so, Jensen wanted to know how Misha was going to fix it. Misha wanted to know that himself.

Chapter Text

"Daddy?"

Misha realized he had been silent for too long. "It's okay, little man," he said, drawing Jensen to him in a hug. "We'll figure it out."

Jensen whimpered, and Misha felt terrible that he couldn't be more reassuring.

"Let Daddy up for a moment."

Jensen shook his head against Misha's chest, and Misha chuckled. "I promise I'll be right back."

With a sigh, Jensen released his daddy, and Misha got out of bed. He found what he was looking for on the table and he opened the door to their room quickly to put the "do not disturb" sign on their door. At least he now had time to think. Another whimper from the bed brought Misha's attention back to his other immediate concern. He found Jensen's suitcase and grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxers. Then, he wet a facecloth in the bathroom and went back to his baby.

"Jensen," Misha said softly. His boy was only visible as a lump underneath the blankets.

At the sound of his daddy's voice, Jensen poked his head out from his nest.

"Sit up for me, baby."

Jensen, never the morning person, didn't even grumble, but did as he was told. Misha stripped him of his shirt and had him stand up so his boxers could follow. Then Misha cleaned Jensen as carefully as his could without giving him an actual bath. Neither of them had the energy for that at the moment. Finally, Misha dressed Jensen in clean clothes and led the boy around to his side of the bed. He pulled back the covers, had Jensen lie down, and then tucked him in. Misha wasn't sure how he was going to deal with the mattress yet, but he knew from experience it would be harder to deal with if the stain was dry. He re-wet the cloth he used to clean Jensen, then dabbed the stain with cool water. Content that it wouldn't dry for a few hours, Misha climbed into the bed next to Jensen, and snuggled his little boy to him. Jensen whimpered and buried his face in Misha's chest. Misha could already feel himself being drawn towards sleep, but he forced himself to stay awake to stroke Jensen's hair.

"Shh," he whispered. "Go back to sleep now."

"Sheets," Jensen said in a small, quizzical voice.

"It's fine baby. For now, get some sleep."

And Jensen relaxed into his daddy's chest immediately. Misha wrapped his arms tighter around his boy, touched, amazed, and a little overwhelmed that he could sooth Jensen with such a small reassurance. The knowledge made Misha feel special, like he could do anything. He knew he would do anything possible to make Jensen feel better. No one deserved the holiday Jensen was having, but especially not his baby.

At some point, Misha dozed off. He slept peacefully until Jensen's squirming woke him up.

"Jense?" Misha asked groggily.

"Sorry Daddy," Jensen said.

Misha felt a small thrill that he still had his boy and Jensen hadn't aged up as he slept. Then again, Misha supposed that lying next to a puddle of pee would keep Jensen feeling little if anything could. Jensen squirmed again.

"What's wrong baby?"

"Gotta potty," Jensen said, sounding younger than Misha had heard in all their time together.

Misha was tempted to tell Jensen just to use his pull-up, but he remembered with a groan, that Jensen wasn't wearing one.

"Okay baby," Misha said. He pulled back the covers so Jensen could crawl over him.

Misha's eyes were closed, so it took a moment after Jensen had clambered out of bed for him to realize that the boy was still standing beside him. He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to focus on Jensen's face.

"Everything okay, Jense?"

Jensen shrugged. His gaze was fixated on his feet.

"Baby? You have to tell me if there's something you want."

"Will you come with me?"

The request woke Misha up immediately. He was surprised, but not at all displeased. "Of course," he said with a smile.

Misha went with Jensen while the boy peed, then helped him wash his hands. Afterwards, he started to lead them back to bed, but Jensen said, "chair."

"You want us to sit together?" Misha assessed the room's only chair. It looked comfortable enough, with its thick faux-leather armrests. "I guess we can do that," Misha decided. He sat down in the chair and had barely gotten himself settled when Jensen clambered onto his lap. The boy positioned himself so that his head rested on Misha's shoulder and his legs draped over the armrest. Misha tried not to grunt as Jensen made himself comfortable. His boy was by no means small.

Once Jensen was content, Misha gently stroked the arm he could reach. Jensen snuggled in further with a happy smile on his face. It was touching, but it also brought to light another problem. Jensen showed no signs of wanting to be older. Misha knew if Jensen had to he would, but Misha desperately wanted to avoid asking that of his boy. If his plan for the sheets was going to work though, Jensen would need to grow up soon. Otherwise Misha would have to choose between telling the motel staff about the wet bed or telling Jensen's mother he had to cancel their afternoon plans. The latter was not an option in Misha's mind.

Misha waited a while longer, watching the old digital alarm clock count the minutes. He sighed. It was time to make a decision, and really, Jensen should be the one to make it.

"Jensen, baby."

Jensen looked at him with a sleepy smile. Damn, the cuteness made it harder to talk, especially since Misha didn't know when he would next get to see such an unreserved Little Jensen.

"We have a couple of things we can do about the sheets."

Jensen stiffened at the reminder of his predicament, but he gave Misha his full attention.

"If you want more time cuddling, we can have that. I'll just have to tell the motel staff what happened."

All the colour drained from Jensen's face.

Option two then, Misha thought.

"If you don't want to do that, we can take the sheets to the laundromat. They must have one here."

"What about the mattress?" Jensen asked.

Misha winked and gave him a smile. "Your Daddy knows a few tricks."

Jensen sat up, and instantly Misha could sense the change in him.

"Thank you. That's a huge relief. I suppose I should go do that now if we're going to meet mom later. You don't have to come with me. The laundromat isn't the most exciting place to spend a vacation."

"Any place is exciting with you Jensen," Misha said wryly. He laughed at the look Jensen gave him. "Why don't I walk you down there? Then I'll go get some things for the mattress while you wait for the sheets."

"Sounds good," Jensen said. He stood up, and just like that, all vestiges of Misha's little boy were gone.

Misha didn't follow when Jensen went to dress and brush his teeth. He did help when Jensen began to strip the bed, and when the stained mattress was uncovered and Jensen leaned against it with his eyes tightly closed, Misha came behind him to offer a hug. Jensen stopped leaning on the mattress and straightened so his weight fell against Misha's chest instead. They stood like that until Misha reluctantly suggested they had to leave, and Jensen opened his eyes.

It wasn't difficult to sneak the sheets out of the motel room in Jensen's backpack. Misha double checked before they drove away, and yes, the "do not disturb" sign was still hanging from their door handle.

Misha navigated, and soon they were parking outside a small laundromat. It was empty, to Jensen's relief. The only person he had to contend with was the woman running the shop, but she didn't seem interested in him. Even still, Misha asked her where the nearest convenience store was while Jensen removed the balled-up sheets from his bag and quickly stuffed them into a washing machine. Misha walked back over as Jensen was turning the washer to its hot cycle.

"I'm going to head out," Misha said.

"Okay." Jensen sounded casual, and Misha eyed him speculatively. All day Jensen's emotions had been like a game of roulette as far as Misha was concerned. He never knew if the man was going to be big, little, calm, or overwrought. Misha had his suspicions that even Jensen didn't know.

Just in case, Misha gave Jensen what he hoped was a comforting hug. "Call me if you want me to come back sooner," he said.

"I will."

Misha didn't believe his boyfriend for a second, but he left anyway. According to the woman, the nearest drugstore was only a ten minute walk away. As he set out down the quiet streets, Misha realized that likely everything in the town was ten minutes away.

Misha found the drugstore without trouble, and was pleased to see it carried everything he needed. Almost everything at least. Pull-ups, what Misha had been most hoping to buy, were apparently not a staple. The only thing the store carried was diapers, and while Misha thought they would be better anyway, he knew Jensen would never go for the idea.

Misha did his best to find an alternative and asked a man stocking shelves nearby. There was only one other pharmacy in town though, and being the same chain, they carried the same merchandise.

Well, Misha thought, diapers it is.

He chose a brand he had found effective in the past and steeled himself as he brought his items to the counter. Misha had bought diapers enough that it didn't embarrass him any longer. More worrying than an old cashier's reaction to his purchases was Jensen's though. Misha knew he would be in for a fight that evening, but he had been wanting to get Jensen into proper diapers for awhile, and he finally had an excuse. As he walked back to the laundromat, Misha began rehearsing the conversation to come in his head. Jensen was stubborn, but Misha was more than determined enough to make up for it.

Chapter Text

"Absolutely not," said Jensen.

He sat on the bed, staring at the pack of diapers in Misha's hands.

"I know you're not comfortable with them, but it was all the store had."

"I'm not wearing them."

Misha sighed. "Look, I get it. They bring back bad memories, which has to be especially hard right now. You didn't pack your pull-ups though, and I'm not spending another day at the laundromat."

Jensen blushed. "Sorry," he said.

"I'm not trying to get an apology. If it happens once it's an accident, and I will do anything I can to help. If it happens again though, that's us not learning from our mistakes."

"It won't happen again," Jensen argued.

"Oh?"

"I'll make sure."

"Jensen," Misha said in exasperation. "You are not staying up all night to make sure you don't wet the bed. Especially not when we have an easy solution."

Jensen glared at Misha. With his arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out, he looked like a petulant child. It made what Misha had to do that much easier.

"Jensen, this is no longer up for debate. Unless you want to use your safe word, you will let me put a diaper on you, and you will leave it on until I decide to remove it."

The two men stared each other down, and Misha began to wonder if Jensen would safe-word out after all. Usually, Jensen would back down as soon as Misha put on his daddy voice. Then again, Misha realized he had never pushed Jensen so close to his limits.

..........................................

Jensen stared up at his daddy - Misha. For this trip, it was Misha. He toyed with his safe word. It was on the tip of his lips. Everything was too much: feelings of shame for needing the diapers; anger at Misha for forcing him to make this decision; guilt over forcing Misha to be the bad guy. Jensen felt his resolve waver. He was so tired, and just giving in was easier. He could use his safe word, but there would be consequences. Who knew how long it would take him to make it up to Misha. He also didn't feel up for the conversation that was certain to follow.

"Okay," Jensen said quietly.

"What?" Misha actually looked surprised. And relieved.

At least Jensen knew he had made the right decision.

"I said okay."

"Thank you, baby."

Misha instructed Jensen to lie down on the bed, and Jensen did as he was told. He looked away as Misha slid down his pants. It wasn't as though Misha hadn't helped him with his pull-ups before, but being seen naked like this was a whole new level of vulnerability.

"Lift up," Misha told him, and Jensen did so, allowing his boyfriend to slide the diaper under his bum.

Misha powdered him and taped up the diaper, and Jensen was enclosed in warmth and softness. It didn't bring comfort though, not like the pull-ups did. The diapers only brought memories. They were reminders of how Jensen had screwed up, of why his father didn't want him for a son, of the fact that he had lost his family, his support system in a single afternoon. He was there, in that motel room, because of diapers.

"Oh Jensen baby," Misha said.

It wasn't until he finally looked at Misha and saw the man through a blurry haze, that Jensen realized he had been silently crying. It had been going on long enough that his tears had formed a wet patch on the bed beneath his cheek.

"I think I'll go to bed," Jensen said. He wasn't tired, but he didn't want to talk to Misha. Embarrassment for his overreaction filled him, but at the same time, he resented the diapers and couldn't bring himself to apologize. It was a hateful combination, and Jensen liked neither perspective. Without any way to act on his emotions, he felt trapped in the motel room, which suddenly felt too small.

"Jense-"

"It's okay," Jensen said woodenly. "I just have to get used to it. I'm tired though."

With that, Jensen climbed beneath the covers and lay on his side, facing away from Misha. He felt his daddy-boyfriend-whatever pull the blankets up around him, but he remained silent. Not knowing whether to apologize, tell Daddy that Jensen loved him, or demand that Misha remove the diaper, Jensen knew he was better off keeping quiet. He pretended to be asleep.

.................................................

Misha was a dick. At least that was what he told himself. He knew Jensen's issues with diapers when he bought them, but he truly believed Jensen would get over it if the boy gave them a try. Apparently he had been wrong. Very wrong.

Misha pulled the covers up around Jensen, then lay down on his own side of the bed. Jensen's closed eyes hurt. There was no way anyone fell asleep that quickly; instead, it was a clear sign that Jensen didn't want to talk to him. Misha thought about insisting, but he had pushed his weight around enough for one evening. Enough for a lifetime with Jensen if this was the fallout. Beside him, the ball that was Jensen would occasionally shudder with a silent sob.

It was hours before Misha fell asleep that night, despite his growing sleep deficit. Eventually, Jensen stopped crying, and shortly after, his breathing deepened with sleep. Misha had no such luck though. He tossed and turned, unable to shake the fear that he had irreparably broken Jensen's trust. When Misha did finally sleep, he dreamed of Jensen. Jensen having a meltdown; Jensen screaming hatred at him; Jensen finding a new daddy. Who has ever said dreams are rational?

Misha woke early the following morning to see Jensen watching him. Their eyes met and neither man spoke.

Finally, Jensen broke the silence. "I'm sorry," he said.

Misha let go of the breath he had been holding. "I'm sorry I pushed you too far. I thought you would use your safe word if it was that big an issue."

Jensen shook his head. "I overreacted. It was my fault, not your's."

Something still didn't feel right, and Misha frowned. It wasn't as though Jensen had been particularly sunny this trip, but that morning, Jensen seemed almost deflated. Taking a chance, Misha pulled Jensen to him. Relief rushed through him when his boy didn't resist the contact.

They lay against each other for another hour, while Misha stroked his boy's hair, and Jensen fell in and out of sleep. The beautiful calm was interrupted by Jensen's phone ringing.

"Hello?" he answered.

Misha could hear only the occasional word from the other line, but Jensen finally grumbled, "okay," and hung up.

"Rachel," Jensen said in response to Misha's raised eyebrow. "She's on her way to pick us up."

"Well, at least she called this time."

"Only because Dan's coming too, and he has some propriety."

Misha shrugged. "It's our last full day. Not too surprising they want to see you."

Jensen grumbled under his breath, but he got out of bed anyway. Misha watched as he woodenly chose clothes from his suitcase and started to take them to the washroom.

In a desperate attempt to feel close to his boy again, Misha followed him.

"I've got it," Jensen said.

Misha looked him in the eyes though. "Please?" he asked.

Finally, Jensen nodded. He gave a disinterested shrug as he handed the change of clothes to Misha, but it didn't hide the blush that coloured his cheeks.

Misha put the clothes aside and pulled down Jensen's pyjama bottoms. When he did, he revealed a soaked diaper.

"Jensen?"

Jensen shrugged again. His normally expressive face was flat. "You were asleep, and you told me not to take it off until you said so."

"Oh," Misha said lamely. I'm such a dick, he thought again, and it was his turn to blush.

"You could have woken me up. Or told me this morning. I would have changed you."

"Didn't matter. Look, Rachel and Dan will be here soon. This isn't the best time for a discussion."

It felt like a slap in the face, but Misha nodded. He finished helping Jensen change, even though he wasn't certain if he was making things better or worse.

Misha had just finished getting dressed himself, when someone pounded on their door. He heard Jensen open it and say something to Rachel. Misha walked out in time to see Rachel punch Jensen in the shoulder and Jensen tell her to "frig off" in return. Things didn't escalate further thanks to Dan and Misha's timely arrivals. Rachel beamed at Misha and crossed the room to give him a hug. The glare that Jensen directed their way could have been meant for either of them.

"Where are we going?" Misha finally asked once they were all loaded into the car and Dan had started to drive.

Rachel turned around in her seat. "Well, Jensen's going to go spend some time with Mom, and you're coming with us."

"Absolutely not," Jensen growled.

"Woah," Rachel said, raising her hands. "Someone's pissy today. All the more reason Dan and I should save Misha from you for a bit."

Misha winced. Jensen just looked out the car window and said nothing to any of them for the rest of the trip.

...................................................

When they arrived at their parents' house, Jensen leaned over in the seat and gave Misha a hug. "Don't let Rachel boss you around too much," he said with a slight smile.

Misha nodded and watched as Jensen walked away and disappeared into the house. Everything felt so wrong.

When Misha faced forward again, Dan and Rachel were exchanging a look in the front seat.

"Good thing we got ahold of you when we did," Rachel said.

"Dan?" Misha asked. "Translation?"

Dan shrugged. "Pretty much what she said."

After that, Misha sat and listened to Rachel chat. He and Dan contributed when she wanted their input, but otherwise both were content to be left to their own thoughts.

They drove through the town and kept going back towards Dallas. Finally, Dan pulled off the highway and down a dirt road. After another kilometre of potholes, the road ended and Dan parked. There was no official space for the car, but considering they hadn't seen another vehicle since leaving the highway, Misha supposed it didn't matter. He followed Dan and Rachel as they set out down a path. It didn't take long before Misha began to regret his jeans and lack of sneakers. It was a warm day, and sweat was soon dripping down his face. The path was littered with rocks and the occasional tree root, forcing Misha to focus on where he stepped. It was because of this that he walked right into Dan's back when the other man stopped abruptly.

"Here we are," Dan said. He stepped aside so Misha could see. The path opened into a clearing with a lake. It was beautiful, and it was just the three of them. Rachel pulled three beach towels from her backpack and spread them out on the grass. She and Dan took a seat, and Misha followed suit, claiming the remaining towel. Dan had a bag too, and from his, he pulled three beers. Misha accepted the drink gladly, even if it was a bit warm after their walk.

"Cheers," Dan said. "Welcome to the Ackles insanity... I mean, family"

Rachel, Dan, and Misha relaxed with their drinks, enjoying the beautiful day, the solitude, and each other's company. Finally though, Rachel looked at Misha and cocked her eyebrows. "So, trouble in paradise today?"

Misha almost choked on his beer. He rarely discussed his relationships with anyone, let alone his boyfriend's family.

"What Rachel meant to say was that we know seeing our family is stressful for Jensen, and it likely hasn't been easy on you either. We just don't want it to strain things between you," Dan said.

"We like you," Rachel added. "I want to see Jensen again before I'm in a nursing home, and it certainly won't happen without you in the picture."

Dan elbowed her.

"And I like you as a person," Rachel added, rubbing her shoulder.

Misha sighed. Rachel and Dan seemed genuine, and as long as he didn't give specifics, it couldn't hurt to get their insight.

"I screwed up," Misha said finally. "I pushed Jensen into something he didn't want to do. Now I'm worried I broke the relationship."

"Kinky," Rachel said, and Dan elbowed her again.

"Jesus, Dan. I was joking. Seriously though," Rachel added. "Dan and I may not have seen Jensen in a while, but we still know our brother. If anyone breaks off your relationship in the next bit, it won't be Jensen."

"He's...smitten," Dan said.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "That works, I guess. Jensen can be pissy, but he will forgive you for whatever happened. He just needs time. Trust me. If Jensen never forgave and forgot we wouldn't have made it past age five without killing each other."

"She's not wrong," Dan said. "About any of it."

"Also," Rachel added, "Jensen doesn't let himself get forced into stuff. I don't know what you pushed him to do, but no one makes Jensen do anything except Jensen. He's too goddamn stubborn."

Misha snorted, and Dan laughed.

"On some level he wanted to go along with you, even if it was just because he wanted to keep you happy more than he wanted to avoid whatever he was avoiding."

Dan nodded. "Rachel's going to talk to him later. She has always been the best at getting him to take his head out of his ass."

"Well, I'm not a miracle worker," Rachel said. "But I'll make sure he knows he's being an idiot." At the concerned look on Misha's face, she added, "and I won't mention our conversation."

Misha mulled over their words as the siblings got onto a different topic. It was a different perspective, and it was true, Misha realized. As much as Jensen deferred to him or Jared, he would always put his foot down if he didn't agree with something. Jensen's problem wasn't letting Misha force him to do something, it was giving more weight to keeping other people happy and avoiding arguments than to his own comfort. As long as the relationship wasn't finished, Misha would approach sensitive topics differently with Jensen from then on. He wouldn't have a repeat of this.

.................................................

It had taken Jensen's mother all of thirty seconds to realize something was wrong. He pulled away from hugging her "hello", and she was already sizing up his face.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Did Gordon-"

"It has nothing to do with Dad," Jensen said. For once.

Cathy looked at her son knowingly. She said nothing more on the subject though until she and Jensen were sitting on the back porch a few hours later.

"Misha's really something," Cathy said as she took a sip from her lemonade.

"You have no idea," Jensen agreed. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me.

"Better than your own mother?"

Jensen rolled his eyes.

"Just teasing you, Dear," Cathy said with a smile. Her face became serious again though. "What will you do if he doesn't stay on for another season. Would you leave the show?"

"Jared and I are contracted into at least season five. But if I wasn't? I think I would leave if he was serious about me too."

"Oh, Honey. I can promise that Misha is serious about you. You just need to see how he looks at you; it's the same way that you look at him. Jensen, you keep things to yourself, and that's mine and your father's fault. If you really care about Misha, and I know you do," Cathy added to cut off Jensen's protest. "Just talk to him. He seems like a sensible man. Quirky, but practical. I'm sure you too can work through whatever is wrong."

Jensen smiled genuinely for the first time that day. He reached across the space between their chairs to clasp his mother's hand and planted a kiss on it. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Cathy said.

They both looked up then as they heard the front door open, and multiple voices sounded down the hall. Jensen looked at his mother.

"Go ahead," Cathy said with a smile. "Talk to Misha."

Jensen nodded. It was showtime. He would fix things, as long as he hadn't screwed them up too badly. This was Misha Collins. For him, Jensen would leave the best thing to ever happen to his career. Jensen would wear diapers each day for the rest of his life if it meant something to Misha. With those realizations in mind, Jensen walked determinedly towards Misha and hopefully, towards their future together.

Chapter Text

Jensen plastered a smile on his face as he walked to meet his siblings and his boyfriend. Inside though, he was steely determination overlying nervous energy. His anxiety doubled when he met Misha's eyes and received a cautious smile from the other man.

"Hey," Jensen said. He wanted to cringe when his voice hitched a little; instead, he forced an even bigger smile.

"Speak of the devil," Rachel said.

"Oh?" Jensen asked, happy to seize the opportunity for light conversation.

"Dan and I were just telling Misha about your childhood escapades."

Jensen snorted.

"I just realized, Misha hasn't seen your old yearbooks. You should show him," Rachel said. "They're upstairs in the guest room."

Jensen eyed his sister, and she gave him a wink. The delivery was far from subtle, but at least Rachel had provided him a way to speak privately with Misha.

Misha obviously wanted a solo moment as well, because he chuckled and put in, "I need to see the infamous younger Jensen."

"After you," Jensen said with a half bow and flourishing hands.

Misha led the way down the hall and up the stairs. Then, he waited while Jensen caught up. Jensen didn't know whether to prolong the moment until he would draw even with Misha or to rush to the man and spill everything on his mind. The need to fix things was like a physical ache.

Calmly though, Jensen continued past his boyfriend and led the way into the guest room. As soon as Misha entered, Jensen shut the door behind them both. He made no move to find the books, but stood, facing the blue-eyed gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said. This time, the words weren't born from a desire to end an uncomfortable situation. Jensen meant it.

"I really did overreact before. Asking me to wear a- to wear one of those wasn't unreasonable. I'm sorry I made a big deal out of it. I'll wear them without a fuss from now on."

Misha sighed. It was not the reaction Jensen had expected, and he felt himself begin to panic. The idea that Misha might not accept his apology hadn't truly been a consideration. At that moment though, Jensen could imagine Misha walking out the door. His eyes grew wide and his hands shook.

"I'm sorry. Please. Please don't lea-"

"Shh," Misha said, and he pulled Jensen into a hug. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just sorry that you think you have to give into this to make me stay. I don't want you to do something that makes you this unhappy."

Jensen shrugged. "It matters to you, and it's not a big deal, so I'll do it. I'll wear... them."

Misha smiled wryly. "Diapers, Jensen. Diapers. You can't even say the word."

"I can."

"That's beside the point. I'm touched that you're willing to do something you don't want to because you think it matters to me, but this isn't important enough for that. It's not necessary for you to be unhappy, so please don't automatically assume you should be the one to compromise yourself."

Jensen nodded, and he felt warmth spread through him when Misha offered a genuine smile and pulled him into another hug.

"Misha?" Jensen asked, still pressed against his boyfriend's chest.

"Mm?"

"What if I want to try them?"

Misha drew back, and Jensen squirmed under the other man's gaze.

"I mean, I used to love them. I kind of wish I could get that back. Maybe if I could associated them-" Jensen drew in a deep breath- "diapers, with something nice I could enjoy them... diapers... again."

Jensen knew his face was bright red, but Misha didn't laugh or call him pathetic or any of the other things the voices in Jensen's own mind were doing.

Encouraged, Jensen added, "I'll need your help though, and I'm sorry in advance if I take awhile to get comfortable."

Misha put two fingers to Jensen's lips. "Baby, I would love to help you make some good memories with diapers."

Jensen couldn't contain the love he felt for the man standing before him. Misha Collins. Caring, understanding, hilarious, perfect Misha Collins.

"I love you," Jensen whispered.

"I love you too."

Jensen didn't know which of them started the kiss, but it didn't matter, because they both responded. As Misha's lips moved over his, Jensen ran his fingers through the man's soft, dark hair. It was impossible for them to get close enough. Misha put a hand in Jensen's hair and pulled back, exposing the other man's neck, and Jensen moaned in anticipation for the attention his throat was about to receive.

It never came though. As Misha bore down on Jensen, the door to the room swung open.

"Dinner's re-"

Gordon stopped. Misha stopped. Jensen's universe froze.

Chapter Text

Misha recovered first. He released Jensen's hair and replaced it with a comforting arm around his boyfriend's waist. The tender touch snapped Gordon out of his shock. Misha watched in fascination as Gordon's mouth worked without any sound coming out.

"Dad-" Jensen finally said.

"Don't call me that," Gordon snapped. "It's bad enough that you still won't give up this... lifestyle... but then you bring him here," he gestured wildly at Misha. "And you flaunt your... I won't call it a relationship."

"Dad-"

"I thought if you went off on your own you would grow up, get out of this." Gordon rounded on Misha then, and his eyes darkened even further. "But you," he said, stabbing a finger into Misha's chest, "you have to ruin him completely. Just because you are de--"

Misha's eyes widened as Jensen's hand passed in front of him to slap Gordon's away. A moment later, Jensen had placed himself directly between Misha and his father.

"Do not," Jensen breathed, "touch him again."

Gordon opened his mouth angrily, but Jensen gave him no chance to speak.

"You can speak to me that way, but Misha is the most incredible person I know, and I will not let you talk to him like that."

Jensen turned to Misha then, seizing the opportunity his father's stunned surprise offered. "Misha, go wait downstairs."

Misha hesitated, eyeing the set of Jensen's shoulders. Never had he seen gentle-natured Jensen so full of furious energy. Even when the man played angry Dean, Jensen had to build himself up to it. Now though, Misha's boyfriend was nearly trembling with rage. Misha only knew that though because he could feel Jensen vibrating against him. Outwardly, Gordon's son was calm and severe. He glared down at his father and his level voice was more terrifying than Gordon's ranting ever could be.

"Now, Misha," Jensen said.

Stunned, Misha felt himself turn about and exit the room. He made no effort to hear anymore, but Jensen's trained voice carried down the hallway after him.

"Misha has spent the entirety of our relationship undoing every bit of damage you did. He is good... just so good. A good person."

Misha heard a muffled voice as Gordon spoke, but Jensen cut his father off. "Well, it's more than I can say about you. I can't even look at you, let alone call you my father. But Gordon, someday I hope Misha and I will have a son. Because I won't make your mistakes, and Misha will be the most incredible dad any child could ask for."

With that, Misha heard a door slam and heavy footsteps pass down the hall. He jogged down the stairs, in awe of everything that had just happened. Misha had stood up for himself in the past, but never had another person done it for him. And what Jensen had said afterwards. It was too much for Misha to process at the moment; fireworks had been set off in his head.

Misha just got to the bottom of the stairs when he was met by a fuming Jensen, a concerned Cathy, and Rachel and Dan, who shared an unsurprised look. At the centre of such a group was a disconcerting place to be, and Misha looked to Jensen to follow his boyfriend's lead.

"Mom," Jensen said tersely, "need a moment with you. Misha and I made a mistake in booking our flights. We have to leave earlier than we thought. Right now actually."

Cathy looked stunned, then furious, then heart-broken. She asked no questions though and hugged Misha tightly before following Jensen to the kitchen.

"It was a pleasure, Misha," Dan said, extending his hand.

"I'm going to kill Dad," Rachel growled. "This is bullshit." And Dan said nothing to argue.

Misha shook Dan's hand and gave Rachel a hug. "Please come visit us anytime," he said sincerely. "I can tell Jensen misses you both. Now I will too." Misha forced a grin to lighten the mood. "I'll even give you our address, Rachel, and I won't warn Jensen. You can come shock the hell out of him anytime you want."

Rachel smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Please bring him back, Misha. It can be when Dad's not around, but Mom will be crushed if this is the last time she sees him."

Misha nodded and was about to promise he would do his best when Jensen and Cathy returned. Cathy's eyes were red, but she wore a tight smile. She gave Jensen a kiss, then let him say 'goodbye' to his siblings.

"Don't get Dan into any trouble," Jensen told Rachel. She scoffed and gave him a hug. It was quiet, but Misha was close enough to hear Jensen whisper into his sister's ear, "I love you Rach. I'm going to miss you." When Rachel pulled back, her eyes glistened. She hugged Misha quickly, then left, not looking back.

Jensen hugged Dan as well, then he opened the door and gestured for Misha to step out.

Misha got behind the wheel of the car, not sure if Jensen was in a state to drive. He was glad he did. As soon as they drove out of sight of the house, Jensen slumped against the window and closed his eyes. Misha wasn't sure whether to say anything or not, but Jensen broke the silence for him.

"I'm so sorry," Jensen said.

"For what?"

Jensen bolted upright and faced Misha, staring at him incredulously. "For what? For my- for Gordon. The things he said... The man is poisonous. I can't believe I thought he might have changed. I guess I didn't. Believe it, I mean. Maybe I just hoped that time... It was naive. I'm so sorry for bringing you here."

Misha reached over and stroked the part of Jensen's back that he could reach while driving. "Jense, that says nothing about you. If you said those things to me it would be one thing, but you can't control other people."

"You defended my honour beautifully though," Misha said with a chuckle. To Misha's relief, his boyfriend laughed too. Then, Jensen relaxed back in the seat, and Misha was thrilled to feel Jensen's weight settle against him.

"I guess we'll have a night in Houston then," Jensen said after a moment.

"As long as it's not another no-tell motel."

Jensen didn't reply; instead, he grinned and snuggled into the most amazing man in his world.

............................................

The ride to Houston was a quiet affair. Jensen couldn't bring himself to converse, almost as though he had exhausted his word quota on Gordon. After a couple of failed attempts to get him to talk, Misha eventually gave up and turned on the radio. Jensen made sure to snuggle into the other man though, so Misha wouldn't think Jensen's mood had anything to do with him.

After awhile, Misha switched off the music. "Jensen?" he tried.

"Mm."

"I do have one question."

"Sure," Jensen said. He owed Misha far more than an answer for the scene at his parents'. Just remembering it brought heat to his face.

"Did you give your father the money?"

Jensen couldn't help the smirk that twitched at his lips. "I wrote a cheque," he said simply.

Misha took his eyes off the road for a moment to raise his eyebrow at the other man.

"I wrote two cheques, actually. One was to Gordon; the other was to mom for airfare. She's going to fly up for a visit in the next few months."

"That's great, Jense. But are you going to cancel the first cheque then?"

Jensen shook his head. "It's made out to Gordon Ackles, but I gave it to Mom. He can have the money. He's- well, Mom is family, and Mom's finances are tied to his. She wanted to know what it was for of course, so I said she would have to ask him. He'll have to explain to her why he needs the money. She'll figure everything else out from there."

Misha ruffled his hair with a chuckle, and Jensen leaned into the touch. He sobered though and said slowly, "I almost wish I didn't. This is going to hurt mom too."

"She has a right to know."

"Yah," Jensen shrugged. "I guess." His face was solemn though, and Misha was unable to get more than one-worded answers out of him for the rest of the drive.

...........................................

The night Misha and Jensen spent in Houston was low-key. The mood was light, but both were worn out after the events of the day. Following a quiet, yet not uncomfortable dinner, the two men headed back to their hotel room. Jensen went straight to bed, and Misha was content to read his book. There was nothing left to reflect on, but Jensen and Gordon's argument kept replaying through his mind. Eventually, he gave up on reading and sat on the room's balcony, looking out at the city lights.  

Jensen, who had accepted years of abuse from his father, had finally stood up to the man. All because of Misha. It hardly seemed believable. The realization made Misha warm with pleasure, but what made his face glow was what Jensen had said next. It was still so early in their relationship, and yet Jensen sounded certain of his words when he spoke about Misha. Misha had to force himself not to ask Jensen about that conversation during dinner. Somehow, he sensed that although Jensen would probably talk about it, the answers he gave would be short. Not at all the open conversation that Misha craved. Besides, there would be time enough for that discussion in the future. Because based on what Jensen had said, they potentially had a future.

Misha sighed, a happy sound. He stayed outside, enjoying his thoughts and the sounds of the city, until the warm night air threatened to lull him to sleep.

.........................................

When they landed in Vancouver, Jensen drove himself and Misha home from the airport. Though he had spent the entire flight trying to decide what to say to his boyfriend following the abysmal trip, he was still unsure of the right words. Finally, he pulled up in front of Misha's flat; he was out of time.

"Misha," Jensen started, once he had parked the car.

"Yah?"

Jensen took a breath. There were no perfect words, so he would have to do his best. "I'm so sorry."

Misha sighed. "Jens-"

"No really. I should've known the visit would go terribly. It was selfish of me to ask you to come."

Misha raised his eyebrows, then he actually laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said finally. "Asking for support was not selfish. I promise." He held up a hand to cut off Jensen's protest. "Besides, I'll force you to meet my family some day. That's when you'll pay me back. Several times over." Misha rolled his eyes fondly. "Which Russian invented a cure for the common cold?"

Jensen looked at his boyfriend, confused.

Misha grimaced. "Benylin Forchestikov."

Jensen winced.

"There are hundreds more where that came from. That's just one I couldn't block out."

Jensen laughed. "Then I will suffer through them. For you."

"Coming in?" Misha asked.

Jensen looked at his boyfriend, trying to read his expression. He desperately wanted to say "yes". No part of him wanted to be alone at the moment.

"Are you sure you don't want time to yourself?" Jensen asked finally. "It wasn't the most relaxing trip. I figured maybe you had seen enough of me."

"I had a wonderful few days with my boyfriend," Misha said with a smile. "And I can never imagine being sick of you. But I haven't seen my little boy for ages, and I really miss him."

Jensen blushed, but he was smiling, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation. He removed his keys from the ignition and passed them to Misha, already feeling as though driving was too adult. Before Misha could get out of the car, Jensen hugged him tightly and whispered, "you're amazing".

"So are you, Baby Boy. So are you."

Misha followed behind Jensen with a grin lighting his face. It was always nice to get home. It was a million times better when there was a baby boy to snuggle.

Chapter Text

Misha finished taping the diaper onto a pouting Jensen and bopped his boy playfully on the nose.

"Daddy," Jensen whined. "Got pull-ups here. I don't need a diaper."

"I know Baby," Misha said. "But you're going to bed soon, and you might as well be comfortable."

"Don't need to go to bed."

"I don't know," Misha said slowly, as though considering. "You're pretty whiney, Baby Boy, and you only get whiney when you're tired."

"Am not," Jensen glared.

Misha raised his eyebrow, and Jensen clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Misha couldn't help himself; he laughed aloud, completely ruining the stern daddy vibe that he was going for. The kid was just too cute. My kid. Misha beamed.

"Come on, Little Man. We can watch a movie before bed if you let me finish getting you ready right now."

"No diaper?"

"Yes diaper," Misha reply to the quiet question. He kept a smile on his face, but inwardly he was getting concerned. Jensen didn't usually come across as this young. Granted, the boy was refusing the baby treatment, but his words and his actions told a different story.

Jensen didn't try to help Misha dress him, but lay back on the bed and let his daddy put him in one of Misha's old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He also didn't object to Misha brushing his teeth or washing his face. Although Jensen would follow directions to lift his arms, open his mouth, spit, that was the extent of his participation. Misha's normally bubbly boy leaned against his daddy the whole time they were in the bathroom. It didn't make Misha's tasks any easier, but he didn't have the heart to order Jensen to sit up.

Misha comforted himself with the reminder that Jensen had been quiet the whole trip home. It only made sense that his mood would carry over into his little persona. Still, Misha hoped Jensen would snap out of it soon. Whether or not there was reason to be concerned, Misha would always worry about his little boy.

........................................................

Jensen lay stretched out on the couch with his head in Misha's lap. He tried to enjoy the feeling of Misha's hands running through his hair, but he felt restless. Even contrary. It wasn't a feeling Jensen was used to, and he didn't like it. He was stuck between wanting to pick a fight with his boyfriend and needing to be taken care of by his daddy. It sucked.

To take his mind off of the irritating feeling, Jensen tried to concentrate on the movie. Even the catchy songs in Hercules weren't enough to hold his attention though. What finally did break through his upset was the sudden need to pee. Jensen thought about getting up, but he remembered the diaper in which Misha had put him. The diaper he still resented. Well, if Misha was going to put him in a diaper... Jensen hesitated. It was a childish way of thinking, but clearly Misha thought he was a baby anyway. Jensen relaxed and let his aching bladder empty into the warm fabric that surrounded his crotch. The diaper puffed up around him. It felt like a hug.

Jensen relaxed into the diaper, the couch, and Misha, with a smug grin on his face. Hey, he was just going along with his daddy, right?

Jensen was pleased when Misha didn't immediately clue in and change him. The small act of defiance was petty, but it had made him feel infinitely better. With the urge to pick a fight gone, Jensen was able to get completely comfortable. The wet diaper around him filled Jensen with a different desire. He had never sucked his thumb, but in the moment it felt appropriate. As though without his conscious consent, Jensen's thumb drifted to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the digit and gave a tentative suck. And why had he never done that before? It was instantly soothing, and between the diaper, his thumb, and Misha stroking him gently, Jensen felt as though he was drifting on clouds. Soon after, his long lashes closed with a flutter.

........................................................

Misha looked down at his boy and was shocked when he saw Jensen with his thumb in his mouth. It was beyond adorable, something Misha had imagined many times. It was not Jensen though, and Misha again felt his stomach flip with concern.

The little boy's eyes were closed, and he was taking the slow, deep breaths of sleep. It was definitely time for bed.

"Jensen," Misha said softly.

Jensen grumbled, but he didn't make up.

"Jense," Misha tried again, this time giving his boy a gentle shake.

"Daddy?" Jensen asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, sleepy boy. Time for bed."

"Wanna finish the movie."

Misha laughed softly. "The movie's over buddy. You fell asleep."

"Didn't," Jensen said around his thumb. His eyes closed and almost immediately he was breathing heavily again.

It was times like that when Misha wished he could carry Jensen; instead, he cajoled and scolded until Jensen finally stood up from the couch and walked, zombie-like, into the bedroom. Jensen flopped down onto the bed, and Misha had to roll the boy over so that he could pull down the blankets for Jensen to get underneath them.

Misha had finally gotten Jensen tucked in, when he belatedly realized that he had forgotten an important question.

"Do you need the potty before bed?"

"Noh," Jensen mumbled, eyes closed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeh."

Misha shrugged inwardly. He normally would make Jensen try, especially since he seemed so little, but his boy was tired. Besides, that's what the diaper was for.

Misha pulled back the blankets on his own side of the bed and sank gratefully into the mattress. As soon as he had the covers tucked up around himself, he pulled Jensen close. It wasn't long before Misha was fast asleep.

........................................................

Jensen should have been blissfully comfortable in his daddy's arms. In fact, he would have been if he had asked for a diaper change. Even half-asleep though, Jensen was still feeling hard done by, and he didn't feel like filling his daddy in on his mess. Now though, Misha was deeply asleep alongside him, and Jensen desperately wanted to join him. The diaper had grown cold however, and Jensen was no longer enjoying the feeling. Besides the itchiness of stale urine, Jensen was also starting to experience that creeping shame and self-loathing that he had come to associate with wearing diapers. With Misha's help, Jensen was making enormous progress in that area, but consciously wetting the diaper still felt wrong. He didn't know how it was different than wetting his pull-ups. It just was.

Jensen squirmed unhappily again, feeling tears prick his eyes. He was too exhausted to deal with this. Too many emotions had been right below the surface of his mind for the past week. It was just too much. He needed to go to sleep, Jensen decided. Everything else, he could deal with in the morning.

As stealthily as he could, Jensen slipped out from under Misha's arm and got up from the bed. Misha rolled over in his sleep, but he didn't wake up. As soon as Jensen was sure his daddy hadn't been disturbed, he pulled down his sweatpants, untaped the diaper, and shoved the soiled garment under the bed. He could deal with it in the morning. Everything in the morning. Jensen stared at the floor for a moment, conflicted. Finally, his thumb found its way to his mouth though. With a renewed feeling of ease, Jensen slipped back into bed, curled up against Misha's back, and joined his daddy in sleep.

........................................................

Unfortunately, it wasn't Misha in Jensen's dreams. At least not initially.

With the inconsistency inherent of dreams, Jensen stood suddenly in his parents' house. The house from when he was a child. Again, he was in the guest room, facing his father. Gordon was tall though, or perhaps Jensen was stunted. Either way, the older man glared down at him. His father's face was full of contemptuous disgust. He was pointing at Jensen, as he had poked at Misha just a few days ago. Jensen followed the direction of his father's finger and realized, to his horror, that beneath his jeans was a classic bulge.

Jensen tried to stammer an apology, but no sound came out. He tried to run, but it was as though he had forgotten how. When he did finally manage to take a step, Jensen walked straight into another figure. Misha. Misha facing Gordon, and Gordon backhanding his daddy. Jensen knew he should do something, anything to stop the hateful words that spewed from his real father's mouth. But he couldn't. Just as Jensen had forgotten how to run, he was incapable of speaking. Somehow, Jensen knew it was different though. This time, he was frozen out of fear. Too afraid to get between the two older men, Jensen stood cowering behind them, watching.

Finally, Gordon noticed him, and his full attention switched from Misha to Jensen. Misha turned, following Gordon's gaze, and suddenly Misha stood beside his father, and both of the men were looming over Jensen. Gordon yelled about what a disappointment he was. Misha shouted that Jensen had put him in a horrible position, then not stood up for him. Both men wondered loudly how Jensen thought he was worthy of a relationship with either of them.

Then, part way through his rant, Gordon stopped, snorted with disgust, and elbowed Misha. Jensen's daddy followed Gordon's finger and started to laugh. It was an angry, derisive sound, and, terrified of what he would see, Jensen looked down. The bulge at his crotch was as obvious as before. It was not only that though; two rivulets of warm pee ran down his legs, soaking into his jeans and pooling beneath his socks.

........................................................

Jensen awoke, and he immediately wished he hadn't. Misha was persistent though, so Jensen could not pretend to sleep through the gentle shakes. He opened his eyes, met Misha's, and immediately felt the tears begin to run down his face.

"I'm so sorry," he stuttered.

"Shh," Misha said. "It was only a dream, Baby. You're just fine. You're safe."

Jensen accepted the comfort gratefully until he had an awful realization. Misha didn't know. It was all he could do not to moan. All Jensen had wanted was to sleep.

"Daddy," Jensen said between gulps for breath.

"What is it, Baby?"

"I wet the bed."

"Oh, Sweetheart," Misha said, he started to pull Jensen into a hug, but Jensen squirmed away. Misha sighed, and Jensen immediately felt worse. When would he ever stop putting his daddy through this stuff? Making things as difficult for Misha as possible?

"It'll take two seconds to change you," Misha said. "I don't care if you wet the diaper."

Jensen blushed. "I didn't," he said quietly.

Misha looked at his boy in confusion. Finally, it dawned on him though. He reached over to feel the area around Jensen, and sure enough, the sheets were warm and wet. They clung to his hand.

Jensen watched the change come over his daddy's face when Misha realized the bed was wet. The expression there twisted Jensen's heart. Disappointment. Jensen cried harder.

"Okay," Misha said soothingly in Jensen's ear. He had pulled his boy towards him, and this time, Jensen didn't resist. Even if Misha was mad at him, Jensen needed whatever comfort the man was willing to provide.

"It's okay," Misha continued.

"I-"

Misha shushed him with a finger to Jensen's lips. "You can explain in the morning. Right now, we're going to get you rinsed off and diapered." The look on Misha's face dared Jensen to protest. His intelligent little boy didn't say a word.

"Then, we're going to go to sleep in the other bed," Misha continued.

He reached up to brush the tears off of Jensen's cheeks. When Misha's palm rubbed against Jensen's skin though, he frowned. He put the back of his hand to his boy's face, feeling Jensen's forehead, cheeks and neck in quick succession.

"Oh Baby Boy, you're really warm."

Jensen shrugged listlessly. All he knew was he was tired, and wet, and very sorry.

Misha pulled his boy against him again, whispering comforts in Jensen's ear. If Jensen was sick, it would explain a lot. Mentally, Misha adjusted his plan for sorting out his boy. His own sleep shifted much further down the list. As Misha looked down at the miserable face staring up at him though, sleep became of no import. The wide eyes and small pout said many things, but most importantly to Misha, they whispered that he, Jensen's daddy, could fix anything.

Chapter Text

Misha settled on sticking Jensen in the shower so he could get himself and his boy back to sleep as quickly as possible. Poor Jensen looked at his daddy miserably when Misha told him he had to get out of bed. While Jensen’s sad face always went directly to Misha’s heart, Misha reminded himself that he would be a terrible caregiver if he let Jensen stay in urine-soaked clothes all night. Even still, it was a relief when Jensen was finished washing up, and Misha could wrap him in a clean diaper and blankets.

The sleep Misha had been looking forward to was a lost cause. Jensen dozed off quickly, but he tossed and turned, never managing restfulness. A few more times through the night, Jensen woke up from nightmares, sweating and gasping for breath. After one of these times, he curled up against Misha despondently and latched onto his daddy. The comforting cuddles didn’t last long though before Jensen was anxiously kicking the blankets off and trying to find a cool spot on the bed.

Finally, Misha had watched Jensen go from hot to cold and back again enough times. His boy had settled for shivering violently without blankets, preferring that to being hot. Misha reached over and gently cupped Jensen’s flushed cheek, then felt his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch, and the fever had to be contributing to Jensen’s misery.

Misha tried to get out of bed quietly, but a small voice told him he had failed.

“Misha?” Jensen asked. “Please don’t go. I promise I’ll lie in one place.”

Jensen’s attempts to sound old and in control didn’t fool Misha for a moment. He sat back down on the bed and brushed Jensen’s hair off his sweaty forehead.

“I’ll be right back, Baby Boy.”

Jensen blushed, but he didn’t object to the nickname. “Promise?” he asked instead.

“Yah, Baby.”

Jensen let go of Misha’s arm, but he didn’t look happy as his eyes followed Misha out of the room. Misha jogged to his bedroom and quickly found something for Jensen’s fever. Enough was enough. Really, he should have offered something to Jensen earlier, but he had hoped his little boy would fall asleep and be unconscious for the worst of the bug.

Misha arrived back in the spare bedroom with the pill and a baby bottle of water. Jensen eyed the offerings dubiously. When Misha tried to give him the pill, Jensen clamped his mouth shut and shook his head desperately.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Misha said.

“Don’t feel good.”

“I know,” Misha said, trying to keep his voice free of exasperation. “That’s why you need to take this.”

Jensen finally nodded and opened his mouth so Misha could put the pill on his tongue and slip the bottle into his mouth. He sucked out enough water to swallow the pill, then lay back down. Try as he might, Misha could not get anymore liquid into the boy; finally, he decided it would be best to let Jensen be. He stroked Jensen’s back rhythmically and had almost put himself to sleep, when Jensen began to squirm.

“Daddy,” Jensen whispered finally.

“Yah?”

“Are you awake?”

Misha stifled a laugh. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t be well received. “Yes, Baby.”

“Don’t feel good.”

“I know, Sweetheart.”

It didn’t seem like the answer Jensen was looking for, but the little boy just curled up into a tighter ball and said nothing more. Only a few minutes later though, Jensen bolted upright with a moan and stumbled his way to the bathroom. With a sinking feeling, Misha realized what was going on and chased after his baby as quickly as possible. Misha got to the bathroom just in time to see Jensen get violently ill. At the same time, the pants-less boy’s diaper grew heavy and yellow-tinged.

“Da-“ Jensen’s whine was cut off when he got sick again.

“Shh,” Misha said. “It’s okay Baby. It’ll be over soon.” He rubbed Jensen’s back, feeling completely inadequate. Thankfully, Jensen’s face was still buried in the toilet, or else he would have seen Misha, wide-eyed, mouth “fucking Christ”. There was no worse feeling than having a miserable, shivering, sick Jensen and not being able to do anything about it.

Finally, Jensen finished throwing up. He let his cheek rest against the toilet seat, too exhausted to care. Misha left for a moment to wet a facecloth, and Jensen didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t seem to notice Misha was gone.

“Sit up for me Baby Boy,” Misha said when he got back.

“Nhh.”

“Yes. Sit up for Daddy so we can get you back into bed.”

“Staying here.”

Misha looked around the bathroom dubiously, but Jensen’s eyes were already closed and his mouth hung open, drooling onto the toilet seat. Gently, Misha propped up Jensen to wipe his face. Then, he stuck a towel beneath his boy's head, before laying Jensen back down. Jensen didn’t wake through the entire process.

“Jensen,” Misha said, shaking his shoulder slightly.

“Wha?”

“I need to change your diaper and get some pants on you.”

“Not wet.”

Misha sighed. “Yes, you are.”

“No pants. Hot”

“Jensen, Baby, you’re shivering.”

It took awhile, but Misha finally coaxed Jensen to lie down on the floor so that Misha could change his diaper. That Jensen was unperturbed by not knowing when he had peed himself was a testament to how awful he was feeling. Despite his constant shivering, Jensen was adamantly against wearing pants. Misha finally gave in. To compromise, he brought a blanket in and lay it over Jensen. The little boy snuggled into it sleepily, and it wasn’t long, before Jensen was sound asleep.

Misha sighed in relief. Jensen was finally getting some peace, and Misha was getting a break from feeling useless. What Misha really wanted was to stretch out with his boy, but Jensen already took up the whole floor in the tiny bathroom. Instead, with no sign of Jensen waking, Misha guiltily crawled back into bed. Hopefully Jensen would be better now that he had gotten sick once.

………………………………………………………

Jensen woke up with the knowledge that something wasn’t right. It was dark, but he wasn’t in bed. The surface beneath him was cold and hard. He could make out enough of his surroundings to figure out that he was neither in his own house nor in Misha’s bedroom. Not okay. Worst of all, his stomach was roiling and his head pounded unforgivingly.

“Mi-“. Fuck it. “Daddy,” Jensen called.

There was no response.

“Daddy,” Jensen shouted a little louder.

Oh, and there went his stomach. Desperately, Jensen felt around for a garbage can or bucket, but there was nothing. He had just enough time to lean over to the side and push back the blanket that covered him before he was sick on the floor. In the midst of throwing up, Jensen missed the pounding footsteps. He didn't notice Misha's presence until the older man switched on the lights. Jensen blinked in the sudden brightness and looked about him. When he saw the toilet only a few feet behind him, he moaned in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Daddy," Jensen mumbled.

Misha was having none of it though. He ignored Jensen's attempts to apologize and wiped down the boy's face. Next, he sat behind Jensen and held him up while he pressed the bottle of water into Jensen's hands.

"No, please," Jensen whined.

"You need to drink," Misha said sympathetically.

"'ll make me sick."

Misha frowned and felt Jensen's head again. "Do you want to try another pill?"

The horror on Jensen's face would have been comical if he didn't also look so miserable.

Misha sighed and gave the boy a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze his belly. It was going to be a long night.

Jensen felt infinitely better once he had been sick and was leaning against Misha's warm chest. Even though the discomfort in his stomach was building again, for the time at least, he felt almost back to normal.

"Will you come back to bed now?" Misha asked.

Jensen was so tempted to say yes, but his stomach was pitching, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he was back on the floor of the bathroom anyway.

"In a bit," he said instead.

"Going to be sick?" Misha asked.

Jensen shrugged, then nodded.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Jensen blushed. He started to nod again, but then thought about how tired Misha sounded. His daddy needed sleep too. "S'ok," he said finally.

"Jensen."

Jensen couldn't see Misha's face, but he didn't need to. The warning tone of his daddy's voice said that Misha didn't believe him for a second.

"Maybe," Jensen said softly.

Jensen felt Misha's mouth twitch against his cheek, but his daddy said nothing else, just gave him a gentle hug.

Jensen had finally started to doze off, so he almost missed it when Misha slipped a finger into the leg of his diaper to see if he was wet. As comfortable and as sleepy as he was, Jensen just ignored it, knowing Misha would find him dry anyway.

It was only a few moments later, when Jensen's stomach did an uncomfortable dip and he was forced to lurch to his knees and cling to the toilet again.

"Oh, Baby," he heard Misha say sadly before he was suddenly sick.

Throwing up was awful, but Jensen knew he would feel better afterwards. What was worse, was with the force of vomiting, Jensen also felt his diaper grow warm, and not in the way to which he was accustomed. Thankfully, his red face and terror-filled eyes could be attributed to getting sick. Jensen wriggled slightly. Surely he hadn't... but with another wave of sickness came another surge of warmth, and Jensen could no longer deny his fears. He whined from embarrassment and ickyness and shame, and as soon as he had a moment free of vomiting, Jensen pulled the blanket tightly around his waist. Misha apparently didn't notice, because he simply rubbed Jensen's back, doing his best to ease the terror that came with nausea.

Finally, Jensen's stomach felt better. His bum however, was hot and wet. At some point he had peed a bit too, and all Jensen could think was thank God Misha had checked his diaper before he had his accident. He would not have lived through the embarrassment of Misha finding out he had a true accident while he was awake. Especially not that kind of accident.

"Daddy?" Jensen said finally, too tired to try sounding old.

"Are you okay, Baby Boy?"

Jensen felt tears prick his eyes. No. He nodded though and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I think I'm ready to go back to bed."

"That's great," Misha said with a sleepy, relieved smile. "Let's go then."

Jensen scrambled for an excuse. "You go ahead. I just... I'm going to brush my teeth first."

Misha smiled, glad his boy was feeling better enough to want to freshen up. "Do you need help?"

"Yes" was on the tip of Jensen's lips, but he forced himself to say "no". It wasn't fair to ask Misha for help with that. Jensen didn't even want to deal with it himself, so what right did he have to ask Misha? At least Misha had insisted on the diaper. Jensen shuttered to think what would have happened otherwise.

"Okay," Misha said. "Why don't you get cleaned up in the other bathroom and I'll take care of the floor in here."

Jensen frowned. He had managed to forget about his earlier mess. Why had he not gone home that evening? Misha had to regret letting him stay over.

In the end, Jensen agreed though. At least cleaning would keep Misha occupied while he figured out how to deal with his dilemma. He clutched the blanket tightly around his waist and made his way to the other room, walking stiffly so that his diaper touched him as little as possible.

........................................................

Misha sighed with relief as soon as Jensen was gone. He allowed himself a moment to sit on the closed toilet seat, head in hands and eyes shut. Even more than feeling exhausted from lack of sleep, Misha was tired having nothing to offer Jensen but empty words.

"It's going to be okay," Misha said mockingly. Idiot. Obviously Jensen knew he wasn't going to die from a stomach bug. That didn't change how crappy he was feeling in the moment.

Misha sighed again, forcing himself to stand and begin cleaning the tiled floor. At least Jensen had stayed the night. It was awful to imagine his boy suffering alone, and Misha had no doubt that the other man would not have called him. Not until he was mostly better.

Once he was finished dealing with the floor, Misha debated whether or not to go looking for Jensen. He stood between his bed and the door. The former beckoned him invitingly, but Misha's nagging urge to check on Jensen finally won out. For all he knew, the kid could have fallen asleep in the other bathroom. It was definitely a possibility.

Decided, Misha went looking for Jensen. When he reached his room, no sound came from the ensuite bathroom. Misha pushed open the door, but he was not greeted by a sleeping Jensen as he had expected. Instead, Misha found his baby kneeling on the floor in an obviously dirty diaper and staring up at him in shock.

Misha recovered himself before Jensen did. Pushing aside the sympathy, compassion, and exasperation he felt, Misha settled on shushing Jensen before the apology he saw forming could be voiced. He rummaged in a bathroom drawer, found what he was looking for, then popped the pacifier into his surprised baby's mouth.

Misha felt his lips quirk in an unexpected smile. Christ Jensen was cute. And stubborn. So stubborn.

"We can go through the routine of you saying "sorry" and me telling you not to worry about it, tomorrow. Right now we both need sleep."

Misha laughed at the glare Jensen shot him. At least Jensen was feeling better enough to look indignant.

The moment didn't last though, and as soon as Misha forced Jensen to lie back, the little one's eyes filled with tears. Jensen started to reach for the pacifier, but Misha gently caught his hand and pushed it back to the ground.

"I know you didn't mean to, Baby. I'll tell you a secret though. I've changed a lot of dirty diapers for much less adorable boys." Misha ignored Jensen's questioning look and gathered the supplies he needed.

"Just close your eyes, and you'll be back in bed before you know it," Misha said, handing Jensen his stuffed toy.

Jensen did as he was told, and it turned out that Misha was right. Despite being out of practice, the older man made short work of the mess. Jensen even dozed off for a bit and woke to find Misha running fingers through his hair.

"Bedtime," Misha said with a soft smile.

Jensen let Misha pull him to his feet. He didn't take out the pacifier or set down his toy, but Jensen did take a moment to hug his daddy tightly. Too soon, a yawn forced its way past his lips, and Misha pulled away to lead him to bed.

With his Daddy stroking his hair and his tummy temporarily at peace, Jensen was able to drift off to sleep. Misha followed shortly behind him, blissfully content after finally being able to do something for his baby boy.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Jensen woke up and wished he hadn't. His stomach still gurgled uncomfortably and his head pounded. Compared to the day before though, he was stellar.

"Hey Jense," Misha said.

Jensen looked over at the man lying next to him, providing the comforting warmth in which he was basking. Misha's expression was the same as it had been for the past twenty-four hours, concerned. His greeting was tentative as it always was when he wasn't sure whether he was dealing with big Jensen or little. Jensen's reply would determine how the rest of the day went. He paused, unsure himself of how he was feeling. He wriggled in the diaper he had wet during the night and squinted at the pounding in his head.

"Hi Daddy."

Misha beamed. Even though neither choice would have been wrong, Jensen felt as though he had made the best one. Then again, Misha made him feel special every moment of every day, big or little.

"Feeling better?"

Jensen shrugged, and Misha spent the next few moments scratching Jensen's head. Those big green eyes were so hard to look at when they were sad. As much as Misha did his best to hide it, those eyes could get him to do nearly anything.

"How's the diaper?" Misha asked a few minutes later.

"Wet."

The reply was given with a slight whine, but no hint of a blush. Misha resisted the urge to smile and praise his boy. Drawing attention to how accepting Jensen was becoming of the diapers would doubtlessly make him self-conscious again. Instead, Misha just gave Jensen a slight squeeze.

"Let's get you changed then. Feeling up to getting out of bed or do you want me to bring the change pad to you?"

Jensen sat up and immediately the room began to spin. He lay back down and squeezed his eyes shut until the dizziness went away.

"Here please."

"Ok Baby Boy."

Being changed on the bed was a different experience. Jensen wasn't sure he would have liked it if the bed had been Misha's, where he wanted to spend time time with his boyfriend in the future. He had no attachment to the guest bed though, so the process was oddly comforting. It was nice not to have to go anywhere or worry about anything while he felt lousy. Jensen realized he had zoned out and the diaper change was over when Misha rubbed his belly.

"Do you want to try some breakfast?"

Jensen shook his head adamantly, and Misha frowned.

"Still not feeling good, are you Baby?" There was no answer from Jensen other than sad eyes. Misha disappeared for a moment, and when he returned he had a baby bottle with juice.

Jensen frowned at it, but Misha was firm. "If you're not going to eat anything then you at least have to drink something."

Even Jensen's best puppy dog eyes would not sway his daddy, so he curled into Misha and allowed himself to be fed from the bottle. It was slow going, just a few sips here and there. By the time the bottle was finished, Jensen's tummy wasn't happy, but he knew he wasn't going to be sick. That was improvement enough.

With all the juice in his stomach, Jensen felt the need to pee. Curled up against Misha with his eyes closed, there was no way Jensen was going to move. With little effort, his diaper grew warm. He thought about telling Misha, but he was comfortable, and he didn't feel like lying on his back to be changed again. Instead, Jensen ignored the squishy fabric encasing him and fell into peaceful sleep.

When Jensen woke up, Misha was smiling down at him.

"Hey Sleepyhead."

He put a hand to Jensen's forehead. "Well, you're cooler anyway."

Jensen wriggled in the cold, damp diaper. "Daddy?" he asked.

Misha may not have been a mind reader, but little Jensen was an open book. Even still, he played along, curious to see what Jensen would say.

"Mhm?"

"Kinda wet," Jensen said through half-closed eyes. He was already beginning to drift again.

Misha retrieved the diaper supplies from the bathroom and stripped off Jensen's pants. He raised his eyebrows at the yellowed disposable. "Kinda? You soaked this. Did you have a nightmare?"

Jensen blushed and turned his face into the pillow. That was all the confirmation Misha required. If Jensen wasn't going to say when his diaper was wet, Misha would have to start paying closer attention. He said nothing though, just stroked Jensen's hair until the boy looked at him again. Misha smiled. "My beautiful baby boy."

...................................................

Jensen was only partly aware of the day passing. He slept for most of it, only waking up when his daddy changed his diaper or forced him to drink something. It was a level of care that Jensen could never remember receiving, and had his body not felt so awful, he would have thought he was in Heaven.

The next morning, when Jensen woke up with Misha wrapped protectively around him, he was instantly aware that he felt much better. His stomach grumbled obnoxiously. God, was he hungry.

Jensen slipped out from beneath the blankets so as not to wake Misha. Once he was standing, he became painfully aware of both how dirty he felt and the diaper he wore. At least it was dry. Even being the only one awake, Jensen was sure his face was bright red. He walked to the washroom as quickly and as quietly as possible. The first thing he did was strip the diaper, then shower and brush his teeth. By the time he was changed into some borrowed clothes and had buried the evidence of his childishness in the trash, Jensen felt human again.

...................................................

Misha entered the kitchen while Jensen was wolfing a stack of waffles.

"You're feeling better then," Misha said with a smile.

He walked over to give Jensen a hug, which the other man returned tightly.

"Thanks, Misha," Jensen said between bites. "You're amazing. I'm so sorry you had to deal with me."

Misha frowned. "I never have to deal with you. It's always a pleasure Baby."

Jensen's face flickered at the name, but he didn't say anything. "There's coffee on," he said instead.

"Thanks."

Misha poured himself a cup, using it as time to think about his next words.

"Jensen?" he said finally.

"Mm," Jensen said, leaning back in his seat. All that remained of the carnage was a pool of maple syrup on his plate.

"Take it easy on the coffee, okay? And the food. You're still bouncing back. Too much too fast could be bad."

"Misha, I'm fine," Jensen said.

Misha watched as his boyfriend stood up from the table and grew momentarily pale. The younger man just smiled though.

"Where are you going?" Misha asked when he noticed Jensen's bag by the door.

Jensen laughed; it sounded forced. "Some of us have to work today, remember?"

"You could call in."

"Right, because I haven't taken too much time off already." Jensen sighed. "Sorry. I really am fine though."

"Sure," Misha said neutrally. "Can I grab a ride to the set? I need to pick up some things I left in my trailer."

Jensen eyed his boyfriend, but he had no reason to suspect Misha wasn't telling the truth. "Sure," he said finally.

Misha might have received a different answer had Jensen seen the bag Misha packed with medication and other supplies. It was painful for Misha to stand back and wait for the mistakes he knew were coming, but Jensen was stubborn. All Misha could do was watch and be prepared to help when doing so became acceptable. Such was the lot of daddies and partners.

...................................................

Jensen shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat. His car's leather interior was normally comfortable, but he had become used to the extra cushioning of the diaper, and boxers felt oddly thin. Wonderful.

He forced a smile on his face when Misha climbed in beside him. Part of him was glad for any chance to spend time with his boyfriend, but at that moment, Jensen could have used space. Now that he was more awake it was distressing to recall the last couple of days. He had been determined to make the awful trip up to Misha; instead, the guy had to clean up his shit. Jensen forced down a mortified groan. What was wrong with him? Just be goddam normal for once.

Jensen kept the smile plastered on his face. He knew he probably wasn't fooling Misha, but it kept the man from asking what was wrong at least. Somehow his daddy... boyfriend... whatever, knew everything. Like the fact that his stomach was cramping horribly. Or that he shouldn't have eaten so many waffles.

Jensen swallowed down the nausea and broadened his smile. "Wonder if Jared finally drove them all crazy while we were gone?"

Amazingly, Misha laughed and latched onto the topic. Jensen wanted to sigh in relief as the brunt of Misha's scrutiny was lifted. He could feel miserable in peace without having to pretend that going back to work had been a good idea.

They finally reached the studio, and Jensen parked. "You go ahead," he said. "Just need to check the trunk for something."

He walked behind the car and waited until Misha was gone before folding over slightly to relieve the worst of his stomach pain. Momentarily, Jensen thought of texting Misha - or even his daddy - but Misha had put up with enough trouble from him for a hundred years let alone two days. Besides, Jensen knew that as soon as he admitted to feeling off, Misha would have him home, wrapped in a diaper, and tucked into bed. It was not a horrible thought at all, but it should have been. Jensen was growing far too comfortable with those freaking diapers, and until he figured out how to fix that, Jensen was placing himself on a hiatus from the evilly alluring garments.

...................................................

Jensen was telling Jared about his and Misha's trip, or at least the Jensen-approved version, when they were called for their first scene.

"You still look pale, Man," Jared said. At Jensen's questioning look he added, "Misha mentioned you were sick."

Jensen scowled. Of course he had.

"Hey," Jared said, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Misha cares about you. Don't give the guy attitude when he's looking out for you."

"Never should have told you about us," Jensen grumbled.

"But you did. Now stop being a brat."

Jensen turned beet red, but before he could salvage his good name, he and Jared were being called again.

While the final touches were being arranged for the scene, Jensen was able to lean against "Bobby's" desk. It helped his stomach a bit. Eventually it was time to begin though, and he had to straighten.

He wiped his hand across his face, and it came away sweaty. Fuck it was hot in there. The lights were beaming down and Jared's face was swimming. Maybe Misha had been right about more fluids. And less coffee. And definitely no waffles.

It was the thought of waffles that did it. Jensen felt his stomach protest, and he dashed for the nearest bathroom.

"Jensen," he heard from several voices.

He kept running though. No way was he spewing on the set. It would just be one more thing to add to the horrible list of happenings that week.

Jensen reached the washroom and collapsed against a toilet. Sweat poured off him as he clung to the seat, waiting for the inevitable. Why couldn't he just feel better already? More importantly, why had he insisted on coming to work? Why wasn't he with his daddy, safe and cozy at home?

Then, Jensen heard the most wonderful sound in the world. Footsteps ran down the hall, and a moment later the door to the bathroom banged open.

"Daddy," Jensen said, his voice heavy with relief and need.

Misha didn't say anything. He didn't walk closer to comfort his boy.

"Daddy?" Jensen said more uncertainly. Was his daddy mad?

"Jensen?" The voice was not Misha's voice. It was however, painfully familiar.

Jensen turned, and impossibly, his face became even paler.

The door burst open again, and Misha ran into the room.

Jared looked from Misha to Jensen and back again. "I think he was looking for you," he said to Misha.

Jared walked out the door, and Jensen was sick.

Chapter Text

Jensen finally stopped throwing up, but he felt no better. Jared's face as he turned and left the room was frozen in his memory. To make matters worse, his crotch was a bit damp. Jensen would blame that on getting violently sick.

Misha handed Jensen some paper towel to wipe his face. Thankfully, Misha had not said anything. Jensen couldn't bear being told that everything was going to be alright, because it absolutely wasn't. Being little had alienated him from his family, and now it was going to make him lose his closest friend. And based on how much trouble he was causing Misha, who knew how long their relationship would last either? Thanks to being little, Jensen was hugging his workplace's toilet, wearing wet pants, and feeling incapable of fixing the mess he had caused. Grow the fuck up. It was his father's voice. And for once, Jensen thought Gordon was right. There were more important things in life than being little, and Jensen refused to lose anything more to the ridiculous desire.

"Well," Jensen said, climbing stiffly to his feet. "I think this is as good a reason as any to call it a day."

Misha eyed him uncertainly. "Are you okay? Jared-"

"I had a grand old social life before Jared, and I'll be just fine after him." The words were comforting, because as much as he had intended them sarcastically, Jensen knew them to be true. It gave him the strength for what he had to do next.

"I'm sorry for all of this, Misha. I think I owe you a few days off."

"From being your daddy?"

"From that. And from boyfriend duty."

Misha just stared.

"You've been amazing, and I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of how wonderful you are. We could both use a few days."

"Jensen, are you really okay?"

Jensen smiled at his boyfriend. The forced expression fooled neither of them. "I'm fine, Misha. Or at least I will be. I love you."

"I love you too."

Jensen left before Misha could figure out what else to say. He felt the other man's eyes follow him until the bathroom door swing shut. He checked his pants quickly, and finding no visible wet spot, he left the set. Jensen would text the director from his car. The list of people he did not want to see was a mile long and included everyone in the studio.

Jensen went home, took some medication, and allowed it to drag him into a restless sleep. The next morning he felt better physically; although, the anxiety over Jared was enough on its own to make him feel nauseous. Still not feeling up to dealing with work, Jensen called in sick for another day. He replied to Misha's worried texts with a short note to say he was 'fine', then drugged himself into sleep again. Thankfully, the next day was the weekend, and Jensen would have a few days to figure out what he was going to do.

.............................................

Misha rang the doorbell, something he had not needed to do at Jensen's house for quite awhile. It took two more tries before he heard stumbling steps drawing near. The door opened before him and revealed Jensen. Far from making him feel better, seeing his boyfriend made Misha more concerned. Jensen stared at him through half-lidded eyes and seemed to have trouble focusing. His hair was unwashed and his scruff looked at least a couple of days old.

"Misha," Jensen said finally. "Hi."

"Jense, it's 3:00 pm."

"It's Friday. No, Saturday. Saturday."

"Still. 3:00pm."

Jensen shrugged sleepily. "Gravol."

Misha frowned. "Are you still feeling sick?"

"No, can't sleep. Well, couldn't sleep."

They stood there, awkwardly on Misha's part, dazedly on Jensen's. The younger man made no movement aside so that Misha could enter, and finally Misha felt the silence had gone on long enough.

"So you're okay then?"

"Jus' fine."

"Okay..."

Misha hesitated, but Jensen didn't offer anything else. Finally, he said 'goodbye' and left. He would give Jensen a day to get his shit together and then it would be time to intervene.

Misha turned when he hit the bottom step. "Tomorrow," he said. "I want you to come by for dinner. I've had a long enough break from being your boyfriend." Not that I wanted one in the first place.

Jensen nodded, eyes half closed.

"Go back to bed," Misha said fondly. Jensen looked ready to pass out on his feet, and maybe a good sleep was all the man needed.

.............................................

Jensen sat at the bar. Originally, he and Jared had plans for that afternoon, but neither of them had contacted the other. In Jensen's mind, the ball was in Jared's court. Jensen was the one who had screwed up, and he would respect Jared's decision as to whether or not he wished to remain friends. So, Jensen sat at the bar, sipping his third beer, and killing time until he was supposed to meet Misha.

That, unfortunately, was another thing he did not want to do. Of course Jensen loved his boyfriend, but second to Jared, Misha was the last person he wanted to see. There was something about Misha that made the urge to be little near impossible to ignore, and for the foreseeable future, being little was not an option. Maybe forever.

And so, Jensen sat, and Jensen drank. The dread and nervousness to see Misha after how he had acted and how completely he had screwed up grew as the afternoon progressed. After all, it was not only his own secret that he had spilled. Misha had to be pissed that he had stupidly opened his big mouth. Finally, Jensen couldn't deal with the pressure anymore. Part of him knew it was imagined, but part of him was convinced there was a modicum of truth to the possibility that Misha would either want to yell at him or to comfort him via babying. Neither was okay.

Jensen picked up his phone and pulled up his texting conversation with Misha.

"Hey Mish," he typed. "Still not feeling great. Can we postpone?"

Jensen scrutinized it, checking for any alcohol-induced screw-ups. As far as he could tell, the spelling and content checked out. He sit "send", and almost immediately, he received a reply.

I thought you were feeling better? Is this about what happened with Jared? I can come by there instead. I miss you, and you're really starting to worry me, Jense.

Jensen read the message, and let his head flop down on his arms. Why did Misha have to be so wonderful? He tried to think of an appropriate response, but all Jensen wanted to do was confess the lie, apologize, and run over to his daddy's house. Or even better, have his daddy come get him. Jensen toyed with his phone, but finally decided against it. That was why he couldn't see Misha. He wasn't even in the same room as his boyfriend and his little side was clamoring. Christ.

"Want another?" the bartender asked, interrupting Jensen's reverie.

Jensen nodded and tossed over his credit card. "Just start me a tab."

.............................................

Two hours later, Jensen's phone buzzed. It was Misha. Shit.

He debated not answering, but even in his current state, he knew how pissed he would be if Misha did that to him.

"'Lo," he said when he finally answered.

"Jensen," Misha's voice was full of relief. "I got worried when you didn't respond."

Jensen held his phone away from his face and stared at the screen blearily. Three texts from Misha. Double shit.

"Sorry," he said. "I jus..." Jensen paused, unsure what to say.

"You just?"

Jensen shrugged.

"Jensen," Misha asked finally. "Are you drunk?"

Jensen grabbed his beer and took it outside to the patio. It was misting lightly, and it was damp enough that patrons had vacated its tables for the inside.

He ran his hand through his hair. "Maybe," he said finally.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Jensen couldn't stand it anymore. First his family, then Jared, now Misha. He was a pro at alienating people. "Can I-" Jensen paused to collect himself. "Can I come over?"

"I think that would be best," Misha said finally.

Jensen wanted to cry. Everything was screwed up. He rubbed his face and downed the rest of his beer with determination though. Once he called a cab and was on his way to Misha's, Jensen felt a bit more like his normal impaired self.

.............................................

Misha sat across from Jensen, waiting for his boyfriend to speak. He was pissed. God knew he had reason to be, but what really annoyed him was that after everything, Jensen still wasn't talking. He shifted, at the point of telling Jensen to leave until he was ready to have a conversation. Jensen must have sensed it though, because he tensed and finally started to speak.

"I'm sorry I lied. I just couldn't come."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't be little."

Misha sighed. "First, I'll never make you be little. Secondly, you should have just told me."

"I know you won't. It's me. I feel little right now anyway." Jensen paused. It is amazing what one will admit to while drunk. "I can't be little though."

"Why not?" Misha repeated.

"Because I'm done with it. Forever. And I didn't know how to tell you."

"Jense, I love you being little, and I would miss it if you weren't, but I would still want to be with you even if I didn't get to be your daddy."

"Promise?" Jensen said, his voice small. Then he shook his head violently. "See, this is what I mean. I can't even be around you without wanting it. You're a perfect daddy. It just... I just... I don't know." 

Misha hid his smile. "If you want to so badly then why don't you be little for the evening?"

"Because."

Misha raised his eyebrow. Jensen's drunk logic wasn't helpful.

"Because when I'm little I mess up everything. I threw away my family, then I lost Jared, and eventually you're going to get tired of being the adult."

"Oh Baby," Misha sighed. "Come here." He patted the couch seat beside him. Once Jensen had joined him, Misha put his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, and drew the man close. "Rachel, Dan, and your mom wish you would go home far more often. They miss you, and you know they would welcome you at anytime, so stop being dramatic."

Jensen looked up in shock, and Misha smiled at him.

"In all seriousness though, I will never get sick of little you. If I do though, I promise I will let you know that I need a break. Deal?"

"Deal," Jensen said.

Even through the alcohol, Jensen's voice had taken on a younger quality, and Misha knew he was on the right track.

"Most importantly," Misha said, "you haven't lost Jared."

"How would you know?" Jensen scowled.

"Have you even spoken to him?"

Jensen finally shook his head in defeat. "Doesn' matter though. His face. He hates me now."

Misha held his boy closer and rubbed his back.

"He would have to be an idiot to hate you, Baby, and Jared isn't stupid."

Jensen shrugged.

"Please talk to him."

"I can't," Jensen said.

"For me?"

Jensen paused, but for once he answered with a head shake, "no".

Misha looked surprised, and Jensen hurried to explain. "'s my fault," he said with a slight slur. "I'm leavin' it upta him if we're still brothers."

"You're both professional. I'm sure you can still work together," Misha said.

"Uh uh," Jensen said. "If we're still bestest friends, Daddy." Jensen clapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the words came out.

Misha just laughed and pulled Jensen's hands down from his face. There was no point in trying to fight nature.

They sat on the couch for awhile longer, before Jensen finally fixed Misha with a stare and said sincerely, "Sorry, Mish. For everything."

Misha nodded. "I know," he said. "But you have to start talking to me if we're going to work in the long-term. I can't keep having to brute force my way into your head."

Jensen nodded.

"And no more lying."

Jensen nodded again.

"And stop fighting who you are."

Jensen hesitated.

"Jense, you have a successful career doing what you enjoy, friends who care about you, and a boyfriend who loves you, all from being yourself. Other people have done worse."

"I know," Jensen said softly. After all, Misha was right. It would be ungrateful not to acknowledge how lucky he was.

"I'll try," Jensen said finally. It was the best he could say with honesty, but still, Misha's face clouded a bit. Jensen yearned to bring back the smile, and there was only one way his scrambled brain could think to.

Jensen stood. "I need water," he said in answer to Misha's questioning look.

Jensen walked out to the hallway, away from the couch and carpets. Then, he relaxed what he had been holding back for the past half hour. Warm pee soaked his front before running down the insides of the legs of his jeans. He shuddered. It felt so wrong, but also so comfortingly right.

As soon as he was finished, Jensen stepped around the puddle at his feet.

"Daddy," he called, running back to the sitting room.

Misha looked surprised at hearing the name, but he recovered quickly. "What is it, Baby Boy?"

Jensen blushed brightly. He stepped around the couch so that his soaked pants were visible. "Had an accident," he whispered.

Jensen was not disappointed. Within moments, Misha was beside him, hugging him tightly.

"That's my fault, Baby. I should have put you in a diaper right away."

"Pull-up?" Jensen said, looking at Misha with hopeful eyes.

Misha smiled. "Pull-ups are for boys who only sometimes have accidents. I think tonight we should put you in a diaper."

Jensen sighed, but he didn't argue.

Hand-in-hand, Jensen and his daddy went to get him cleaned up.

.............................................

Misha lay next to Jensen, listening to soft snores and the occasional crinkling of the diaper when his boy shifted.

Together, he and Jensen had cleaned up the accident. Despite Jensen's earlier insistence that he would never be little again, the boy had sunk into the role easily, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Misha could understand. To him, that was how it felt being Jensen's daddy.

In the dark, Misha rolled his eyes. Nothing with Jensen was ever done halfway. The man could swear off littleness one moment, then stand there in wet pants and proclaim to have had an "accident" the next.

That was why Misha knew Jensen and Jared would have trouble working things out. Jensen was unendingly stubborn, and if he had decided it was not his place to approach Jared, then he wouldn't. Jared would usually have gone to Jensen to sort things, Misha was certain; however, Misha also knew that Jared had to be in a state of confused shock.

And so, Misha thought wryly, that left himself. If Jensen was going to be pigheaded and Jared was going to be close-minded then he would have to take things into his own hands. The next day, before Misha had to work with the two men again, he would talk to Jared.

On the nightstand, Misha's phone buzzed.

Sounds good, the text from Jared read.

Whether it sounded good to Jared or not didn't matter. The man had agreed to meet Misha for a beer.

.............................................

After Misha had changed Jensen's diaper that morning and spent the afternoon playing with his boy, he sent Jensen home for the evening.

"Errands," Misha explained.

"But you're still coming over later?"

Misha smiled at Jensen's worried frown. "You bet," he promised.

Jensen smiled at the reassurance and took a taxi home. He didn't ask Misha to remove the diaper.

A couple of hours later, Misha was sitting across a table from Jared at Jared and Jensen's favourite bar. The small talk had been painfully uncomfortable, with the reason for their meeting hanging over both of them. As soon as the waitress brought their drinks, Misha was ready to break the heavy silence.

"You must have questions," Misha said.

"No, it's everyday that I find out my best friend calls his boyfriend 'Daddy'."

Misha shrugged. "Okay, then." He took a sip from his drink. Misha didn't have to wait long for Jared to continue.

"What I really want to know," Jared said, voice rising, "is why it's you here instead of Jensen."

Misha shrugged. "Jensen can imagine the shock you must be feeling, but he can't relate to it."

"And you can?"

"Well, I didn't just grow up with an innate knowledge that this existed. My first preschool 'kiss' behind the swing set didn't start with the boy calling me 'Daddy'."

Jared winced. "Okay, I get it. What did you want to talk to me about then? How I should just go on like everything is normal with me and Jensen? How I shouldn't judge it until I try it?"

Misha laughed, earning a scowl from his coworker.

"Absolutely not," Misha said finally. "Asking you to call someone 'Daddy' would be like asking me to be six-foot four."

"So how are you going to change my mind?"

Misha shrugged. "I probably won't. I thought I would tell you about how I got into it though. How I first became-"

"Don't say it," Jared said.

"-a watermelon?"

Jared rolled his eyes.

"Well," Misha asked pointedly. "Is there a euphemism you want me to use?"

Jared didn't have an answer.

"Didn't think so."

Misha signaled to the waitress, and she came over.

"Another for each of us please. On my bill."

Once she had left, Misha sat back in his chair with one leg crossed and his beer balanced on his knee. "Well," he said. "You, Jared Padalecki, are about to be privy to information few have heard. This story I call, 'How I, Misha Collins, Became a Watermelon'."

Jared grimaced. "Forget the fruit."

Misha grinned. "Fine. This is the tale then, of how I became a daddy."

Chapter Text

"This is a tale of love lost and love found again."

"Misha-"

"It is a story of jealousy, betrayal, and revenge."

"Misha-"

"Of daring exploits and-"

"Mish-"

"Fine," Misha sighed with mock disappointment. "Most of that was a lie anyway."

"The real story then?"

Misha shrugged. "I was helping Jonathan move."

"Who?"

"Jared, let me tell it."

"I wish you would," Jared countered.

"Jon was my first serious relationship. We had finally decided to live together after being a couple for two years. Come to think of it, none of my experiences of living with partners have gone smoothly, but that's a story for another time. Anyway, I was helping Jon move into my apartment, when I dropped a box. On the outside, it was ordinary, cardboard, innocuous, but inside -"

Misha held his hands up in mock defensiveness against Jared's glare. "You really are trying to take all the fun out of this."

"Please Misha," Jared said, letting his fatigue show.

Misha nodded. "Alright. It was an ordinary box though. I tripped on the stairs, went flying, and so did the contents of Jon's box. Inside was a pack of diapers, and since I knew my boyfriend was not incontinent, I obviously had some questions."

"Do you mean Jensen-"

Misha raised an eyebrow; Jensen would have called it a "daddy look". "I thought you wanted me to tell the story."

Jared nodded, but his face was troubled.

"Alright. I didn't ask Jon about it that day; I didn't know how. Eventually though, curiosity won out, and I had to. Of course I hopped he would say he had an elderly grandparent come for a visit at some point, but no." Misha sighed. "No regrets now, but at the time, Jon really threw me for a loop."

"So they were his then."

"Mhm."

"What did you do?" Jared asked, finally beginning to seem curious.

"I did what any good boyfriend would do. I freaked out," Misha said with a smile. "Well actually, first, I listened to his reasoning. Jon said he liked diapers because they gave him comfort. He felt safe and secure in them. Since that kitty was out of the bag, Jon also told me his previous boyfriend had acted as his daddy. He offered to give me some websites to visit where I could get answers to any questions I had."

Jared gestured with his chin, and Misha took the hint. Once the waitress had checked in on them and left, Misha and Jared allowed the din of the room to wash over them again.

"So, were the sites helpful?" Jared asked finally.

Misha shook his head. "I didn't ask for them. I was completely shocked, and I like to think I'm open-minded, so I told myself I was okay with it. I told him that too. You can imagine how well that worked out."

"Smashingly, I would imagine."

Misha grinned to see Jared lightening up a bit.

"Just so," Misha responded, echoing Jared's joking tone. "Actually, it hung over us for the next few months. Tension built until finally I came home one night, and Jon was packing. He broke down and told me he thought he could live without his source of comfort because he had me. With the stress between us he couldn't do it anymore though. To be honest, I think he would have come to the same conclusion whether we were fine or not. It was as necessary for him as my cinnamon toast crunch is for me."

Misha paused to drink his beer. He waited to see if Jared would interrupt, but the younger man was silent. Encouraged, Misha continued.

"Well, Jon meant everything to me, and I hated to see him like that. I made him tell me where he kept his supplies-"

Jared frowned in confusion.

"-pacifiers, diapers, uhh stuffed toys... don't worry about it. Basically, I had no idea what I was doing, so I winged it. I did what I would do for my niece when I babysat. I gave him a bottle, put him to bed, and cuddled him for a bit."

"And you became a 'daddy'," Jared said, using air quotes.

"Actually, I was so freaking uncomfortable I said I would never do it again. To myself. Not to him."

"So what happened?" Jared asked.

"Welp, when Jon woke up the next morning, it was the happiest I had seen him in months. He was so affectionate, he made jokes again, and he actually seemed excited to get home from work in the evening. When he got up the courage to ask me to do it again, I couldn't say "no". So, I scened with him every few weeks. It was awkward for me at first. Uncomfortable, a bit of a turn-off even. Eventually though, when I got used to it and stopped letting my preconceptions get in the way, I came to like it too. By the time he slipped up one day and called me "Daddy," I felt like I had never been complete until that moment. That word was more meaningful to me than when Jon had first said he loved me."

Misha paused, eyeing the man before him. "Look, I can tell you're skeptical. I'm sure it seems weird. That's fine, but try to understand the amount of trust that goes into that single word. It was Jon saying that not only did he love me, but he was willing to put his health, safety, and happiness in my hands. It is surrendering all control, and I myself, would never be brave enough to do that."

Jared was still frowning, but he nodded. Inwardly, Misha sighed with relief. It was progress.

"So what happened to you guys then?"

Misha shrugged. "We broke up."

Jared just stared, and Misha laughed.

"What, you were expecting an epic tragedy? I did try to give the story some flare, but you wouldn't let me. If you want I can spice it up... Two weeks later we found out that Jon had a terminal disease and had 48 hours to live. We spent that time in passionate-"

Jared rolled his eyes.

Misha chuckled again. "People break up, even ones who are good together. We had different opinions on whether or not we wanted marriage and children. It was something we should have discussed earlier on, but we were both young and were not thinking that far ahead yet."

"At least that story is believable."

Misha sighed. "It lacks poetry though."

Jared smiled and waved over their waitress. "I'll forgive you," he told Misha. Then turning to their server, Jared added, "This time it's on me."

Once they were alone again, Jared gestured for Misha to continue. "So you and Jon split..."

"Yupp," said Misha.

"But you kept up the... daddy... thing."

"Yupp."

"Why?"

"Well," Misha said slowly, considering his words carefully. "I started going out with a guy I really liked, one who wasn't into any of that. It wasn't long before I realized how much I missed my old relationship. Not Jon himself, but what we had. I found myself doing little things to take care of Rick. He was very independent, and I guess he found it stifling. As you'd probably guess, we didn't last long. It made me realize though, that I wouldn't be content anymore unless I had not only a boyfriend, but someone to take care of. A guy who would look at me like I could fix anything, who trusted me implicitly, who needed me in a way I had never experienced before Jonathon. It became as much a comfort to me as it had been to Jon. So, I had no desire to look Jon up again, but I didn't look for a boyfriend who was not into the same thing as me after that."

Jared sighed. "So how did you and Jensen find out about each other?"

Misha shook his head, finally serious. "That is something you have to ask Jensen. It's his secret as much as mine."

Misha eyed Jared. The younger man almost looked disappointed, although whether it was because he genuinely cared or because his curiosity had gone unsatisfied, Misha couldn't be sure.

"I can tell you this though," Misha said finally. "Jensen is unlike anyone I have ever met. He has been through so much, and he still has this wide-eyed innocence... as well as a truly evil sense of humour. He takes care of everyone else, while ignoring his own needs. The moments I spend with him are more meaningful than any I have experienced before. I think-"

"You think?"

Misha sighed. "I think if we don't work out, I will never be able to have anyone else call me da- that. It wouldn't be the same. He's-"

Jared waited patiently for Misha to take a deep breath and a drink from his beer.

"He's incredible Jared, as an adult and as my boy. In both cases he makes me feel special, and he makes me believe I can be better than I am. I can't imagine life without him anymore. I don't mean that I don't want to imagine it; I actually can't."

Jared looked down at the stein in his hands. He didn't meet Misha's eyes for a long time. By the time he did look up, Misha's face was red with embarrassment, although the older man did not look apologetic.

Jared sighed. "I wish I could say I get it."

"But you don't."

Jared shook his head. "I'm happy for you both. Happy that you're happy, I mean. And if you ever hurt Jensen I will find you."

Misha nodded seriously, not doubting Jared's words.

Jared ran his fingers through his hair in aggravation. "I wish," he said suddenly, then paused. He sighed again and sat back in his chair, twirling the beer mug between his huge hands. "I wish I never walked into that bathroom."

"Jared-"

"Because now I know, and I can't forget it. I want to, but I can't. Jensen is my best friend, and you're right about him being a great person. And if there is something that makes him happy, I'm glad. I just can't look at either of you the same way though."

Jared looked at Misha, and his eyes were almost desperate. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"I know," Misha said.

"That doesn't help anything though, does it?"

Misha sighed. "Not really, but wanting to understand is better than nothing."

"Thank you for telling me that. Now I need time to think."

Misha watched as Jared drained his beer and dropped two 20's on the table. He pushed his chair back and began to walk away.

"Jared," Misha called, causing the other man to turn. "He's not hurting anyone. That's something that a lot of people can't say."

Jared considered Misha's words, and nodded once. Then, he continued to walk away.

Misha followed the tall man's head through the crowded room and out the pub door. He swirled the last of the beer in his mug, watching the suds stick to the sides.

"Fuck," Misha said softly, and he emptied his glass.

Chapter Text

The taxi pulled up to Jensen's house, and Misha prepared himself to meet his boyfriend or his boy. In either case, Misha was glad he had not told Jensen he was meeting Jared. Having to explain that Jared still wasn't ready to see him would have been heartbreaking.

As it was, Misha still felt overwhelmed by guilt when he was greeted by Jensen and asked how his errands went. He was well aware of the hypocrisy when he told Jensen that the errands were fine, lying as he always told his little boy not to do.

Jensen didn't seem particularly interested anyway. It was obvious from his eyes and the lack of bounce in his step that his enthusiasm was forced. He was genuinely pleased to see Misha though, and it warmed Misha’s heart when Jensen said, “Daddy?” The voice was small, tentative, ready for Misha to reject the role. If anything, Misha needed little Jensen that moment as much or more than Jensen needed to be small. Speaking about their relationship to Jared had made him crave the time they spent together.

"Yah, Baby Boy," Misha said.

Jensen grinned. "Movie?" he asked.

"Sure Buddy." A movie translated to cuddling, and that was what Misha really wanted.

Jensen began to bounce to the TV room, but Misha called after him, halting him in his tracks.

"First, how's the diaper?"

Jensen didn't turn around, but Misha could sense the blush from the set of his shoulders.

"Pull-up," Jensen said.

"What happened to the diaper?"

"Got wet."

Misha choked back a laugh at the new expression for "accident". "How's the pull-up then?" he asked instead.

Jensen sighed. "Dry, Daddy."

"Okay, okay," Misha said. He ruffled Jensen's hair, then led his boy to the TV. "What movie do you want?"

Jensen thought for a moment. "Aladdin."

"Jense, you just watched that a week ago."

"Aladdin," Jensen said firmly.

This time Misha didn't hide his laugh, and Jensen scowled at him. He was smiling again though by the time Misha had put the DVD in and joined him on the couch. Misha curled himself around his little boy, loving the feel of the warm body and padded backside. Whenever he took a breath, the fresh smell of Jensen's shampoo filled his nose. It was Heaven.

.......................................................

Jensen was almost asleep when he heard Misha's phone buzz and felt his daddy shift beneath him.

"Hello," Misha said quietly.

Jensen couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but he didn't need to. Misha suddenly tensed beneath him and said with shock, "Raph?".

Jensen shot Misha a look, instantly pulled from his little mind.

Misha ruffled his hair, but the moment was gone. Just like that, Jensen was uncomfortable with the fact that he had been about to wet the pull-up and that "A Whole New World," was playing in the background. He got up to use the washroom properly, which would also give Misha time to deal with the phone call.

By the time Jensen got back, Misha was off the phone. He still looked troubled though, and Jensen almost didn't want an explanation.

"That was Raphael, my ex," Misha said.

"So I gathered."

Misha shot Jensen a look at the obvious switch from little to big. Jensen ignored the stare though. How could Misha expect him to keep his little mindset after dropping a bomb like that?

"So what was he calling about?" Jensen prompted, carefully keeping the animosity from his voice. My daddy, not Raph's, was on the tip of his tongue, but he forced himself to say nothing.

Misha hesitated, and Jensen's stomach sank. By the time Misha answered, Jensen was fighting the urge to jump off the couch and start pacing to relieve his tension.

"He's in town for a few days," Misha said finally. "He wants to meet up."

"Oh."

"I don't have to-"

"No, no," Jensen said quickly. "If you want to, you should go."

Misha hesitated again. "We don't work as a couple anymore, but we were friends before we started dating. I still care for him in that sense."

"Yah," Jensen assured him. "Of course." Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.

"So," Misha said, drawing the word out, still unsure of what he should say next. "I'll text him then?"

"Yah," Jensen said. "I'm not gonna tell you not to."

"Right."

When Jensen didn't say anything else, Misha began to type a message to Raphael.

"I'll tell him tomorrow when you're working, and I'm not. That way it won't cut into our evening together."

"Sure." Jensen's stomach sank. That meant he would be alone in facing Jared. Misha's intentions were good though, so Jensen swallowed his nerves and forced a smile.

"You'll let me know how it goes?"

"Of course," Misha said.

"Great."

They sat there for a moment, neither certain of what to say. Finally Jensen stretched his arms overhead and faked a yawn.

"Well," Jensen said. "I guess I should go to bed. Some people actually have to work tomorrow."

Misha chuckled, but his laugh was as forced as Jensen's teasing. Jensen debated inviting Misha to spend the night, but there was a wall between them. Even though Misha was only a foot away, Jensen felt alone. No amount of cuddling would change that. It wasn't a physical separation; it was the separation of hidden emotions and unvoiced thoughts. At least if Misha was gone, Jensen could pretend that he was simply missing the other man's presence.

Misha stood and walked to the front door. After a moment Jensen followed. He leaned against the wall, arms and legs crossed, until Misha finished getting his shoes on. It wasn't until Misha gestured that Jensen unglued himself from the wall and went to give his boyfriend a kiss goodbye.

Jensen watched as Misha walked down his steps.

"I love you," Jensen called out on impulse.

Misha turned and grinned warmly, "I love you too."

The horrible emptiness in Jensen's stomach was partially relieved, and he smiled sincerely. He and Misha were solid, and Misha had said that a relationship with Raph was not a consideration. Jensen's smile became a grin. They were going to be fine.

.......................................................

Unfortunately, the relief that rationality provides rarely lasts. It took Jensen hours to fall asleep that night. The number of reasons that Misha might choose Raph over him circled through his mind, and the more he considered them, the more reasonable they became. Nevermind that Jensen had no idea of why Raphael wanted to see Misha, and forget that Misha had no interest in renewing the past relationship. By morning, Jensen was certain Raphael and Misha would fly off into the sunset together that evening. On a carpet. Misha was right; Jensen did need to cut back on watching Aladdin.

The one bright side of worrying about Misha and Raph was that Jensen was less nervous about seeing Jared than he expected to be. Still, once Jensen parked his car and made it to the set, late of course, his mind was racing with possibilities for how their first meeting would go.

As he sat through make-up, Jensen ran possible scenarios in his mind.

"Hey Jared, so I like to call my boyfriend, 'Daddy'. Do with that what you will." Just no.

Fake amnesia? "Hey Jared, how about that weather?".

"Hey Jared, Jim drove his car today. Wanna let the air out of his tires?" Common passions, remind Jared of why they were friends.

"Hey Jared, if you could be any type of transportation, what would you be?" Ask the important questions. Distract him from thinking about why you're being awkward.

"Hey Ja-"

Jensen's reverie was interrupted when he was called to the set. His first scene of the day was with Jared. Crap.

Jensen left make-up, and all too soon he was on set. He was drawing closer to Jared, who was talking to Jim and hadn't seen him yet. There was still the possibility of escape. He did a 180, but from behind him he heard Jim call his name. Double crap. Ok Jensen. Just be smooth. Walk in like you own the place.

"Hey," Jensen said when he reached Jared and Jim.

Jim replied with a friendly "hello", but Jared's greeting was harder to read, perhaps because Jensen had yet to look at his costar. Finally, Jensen couldn't put off meeting Jared's gaze any longer. Jensen gathered his courage and turned from Jim to face Jared. One look at Jared, and Jensen panicked.

"How much does a polar bear weigh?"

Jim looked at Jensen like he had gone insane. "Ok," he sighed. "I'll bite, even though I know I'll regret it. How much?"

"Enough to break the ice."

Jim winced, but Jensen's gaze was drawn to Jared, who raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a stare almost akin to Misha's daddy look.

For fuck sake. Super goddam smooth."

"Where are you going?" Jim asked.

"Forgot something in my trailer," Jensen said. He had hardly realized he was walking, feet moving of their own accord to get his body to safety.

"We're starting now. Don't go anywhere." Jared's voice was even, neither friendly nor annoyed. Jensen didn't have a chance to analyze it, because then they were called to begin filming.

.......................................................

Jared couldn't help but lift a brow when Jensen messed up his lines again. Sure, they all made mistakes, but Jensen had more than used his share for that particular scene. The director was getting frustrated, the camera men were growing bored, and Jared could practically see the smoke rising out of Jim's ears.

"Easy boy," Jared said, placing a hand on Jim's shoulder. He earned a glare for his efforts.

The director called for them to start again. Jared breathed a sigh of relief when Jensen got through the part he had been having trouble with all morning. The celebration was premature though, because only a page of the script later, Jensen stuttered over his lines, put his face in his hands, and growled, "for fuck sake".

The director called "cut" and decided a break would be more productive than continuing. Jared sighed. He really should have talked to Jensen beforehand; the tension between them was obviously getting to his coworker. Jared still didn't know what to say however, because he still didn't know how he felt. He was out of time to figure it out though. If they were going to make any progress with the scene that day, Jared and Jensen had to talk.

Jared approached Jensen's trailer with trepidation. It was not a feeling he usually associated with knocking on Jensen's door, and Jared hated it. What would he do if he couldn't get past Jensen's "interest"? Work would never be the same. He would need a new way to spend Friday night... a lot of his free time, actually.

Jared pushed away the intrusive thoughts just in time for Jensen to open the door. They stood looking at each other, until Jensen finally stepped aside. Without a word, Jared climbed the trailer's stairs. It was a start. Jared didn't know where it would lead, but as with any beginning, possibilities stretched before him.

.......................................................

"I-" Jared said at the same time that Jensen said, "Hey Jared."

Jensen coloured. "You go. I'm not sure where I was going with that."

"Look," Jared said. "I'm not sure how I feel about the other day, but I still want us to be able to work together."

"Yah," Jensen said, "of course."

Jared frowned. His friend's expression was too level. It was one hundred percent an "upset Jensen" face. He wouldn't lie to Jensen though. Jared wouldn't say they were fine until he was certain of it.

"I know what you're thinking," Jensen said finally, with a sigh. "I didn't expect you to come running over this morning to say that everything between us is good. We can work together, and I won't push you for anything else. Thanks for stopping by."

Jared nodded and stood. Something niggled at him though, and he turned back in time to catch an expression that Jensen quickly hid.

"Is everything else alright?" Jared asked.

"Of course."

"Not between us. In general."

Jensen sighed. "I'm fine, man."

Jared hesitated, but he followed his suspicions. Sitting down, he fixed Jensen with a stare and ruthlessly forced back his own embarrassment. "Is everything okay with you and Misha?"

Jensen turned as red as Jared wanted to. "Yah, we're good. I mean, it's Misha, and so, yah..."

Normally Jared would have laughed at his generally eloquent friend struggling for words. This time he shook his head. "That's convincing."

Jensen sighed. "Misha's ex is in town. He texted Misha to meet up with him."

"What?" Jared asked. "What the hell?"

"It's no big deal."

"It's not fair to you," Jared argued.

"It is. Misha said he didn't have to go. I told him it was fine."

Jared shook his head again. "Of course you did," he said with a small smile. "So when are they seeing each other? What are they doing?"

"Today," Jensen said. "And I don't know. I didn't ask."

"What did Misha's ex want?"

"Didn't ask."

"Of course you didn't. How long is he here for?"

"Not sure. I-"

"Didn't ask," Jared said.

Jensen and Jared looked at each other. It was hard to say who started first, but soon both were laughing. Once Jensen started he couldn't stop. Tears were streaming down his face by the time he finally managed to gasp for breath.

"Rachel and the rest of make-up are going to hate you," Jared said.

"This is on you, man. By the way, Jim drove to work today."

Jared grinned. "I thought he knew better by now. He got a ride the last few weeks."

"Think we have time?"

Jared glanced at Sam's watch. "Just enough."

As Jared followed his friend out of the trailer and to the parking lot, he couldn't help but smile. It was only in part due to imagining Jim's reaction when the man saw his car. The rest was a response to the grin he could pick out on Jensen's face, wide enough to be seen from the side. Some things... some friendships... were right, and Jared knew better than to overthink them.

Chapter Text

The rest of Jensen and Jared's work day was smoother, at least as far as filming went. Despite still being worried about Misha and Raph, things with Jared were noticeably more comfortable, and Jensen felt every grin between them as a balm for his nerves. During a break, this time not for Jensen's sake, Jared approached him and offered a bottle of water. Even if he wasn't thirsty, Jensen would have taken it gratefully, recognizing it for the peace offering it was.

"So," Jared said, taking a seat beside his friend. "Any word from Misha?"

Jensen shrugged. "Thought about texting him, but I don't want him to feel like I'm checking in."

Jared rolled his eyes. "Gimme," he said, holding his hand out.

Reluctantly, Jensen passed over his phone. It was incredible how he could both trust Jared with his life and not believe for a minute that his dignity was safe with the younger man.

Jared typed out something, angling the phone so Jensen couldn't see. Seconds later, Jensen's cell vibrated. Jared glanced at the screen, grinned, and tossed the phone back to Jensen. Jensen caught it easily and read the message. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Misha had responded immediately to Jared's, "hey".

Hey Jense,
I'm glad you texted. It was strange not having you here last night and this morning. I missed you. How is work going?

When Jensen looked up, Jared was still smiling widely. "See?"

Jensen was saved from admitting that Jared might possibly have been right when they were called back to set. He typed a quick response to Misha, then ran to join his costars. Nothing had changed, but with that one message, he felt infinitely lighter.

...........................................

Misha rubbed his hands together nervously. What was it that drew him to men who were always late? In his pocket, his phone buzzed, and Misha nearly jumped out of his seat. He smiled when he saw who it was though.

Hey, said the message from Jensen.

Misha breathed a sigh of relief. He had sorely missed waking up next to a warm body. A warm body that curled into him lovingly. It was wonderful how one word could break through the awkwardness he had been feeling towards his boyfriend since the evening before. He typed out a response and hit send.

"Hey," echoed another voice. A familiar voice.

Misha'a stomach dropped. Both smile and frown tugged at his lips, and when he finally looked up from his phone, he greeted Raphael with an awkward half-grin.

"God, I missed those eyes," Raph said.

Raphael was charming, and that day he was putting it to full use. His dark eyes twinkled with a mischievousness that matched his smirk. Muscles were well-defined beneath his collared shirt, whose top two buttons were undone. Dark jeans clung to narrow hips, and Misha felt his stomach flip when he took in the freshly shaven cheekbones and perfect jawline. Raph favoured scruff, but Misha loved him smooth-faced. Between that and the outfit, it was clear Raphael had dressed for his ex's benefit. Even besides the fact that Raph looked wonderful, there was something touching about knowing that. Knowing that on a level, Raph still cared.

"Hey," Misha said, realizing he had been silent for too long.

"No hug?"

Misha stood unsteadily to give the smaller man a one-armed embrace. Raph pouted at the distance Misha left between their chests, but the wide grin quickly returned to his face.

They each took a seat at the small table. After only seconds, Misha was feeling uncomfortable with the silence, and he picked up a menu to hide his face. Part of him just wanted to yell "what do you want?" to get the whole moment over with. He could go home, wait for Jensen to finish work, and forget about the man he had once thought he would spend his life with.

"Nice spot," Raph said, glancing about the cafe.

"A coworker recommended it."

And since when was Jensen a coworker?

"How is work anyway?"

Misha shrugged. "Pretty amazing actually. It's a fun group of people, and the character is great. They give me pretty free range with him."

Raph grinned. "I figured. Castiel has 'Misha' written all over him."

Misha smiled wryly and took a sip of his water, not knowing what else to say.

"I watch every episode, you know. I'm really proud of you, Dee."

Misha couldn't help but grimace at the old nickname. 'D' for Dmitri. 'D' for Daddy. Mostly he grimaced at the shiver of pleasure that ran through him after not hearing it for so long.

"Why are you here Raph?" Misha retaliated against the traitorous feeling of wellbeing.

Raphael's eyes widened innocently. "There's a conference going on this weekend. Since I was here I thought I would look you up. I've missed you."

He reached his hand across the table. Misha didn't take it, and Raph sighed.

"Look, I deserve that. I know. But it really is nice to see you again."

Misha gave a half smile. It was impossible to stay mad at the younger man. "It's good to see you too-" He stopped just in time to keep "Baby" from leaving his lips. Inwardly, Misha smacked himself. He brought to mind an image of Jensen. The impish grin that always made Misha laugh. The beautiful green eyes that looked at him so trustingly.

Misha was about to mention his relationship; he really was. At that moment though, a waitress finally came by to take their order. When she had left again, Raph brought up news of home, and soon, both men were laughing as he caught Misha up on the latest gossip.

The afternoon passed quickly following that, and after a few coffees and a couple of hours, it felt as though no time had been lost between them.

Raph stretched his arms overhead with a smile. "I don't have anything on this evening," he said. "Why don't we get dinner? It's pretty much that time anyway."

Misha glanced at his watch. Raph was right. It was 5pm already. Jensen though.

"I'm supposed to be meeting someone tonight," Misha said. Someone. As in your boyfriend? "Why not tomorrow or the evening after?"

"I'll be at the conference both nights."

Misha hesitated, but finally he grabbed his phone. "I'll see if I can postpone."

As Misha typed, he couldn't shake the guilty feeling that had taken hold in his chest. It was just dinner. Who knew when he would see Raph again? Besides, Jensen would surely say he didn't mind. Misha hesitated over the 'send' button, because that was the problem; whether Jensen was bothered or not, he would say to go ahead.

Even as he sent the message, Misha wished he could take it back. He was giving up an evening with his boy for someone he knew would never be more than a friend. On the other hand, Jensen was understanding. Raph, not so much, and Misha wanted both relationships to continue. Nothing said he couldn't have a nice evening of catching up with Raphael and establishing a friendship, then continue his life with Jensen.

A buzz from his phone drew Misha back to the present.

Of course, Jensen had replied. Have fun.

And even through all his rationalizations, Misha knew something was off. What, he didn't know, but no action that made his stomach squirm like could be alright.

...........................................

Jensen sighed, and Jared caught his eye.

"What's up?"

They were packing up their things and heading to the parking lot after work. Jensen and Jared had both rushed to get to their cars before Jim saw his and could chase them down.

"Nothing," Jensen said. "Misha and Raph are going to get a drink I guess." Seeing Jared's frown, Jensen quickly added, "It's no big deal. Just means my plans for the evening are screwed."

Jared hesitated, but after a moment, he looked as though he had made up his mind about something. "Want to go for a drink then?" he asked.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yah, man. I'm not doing anything either. Might as well."

"Pourhouse?"

Jared grinned. "Pourhouse."

Both Jensen and Jared turned at the sound of footsteps.

"See you there?" Jared asked.

Jensen nodded once, and both men hopped into their cars. By the time Jim reached the lot, they were safely on their way.

...........................................

"So what are you going to do about this Raph guy?"

Jensen looked up from his menu in confusion. "Hm?"

"He's moving in on Misha."

Jensen smirked and raised an eyebrow. "We aren't all insecure."

"Come off it," Jared snorted. "It's driving you crazy wondering what they're talking about. What they're doing..."

"Well it wasn't. Thanks man."

Jared shrugged. "Hey, it's Misha's ex. From the sounds of it they were close. You're allowed to wonder. That shit's not in your head."

"Again, thanks Jared. Can we just talk about something else?"

"Fine. Have you talked to Misha about what he's doing after the season ends?"

Jensen put his face in his hands. "Jesus, Jared."

Jared shrugged. "Not my fault you communicate about as well as a Winchester."

Jensen scowled.

"One thing I do want to talk about," Jared said, suddenly sounding uncomfortable. "I've been thinking. About the other day. And about today. And the past three years. And we're good. On my end anyway. I'd like to just pretend the other day never happened."

"Great communication skills there, Shakespeare."

"Are we good or not?"

Jensen grinned. "We never weren't on my end."

...........................................

Since Jared had an early morning the next day, he offered to drive, allowing Jensen to get pleasantly buzzed. It was the best way Jared knew to ply his friend for information. Unfortunately, Jensen was reserved that night despite the extra drinks. So, although they had a good evening, Jared was no closer to getting Jensen to talk about his Misha problems.

As he drove, Jared's mind was turning. Whether Jensen would admit to it or not, he was obviously upset about not seeing Misha that evening. There was an easy fix, but since Jensen wouldn't message Misha, it was up to Jared to fix things. It was amazing Jensen and Misha had gotten together at all without his help.

"This isn't the way to my house," Jensen said, when he finally noticed the route Jared was taking.

"I need to stop for gas."

"There's an Irving right on the way to my place."

Jared shrugged. "Didn't know if it would be open."

As he pulled up beside a pump, Jared looked at Jensen. "Please?"

"No way. Your car. You pump."

Jared made his wide eyes sad, and finally Jensen sighed heavily and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out of the car, shut his door, and was just selecting the fuel type when an engine roared to life behind him. Jensen whirled around.

"What the fuck, Jared?"

Before Jensen could lunge for the door, Jared had pulled away. The car window rolled down, and Jared stuck his head out.

"Don't worry. You have somewhere to stay close by. I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, so you can get your car."

Jensen was about to call out more obscenities, but Jared's window was up, and his car was already pulling out of the lot.

Somewhere to stay... Jensen looked about him, and slowly it dawned on him. Jared had dropped him off a block away from Misha's flat. Crafty bastard.

Briefly, Jensen considered calling a taxi, but his desire to see Misha outweighed his urge to spitefully defy Jared. He began walking, and his steps quickly hastened until he was jogging, urged on by the thought of seeing his boyfriend.

When Jensen reached Misha's front door, he hesitated with his hand poised over the bell. Guiltily he checked the time on his phone. Yah, it was late. He could still call a taxi, let Misha sleep, but for once, Jensen felt like being selfish. Jared would be so proud.

Jensen rang the doorbell and waited, full of excited anticipation. He waited until he began to have doubts. Maybe Misha was still out. Or maybe he was asleep. Maybe he wasn't an idiot who opened his door to unexpected visitors in the middle of the night.

As he was about to turn away, Jensen heard the lock click, and the door opened inward.

"Jensen?"

"Yah," Jensen rubbed his head sheepishly, suddenly feeling awful for calling so late. "Jared was supposed to dri-"

Jensen didn't get to finish his sentence, because suddenly his arms were full of Misha. Tousle-haired, scratchy-sweatered Misha. Jensen wasn't about to complain. He hugged back just as tightly, and breathed in his boyfriend's fresh scent. In that moment, despite Raphael, despite work and contracts, despite his own insecurities, Jensen knew he and Misha would be alright.

Chapter Text

“I missed you,” Misha said when he finally pulled away.

“Yah, same.”

Jensen shivered, and Misha realized they were still standing in his open doorway.

“C’mon,” Misha gestured Jensen inside. “What was that about Jared?”

“He decided we needed an intervention, so he abandoned me a block from your house.”

Misha frowned. “Alone?”

“I’m not actually four, Misha.”

Misha’s face didn’t change, but he nodded. “Point.” He stared at Jensen searchingly. “Did we need an intervention?”

Jensen shrugged. “You know Jared.”

“I know he knows you better than anyone.”

“Except you,” Jensen protested.

“Sometimes.”

“Jared just likes to meddle,” Jensen soothed. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Misha, pulling the other man to him. Misha’s nose was filled with the familiar scent of Jensen. It washed away the remnants of sitting in Raph’s rental car, and for the fifth time in the past ten minutes, Misha was glad he had insisted on not going out for further drinks with Raphael's colleagues.

Misha felt Jensen pull away, and he tried to follow the warm body. Chuckling, Jensen allowed Misha to burrow back into him.

“I woke you up.”

“I’m glad,” Misha said sincerely. Getting to sleep had been difficult. With Jensen there, the thoughts that had plagued him and later turned to dreams that haunted him, were washed away. Everything was simple again. Raph was the past. Jensen was the present and future. And it was perfection.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Jensen said. He pulled back so he could wrap an arm around Misha and lead the shorter man to the bedroom.

As soon as they got to the room, Misha flopped face-first onto the bed.

Jensen laughed. “I am not sleeping next to you if you’re wearing that sweater.”

Misha grumbled, but he managed to get the offending clothing over his arms and head without ever lifting himself up. Once he was finished, Jensen rolled him over and managed to wrestle him under the blankets. As soon as Misha was tucked in, Jensen dove under the covers himself. Misha was already breathing heavily, so Jensen wrapped himself around Misha’s body. He could take a turn as the big spoon for once. No matter the sleeping position or the fact that Misha was starting to snore softly, Jensen felt calm wash over him. It was the peace that came with knowing he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

…………………………………………………..

Jensen looked up from the newspaper crossword puzzle at the sound of the doorbell.

“I’ll grab it,” he said.

Misha was still eating breakfast, and he nodded thankfully.

“You’re terrible at these anyway,” Jensen said, letting the paper fall to the coffee table. “There’s no way ‘rope’ is right. Thirty-two down would have to start with ‘RZ’”.

“In Russian-“ Misha called after him.

“Bullshit,” Jensen yelled back as he opened the door.

The man who had rung the doorbell looked up at him with a model-perfect smile.

“Hey,” the man said. “I’m looking for Misha. I thought this was the place I dropped him at last night, but it was dark…”

Jensen froze. It was only for a split second, but in that moment his stomach dropped, his mouth dried up, and his mind went blank. He was proud when he managed to get his next words out without a stammer.

“You’re Raphael.”

Raph grinned, and Jensen’s stomach sank even further.

He’s moving in on Misha, Jared’s words rang in his head.

Fuck off, he told memory-Jared. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake the realization that if this man, with whom Misha had history, wanted his boyfriend back, Jensen was in serious trouble. Maybe not completely screwed, but in trouble.

“Come on in,” Jensen said, swallowing against the dryness in his mouth. He stepped aside so Raph could enter, viciously suppressing the part of him that wanted to dropkick the other man out the front door. Raph was short enough… Short enough to actually be Misha’s little boy.

Jensen shook his head to clear it, earning him a look from Raphael.

“I’ll grab Misha,” Jensen said. The idea of inviting Raph in completely was sickening.

Jensen returned to the couch, and Misha looked up at him curiously.

“Your -Raphael- is here.”

“What?” Misha said, looking about as stunned as Jensen felt.

Anger bubbled up, surprising Jensen. It was a nice reprieve from anxiety though. How dare Misha feel uncomfortable when him going for drinks with Raph was the only reason the man was there, interrupting Jensen’s pleasant morning.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jensen said, with a look that said “Deal with it.”

Misha raised his eyebrows, and Jensen blushed. He wasn’t normally the jealous type. What was Misha doing to him? Feeling sheepish but still irritated, Jensen walked with dignity from the room. He didn’t flee. Nope.

…………………………………………………..

Misha arrived at the door to find a familiar face grinning at him. Moments later, he was being hugged warmly, with bright eyes smiling up at him.

"So who was that?" Raph asked, following Misha inside.

"My...boyfriend."

Misha eyed the other man out of his periphery.

Raphael whistled. "No wonder you were anxious to come home last night. Are you living together?"

"No."

"Not yet."

"Not yet," Misha agreed.

Misha led Raph to the kitchen and gestured for him to take a seat at the counter. Having done so, Raph rested his chin in his hands and watched as Misha poured him coffee the way he liked. Placing the steaming mug down in front of Raphael, Misha grabbed his own, then pulled out a chair.

They chatted for awhile. For the most part it was comfortable, but the missing third party was becoming more noticeable. After a half hour, the lack of Jensen was beginning to dominate Misha's thoughts.

"So your boyfriend, um.."

"Jensen," Misha supplied.

"Jensen-"

"Actually," Misha said. "I figured he would be back by now."

"Jense," Misha called, cupping his hand to his mouth. "Are you going to come say 'hi'?"

"Nope," came the distant call. Then, as if he heard Misha's gasp all the way from the bedroom, Jensen yelled, "busy."

Misha sat staring in the direction of the hallway, mouth open, until Raph finally chuckled.

"You never would have let me get away with that."

Misha shut his mouth and glared at the shorter man. "What makes you think-"

Raphael raised his eyebrows.

Right, Misha realized. No point in denying the obvious.

"Jensen doesn't constantly push the limits just to see how far he can."

Raph blushed slightly, but he covered it with a quick smile. To hide his pleasure, Misha took a sip from his drink. It felt good to know he could still have that effect on the scamp.

After that, their conversation turned to other things. Following an hour and another coffee each, Raphael had to get back to his conference, and Misha walked him to the door. Jensen never did join them.

…………………………………………………..

As soon as the door closed behind Raph, Misha turned on his heel and stalked towards the bedroom. He threw open the door and sternly eyed the face staring up at him from the bed.

"Busy?" Misha said, eyeing the book in Jensen's lap.

"Well I was," Jensen muttered.

Misha met his mutinous glare and sighed. There was no point in turning Jensen's behavior that morning into an argument.

"Did you still want to go for a walk?"

"Why? Is Raph busy?"

Misha took a deep breath. "No. Because you wanted to before he showed up. Would you still like to?"

"No." Then, realizing he was stepping over the line into 'surly', Jensen hurriedly added, "I'm happy just reading."

Misha eyed him, but it was hard enough getting little Jensen to do something he didn't want to; there was no point trying to force adult Jensen to do anything. Instead, he nodded and left the room. Jensen would venture out when he was ready.

…………………………………………………..

As soon as the door closed behind Misha, Jensen threw the book aside. He didn't feel like reading. In fact, he had only grabbed the book off Misha's nightstand when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Jensen was painfully aware of how empty the room was. Watching the door shut behind Misha had left him with a hole inside, a physical ache. He was lost between wanting to snap at Misha though and wanting to curl into him. Desiring closeness and needing to push the other man until Misha felt as bad as Jensen did watching him with Raph.

Jensen shook his head again. He truly wasn't the jealous type. Oddly though, he wasn't jealous of Raph moving in on his boyfriend as much as he was his daddy. Jensen trusted Misha after all. Why would he date someone he couldn't count on? Try as he might though, Jensen couldn't rid himself of the image of Raph sitting on Misha's carpet, playing, while Misha watched over him. Jensen pouted and wrapped his arms around himself. Stupid short Raph, with his stupid adorable smile, and his lack of insecurities to get in the way of being a good little one. Meanwhile, Jensen was too tall and gave Misha nothing but drama.

Jensen realized that he was beginning to wallow. Unfortunately, all he wanted to do was call Misha. If Raph had never come, he could be showing Misha gorgeous scenery on foot, while the sun shone down on them. Part of him whispered tantalizingly that this was still an option, that nothing had actually changed. The bigger part of him pushed those thoughts aside. Raph and Misha had killed his mood, and there was no fixing the day. Jensen felt tears of frustration prick his eyes. And since when did he cry? He grabbed the pillow that was digging into his side and threw it against the wall. Jensen just stared as it hit harmlessly and fell to the floor.

"What the actual hell, man?" he said aloud. Jensen was not one for physical displays of anger. Then again, he was also not supposed to be jealous. Or crying.

Jensen curled into a miserable ball. "My daddy," he whispered, and a tear traced a path along his nose.

Guiltily, Jensen realized he had been feeling little since stupid Raph first showed up, and Misha always told Jensen to be honest about needing little time. There was no way Jensen was putting himself at Misha's mercy now though, not after he had behaved like a brat. Besides, Jensen still wasn't done resenting Misha for his role in ruining what could have been a perfect day. After all, Misha was the reason Raph was in their lives at all. Why couldn't Misha have bad taste in men? Why couldn't Misha attract losers?

No, Jensen was decided. He would wait out feeling little; he would not go to Misha. Jensen picked up the book he had cast aside. It looked suitably dull to be from Misha's library. Still, he propped himself upright, balanced the book against his knees, and tried to lose himself in the pages of print.

.........................................

Misha rubbed his eyes with one palm as he came to the end of yet another Netflix episode. He had lost count of how many he had seen, but Misha had been on the couch long enough that he no longer felt irritation towards Jensen's earlier behaviour. Misha got up with a groan. Hopefully Jensen would feel the same and they could do something with the remainder of their day.

Misha hesitated in front of the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, as he had left it. No soft snores came from inside the room, so Jensen probably wasn't asleep. Misha grimaced. That meant Jensen had stayed away out of choice. Wonderful.

With a soft sigh, Misha pushed the door open. Jensen looked up from his book, and Misha resisted the urge to laugh. His boyfriend had not made much progress, and Misha wasn't surprised; he and Jensen had very different tastes in literature.

"How's the book?" Misha asked wryly.

"Fine," Jensen said.

Misha raised an eyebrow. Ahh. So we're still surly.

"Would you like to do something else?"

"Good here," Jensen said.

Misha sighed. "Look, I'm sorry our morning got messed up. I had no idea Raph would come by."

"Yupp."

"Jens-"

"I know. It's fine."

Misha took a deep breath. Every response he wanted to give would only make things worse, but things wouldn't go back to normal between them until they talked.

"Can I go back to my book now?"

And that was it.

"Jensen," Misha said before he could stop himself, "you're being a brat."

Jensen sat up straight and glared. "Am not."

"You are," Misha sighed.

"Take it back."

"I will when you start behaving properly."

"Take it back now," Jensen yelled.

Misha stared at his normally soft-spoken boyfriend. Jensen's chest was heaving, and his eyes were too bright. When Jensen blinked, water ran down his cheeks.

Oh.

"Just go away," Jensen said, as he scrubbed at his face.

Misha did the opposite; he crossed the room and sat on the bed. Reaching out, he ignored Jensen's struggles and pulled his boy to him.

"Okay, little one," Misha said, as he began to rock them both.

"I'm not li-"

"Jensen," Misha said sternly, although he didn't break the hug. "You are already in a world of trouble. Don't add lying to daddy to the list."

"I'm not little," Jensen said stubbornly. "Raph is little."

Misha felt a fresh wave of tears soak his shoulder, and heard Jensen sniffle. Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Oh, Jense," he said.

Misha continued to hold his boy as Jensen lost the tight control he had been keeping on his tears.

"'m sorry," Jensen said between sniffs.

Misha just kept rocking, allowing Jensen the chance to cry. It would be cathartic.

Finally, Jensen's sobbing lessened, and Misha pulled away a bit, so they could talk. He had been wanting to talk to Jensen; however, he had not realized it was his little one with whom he needed to speak. Now, all Misha's reassurances about Raph being an ex and them not being compatible in a relationship would be useless, and Misha realized he had no idea of how to help his jealous, hurting boy.

Jensen looked at Misha earnestly, and Misha realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts. "What was that, baby?"

"Please don't hate me," Jensen whispered, and the tears started again.

"Oh, Jensen," Misha inwardly sighed at his boy's dramatics, even as he pulled the little one in for another hug. "Baby, I could never hate you. You've apologized, and now it's over.

"No punishmen'?"

Misha laughed. "We'll talk about that later."

Jensen jerked back and eyed Misha wildly. "Daddy, noo."

"Come here," Misha said, and pulled Jensen back into his chest. "You belong right here, you know that?"

Jensen shrugged against him. "Raph's shorter than you."

"True, but Raph doesn't make great car noises like you do, and he doesn't know all the words to Aladdin, and he doesn't let me read The Magic Treehouse to him. You could be ten feet tall and you would still be the best little boy in the whole world."

"I love you, Daddy," Jensen said.

"I love you too, baby."

The stayed like that until Jensen squirmed tellingly.

"I think we had better take you to the potty," Misha said, as he pulled back from Jensen.

Jensen blushed and looked at his lap.

"Come on," Misha said, offering his hand when Jensen made no effort to move.

"Da-" Jensen stopped though and started to take Misha's hand.

"Do you need something?"

Jensen blushed deeper and squirmed again.

"Just tell me what you want, baby."

"Diaper?"

Jensen's voice was so soft that Misha almost missed what he said. Once Misha realized though, it was all he could do to keep the mad grin off his face. "Of course," he said, keeping his voice casual. Inside though, Misha was filled with warmth. Jensen asking for a diaper was as pleasing as it was unexpected. Somehow, that afternoon, they had taken a huge step forward. Certainly they still had to address Jensen's earlier behaviour, but Misha would put up with a tantrum everyday for the rest of his life if it ended with Jensen accepting himself.

Jensen wiggled, pulling Misha from his reverie. "I guess we had better get you diapered." Misha left to get the supplies, feeling lighter than he had in days. There was no telling if Jensen would be feeling young tomorrow, so Misha was going to make sure the rest of his day was spent with a happy little boy. It would be a perfect day after all

Chapter Text

Jensen closed his eyes as Misha slid his jeans over his hips and down his legs. He did his best to focus on the cushiony mattress beneath him, not what Misha’s gentle hands were doing at his waist. It was mortifying that he had asked Misha to put a diaper on him, something he was certain he would never request.

Despite the embarrassment of being changed at his own request, it seemed too soon when Misha’s hands stopped their gentle touches and instead, shook Jensen back to the present.

“All diapered,” Misha said brightly. Then he frowned. “None of that,” he said, brushing Jensen’s reddening cheek. “I’m proud of you for asking.”

“No punishment then,” Jensen said, seizing the opportunity to address his other concern.

Misha sighed, but he smiled fondly. “I didn’t say that, but we can talk about what’s fair when you’re feeling better.”

Jensen grimaced, but there was no point forcing the issue. Besides, he had a more pressing problem: Jensen finally had the diaper on, but it was too awkward to wet it in front of Misha when his daddy knew exactly what he was doing.

Misha must have noticed Jensen's discomfort, because he took his boy by the hand, pulling him up from the bed. "How about a story?" he asked.

Jensen grinned. "Magic Treehouse?"

"Absolutely."

Jensen allowed himself to be led to the couch. He stood by as Misha found a blanket and sat at one corner. As soon as he was settled, the older man patted his lap.

"C'mere, little man."

Jensen hopped onto the couch, cringing slightly when the landing jarred his bladder. Ow. Before his daddy could notice though, Jensen gathered himself and stretched out, head in Misha's lap and legs crossed tightly. Misha spread the blanket over them both, tucking it beneath Jensen's head, and began to read.

Jensen held on as long as he could. Finally though, the pain in his abdomen was growing unbearable. He uncrossed his legs, and as soon as he did so, he felt his crotch dampen. Reflexively, he tried to stop from peeing his pants, but it didn't matter. Jensen was past the point of no return, and only seconds later he was flooding his diaper, eyes wide.

Misha must have noticed what was happening, but he kept reading, giving his boy the privacy needed. Gratefully, Jensen snuggled closer to Misha when he realized his daddy wasn't going to say anything. Yet. Warmth was all around him, both physical and the unbeatable comfort of being loved. Jensen shoved his remaining doubts to the back of his mind. The moment was perfect, and he wasn't going to ruin it by thinking.

Half an hour later, Jensen was beginning to drift off to sleep to the sound of Misha's voice. A hand at the waistband of his pants brought him back to the world though. Jensen sniffed. As if his daddy needed to check whether he was wet.

Misha chuckled at the glare being directed towards him. "I think we should get you changed, buddy."

Jensen grumbled, and Misha grinned, earning him another scowl. Still, Jensen allowed Misha to lead him back to the bedroom. He forced himself not to close his eyes or fiddle with his shirt as his diaper was removed and he was cleaned. As Misha taped another diaper on him, without asking whether Jensen wanted one or not, the boy forced himself to just be. To be with the person he loved and who loved him. To be cared for. To be free of guilt and to be content in the moment.

********************

Once Misha had finished changing Jensen, he watched his boy for a moment. Jensen was surprisingly at ease, not even pretending to object to another diaper. It was wonderful.

It was hard to resist the urge to suggest playtime, nearly impossible to bring himself to wipe the serenity off Jensen's face. Still, Misha knew he had delayed addressing Jensen's earlier behavior long enough. It had been self-indulgent to suggest story time, but as much as he knew Jensen would appreciate it, Misha needed the bonding time with his boy too. If he left the punishment any longer though, it would lose all purpose.

Misha forced himself not to sigh. From the start of their relationship Misha had dreaded the day he would have to punish Jensen. Not only had it become Misha's mission to see those big eyes sparkle with laughter, but Misha wasn't sure what the boy could or couldn't handle. Worse, Misha knew better than to assume his little one would tell him if something was too much.

Misha was aware of Jensen watching him curiously, and he tried to sort through the possibilities in his head. Raph had been easy to punish. There was nothing the kid couldn't handle, and he always deserved what he got. Jensen though, Jensen wasn't the type to provoke or go looking for trouble. Misha did sigh then. The hardest part of punishing Raph had been finding something that the boy didn't gleefully take; spankings were off the table.

"Daddy?" Jensen asked.

Misha offered a weak smile. "We should talk now, baby."

Jensen's eyes widened. The horror in them would have been comical if Misha hadn't been the one to cause it. Wonderful.

"The world isn't ending, Jense. But we do need to talk about your behavior today."

Jensen nodded, cheeks red. He didn't meet Misha's eyes.

"I need you to look at me baby."

Jensen did, and Misha almost wished he hadn't insisted. Those sad eyes made Misha want to pretend he forgot all about that morning and go back to story time.

Instead, Misha forced himself to keep a stern face. "Do you know why we need to talk?"

Jensen shook his head.

It was hard for Misha to stop from rolling his eyes. Of course Jense would make this as difficult as possible. "Think," he said.

Jensen sighed, then looked at Misha quickly to make sure he hadn't made things worse for himself.

"Yess," Jensen said finally, making Misha chuckle inwardly. Maybe his spunky boy could handle a punishment after all. Adult Jensen was an actor, and the kid knew how guilty his "sorry" face could make Misha feel. It was definitely possible that the sadness was being played up.

"Why do we need to talk," Misha said.

"Because I was a brat."

Misha rubbed his face. "Try again, baby."

"I was rude," Jensen said.

"True, but that's not what bothered Daddy the most."

Jensen looked at Misha, genuine puzzlement on his face.

"Something was bothering you about us, and you didn't come talk to me about it. I always want to know that, baby. I also always want to know when you're feeling little."

Misha raised an eyebrow, causing Jensen to blush. That was a well-established rule between them, of which Jensen was very aware.

"So what do you think we should do?" Misha asked when it was clear his boy had nothing to say in defence.

"You could put me in the corner?" When Jensen finally answered, his voice was small, and Misha couldn't tell how much of it was acting.

"Would that be okay with you?"

Jensen hesitated.

"It's a punishment, Jense. It shouldn't be fun, but it should be something you're okay with. If you need to use your safe word, you can."

Jensen pressed his lips together and nodded once.

"Alright. Then I want you to stand facing the empty corner in the living room. No talking until I tell you it's over, unless you want to use your safe word."

As Misha explained the rules, his resolve strengthened. It was a routine he had gotten used to in the past, and Jensen had given him the go ahead. In the future his boy would have much less say in punishments, but for now, it was a start.

************

Jensen stared at Misha's white wall, fighting the urge to fidget. He was bored in time out. Bored because he wouldn't allow himself to think. As soon as he did that, Jensen knew he would have to face all the reasons why he was the worst boy ever. Raph probably never got in trouble. He shook his head to clear it, earning him a reprimand from his daddy.

Jensen shifted his weight slightly so he could better see the ray of sun lighting stretching towards his corner. He should have gone for the stupid walk when Daddy asked.

Reflexively, Jensen sniffed. He had ruined both their days because he was too stubborn to talk to his daddy when that was all he wanted to do in the first place. He had forced Misha to punish him, which knowing his daddy, was not something the man would want to do. Hopefully Misha wasn't too annoyed .

A tear ran down Jensen's cheek, and he scrubbed at it roughly, resulting in another sharp reminder from Misha. Jensen tried his best to think like a grown-up, to look at it just as a role-play, to realize it would be all over soon. Instead, more tears chased the first down his cheeks. While he couldn't stop the tears, he kept them quiet, and he was proud for managing that.

Jensen was working so hard to ignore the desire to call out for his daddy and apologize again and again, that he missed the first time Misha said his name. Next thing Jensen knew, hands were on his shoulders, turning him away from the walls.

"Oh, Jense," Misha said. He took Jensen's cheeks in his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. "Are you alright baby boy?"

Jensen nodded.

"Are you sure?"

Jensen nodded again.

"Alright."

Misha stepped back and led Jensen over to the couch. "Now, why were you in time out?"

Jensen grimaced. Obviously his daddy knew. Why couldn't he just let it go?

"Jensen."

Misha's voice was stern again, and Jensen shuddered. "Because I was stubborn and didn't tell you when I was upset and feeling little."

"Good boy. I love you so much, little man."

Jensen felt himself tear up again as he was pulled against Misha's chest. Even though he knew one incident like that wasn't enough for Misha to stop loving him, the confirmation was wonderful. He snuggled into Misha until he was almost sitting in his daddy's lap.

Jensen felt Misha laugh against him, but he ignored it. He had put up with the punishment, and he had earned this cuddle. Apparently Misha thought so too, because his daddy pushed him aside slightly, then grabbed their reading blanket and allowed Jensen to snuggle back in.

Jensen was just getting comfortable when his stomach rumbled. He grumbled as he felt Misha shift beneath him.

"Don't give me that look," Misha said as he got up from the couch. "I'll be right back."

There was a few minutes of shuffling in the kitchen, and then Misha returned as promised, something hidden behind his back. Jensen watched curiously and allowed Misha to slide behind him and cover them both with the blanket again.

Was they were both settled, Misha reached to the floor and revealed a bottle. Jensen began to protest, but one look at his daddy's smile was enough to make him open his mouth obediently. He gave his daddy a look though so the older man would know this would not be a regular occurrence. Misha snorted, and Jensen closed his eyes, content that his message had been received.

It took awhile, but Jensen's hunger eventually overcame his reluctance to use the bottle. He sucked in a mouthful of strawberry milkshake, something Misha had discovered could get little Jensen to take in some calories when he was in a picky mood.

Once he had started drinking from the bottle, it was easy to continue. The rhythmic sucking was soothing enough, that even once the bottle was empty, Jensen kept it in his mouth. Between that and Misha stroking his hair, Jensen drifted into a relaxing place, somewhere between asleep and awake.

They stayed like that for almost an hour. Eventually, Misha grabbed a book from the coffee table, but Jensen was happy to just bask in the warmth of the sun and his daddy's body.

His comfort was not disturbed until he felt the need to pee. After only a moment's consideration, Jensen let go. After all, it was Misha's idea to put him in another diaper, so his daddy must have expected him to use it.

Unfortunately, Jensen's plan backfired; almost as soon as he finished peeing, he felt his human cushion shift.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

"Daddy," Jensen whined. The best thing about a diaper was not having to interrupt cuddles.

"Come with me now, and you can choose what we do next."

Jensen glanced at the clock, one of the few things Misha had bothered to hang on his walls. 4:00 pm. There was still plenty of time left to play.

"If we can colour and play with cars."

"Two things?" Misha said with mock consternation.

"Please?"

Misha pretended to consider, then nodded.

With a grin, Jensen jumped up from the couch and pulled Misha after him. Why did his daddy always have to take so long? He dragged the other man along until they got to his changing supplies. Then, although it was beginning to feel more normal to get changed by another person, Jensen let Misha take over.

Jensen met Misha's eyes plaintively, as the other man finished cleaning him off and reached for a clean diaper.

"Pull-up, Daddy?"

"Not today, baby."

Jensen hid his smile. Misha's grin told him his daddy wasn't fooled, but that was more than okay. There was an entire evening of fun ahead. Besides, every moment spent with Misha was wonderful.

Chapter Text

Jensen woke up the next morning, and the first thing he noticed was that he definitely felt big again. It was always odd to find himself diapered when he felt like an adult, and the old feelings of shame waited on the outskirts of his consciousness for his acknowledgement. Well, it wasn't going to happen. Through the crack between Misha's curtains, which never closed perfectly, Jensen could see bright sun and a brilliant blue sky. After the perfect day Misha had given him yesterday - Jensen resolutely ignored certain events - it was time to return the favour and give Misha a perfect adult day. While the daddy/little side of their relationship felt comfortable again, Jensen could still feel a tension between himself and his boyfriend, and Misha was not even awake.

As quietly as he could, Jensen slipped out of Misha's bed and snuck from the room. Once the door was closed behind him, Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. "Like a ninja," he said with a grin.

The day was as perfect as Jensen was hoping. Between waking up in Misha's bed after a wonderful sleep and the sun brightening up Misha's kitchen, it was impossible not to feel content. Jensen whistled as he pulled out a pan. It was a day for pancakes. Besides, it was rare that he was up before Misha and even more unusual that Misha didn't wake up when he tried to leave the bedroom. It would be a crime not to use the chance to start Misha's perfect day with breakfast in bed.

While the pan warmed, Jensen started working on the coffee. Good cheer could only take him so far in the morning; caffeine was a must.

Just as Jensen had finished with the coffee maker and was adding butter to his pan, the phone rang. He peered across the counter, but the number wasn't one he recognized. If it was important, The person could leave a message.

Jensen began to whistle again as he whisked the butter back to the fridge. His musical cheer was cut off though, when Misha's answering machine beeped and began to record.

Hey D, it’s me.

Jensen recognized the voice instantly, and he grimaced at the familiarity of the greeting. He supposed it was fair for Raph to be so casual with Misha after all the years they were together though. Still, who or what was a “Dee”?

For Godsake, get voicemail on your cellphone like the rest of the world. Who pays for a landline anymore anyway?

Jensen shrugged as he whisked the pancake batter. He had a landline. Mostly because he kept putting off calling to cancel the service, but he would be keeping his home phone now. If Raph didn't approve of them...

I know you are probably sick of hearing this, but it was good to see you. I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about the fact that I would be going home today, and I might not see you again. You’re amazing Misha, and if we never spoke again, I would be the one losing something spectacular.

Jensen snorted. Raph was right about that at least.

I know you said that the producers want to bring Castiel back for another season, but if you don’t take them up on it, or, you know, even if you do… There was a heavy sigh and silence on the machine. Look, either way, not coming here with you was the biggest mistake of my life, and whatever it takes, I want a chance to make that right.

There was further silence, and Jensen gripped the countertop hard. Maybe the machine had finally cut off the message.

I love you Misha.

And there it was.

I just – just call me.

The receiver clicked and a beep signaled the end of the message. Jensen watched smoke rise from his pan as the butter he had coated it in began to burn. What had just happened? He felt as though his entire world had come crashing down around him. “You bastard,” he said softly, unbelieving. Raphael had his chance with Misha. What made him think he deserved a second? And when had Misha told his ex-boyfriend he was getting re-signed with Supernatural when he had not yet mentioned it to Jensen?

Smoke began to pour off the stove, finally snapping Jensen from his thoughts.

"Shit," he said, grabbing the handle and dumping the pan in the sink before it could set off the smoke detector. Misha would have to be deaf not to wake up then, and Jensen was not ready to see his boyfriend yet. He had too much to process first.

Quickly, trying not to feel as though he was fleeing from Misha, Jensen cleaned up his aborted breakfast and found his jacket. He planned to slip out the front door and text Misha an explanation on his way home; instead, on a whim, he jogged back to the kitchen, grabbed a pad of paper, and scribbled a quick note.

I had to run, but I would like to see you this afternoon. If today doesn’t work, let me know. Otherwise, wear something for trekking, and I’ll pick you up at 11. I love you.

– J.

With that, Jensen turned and deliberately did not run out the door.

************

Jensen sat, griping his coffee cup.

"What a dick," Jared said.

"I mean, the guy has balls," Jensen said begrudgingly.

"Balls that Misha has-"

Jensen reached across the table and cuffed Jared before the younger man could finish.

Jared rubbed his ear. "What's the plan then?"

"No plan," Jensen said.

"Jense-"

"Misha knows us both. He knows what he's getting into with either one of us. It's up to him now. I mean, I hope he doesn't go back to that ass hat, but if he does..." Jensen sighed. "Well, I was fine before Misha, and I'll be fine again after him."

"Bullshit."

Jensen glared. "I won't be fine?"

"Of course you wil- would. That doesn't mean you should just let the little turd waltz in."

Jensen snorted.

"Look man," Jared said. "I haven't seen you as happy with anyone as you are with Misha. Even when he's not around, you're more... at ease, I guess. You're good for each other. That's worth fighting for."

Jensen stretched back in his chair. The pep talk was more irritating than inspiring. Like he was going to send Micha over to Raph gift wrapped. Ultimately though, whether Misha went back to Raph or not was his boyfriend's decision.

"I had something in mind. Wanted to see what you thought though. Obviously I regret that now."

Jared grinned and leaned towards Jensen, arms folded on the table. "Talk."

Irritating pep talk or not, it still felt great to spend normal time with Jared again. Jensen settled back in his chair with a smirk. Whether or not his colleague's advice was needed, Jared's friendship was.

*********************

Misha waited nervously by his front door. He hated that he was anxious to see Jensen. Waking up to find Jensen gone though had been odd. When Misha heard the message on his answering machine, he felt as though he would be sick. Even now, his stomach was doing flips. Thank God Jensen had asked him out that afternoon; Misha knew he would not be sleeping at all until he found out whether Jensen had heard Raph's message and if so, how pissed off his boyfriend was.

Jensen's car pulled up, but instead of easing, Misha's anxiousness grew. As he slid into the waiting car though, he was greeted with a grin.

"Ready to go?" Jensen asked.

Misha nodded, and the smile he offered was real. Jensen may have been too good at hiding his feelings when he wanted to, but that smile was all joyful Jensen. Maybe Misha wasn't entirely off the hook, but for now, his worry had receded enough that he could sit back in the comfortable passenger seat and enjoy the wonderful company. The sun was shining, and he was with Jensen. It would take something bigger than Raph to ruin the day. Hopefully.

************

"And here we are," Jensen said. He leaned against a tree, allowing Misha to catch up. As soon as Misha crested the rise, Jensen took his hand and led him toward the end of the trees. "I promise you'll love this," he said, noticing Misha eyeing the ledge.

Misha had been quieter than usual that afternoon, but he offered a smile. It was touching to see Misha focusing on their hands rather than the steep drop-off before them.

That afternoon, Jensen had driven them outside the city to one of his favourite hikes. It wasn't well known, which was part of why Jensen loved it. The sun-dappled path and the ancient trees that shaded were the other reason he kept coming back. That and the view. The last part of the hike was rocky and mostly up; it was the incredible scenery that made it worth the struggle. Well, the beautiful view, and now, the hours alone with Misha.

Jensen led Misha out of the trees and into the sunlight. The boulder on which they stood overlooked a valley, with a river winding its way through. Overhead, a bird drifted by on currents of air.

"An eagle?" Misha breathed, awed.

"A crow, Mish."

Misha laughed deeply.

For a moment, the two men just stood together, watching the clouds float overhead and the river rush by below, the world passing them by.

Finally, Jensen removed his arm from Misha's waist. "C'mon."

He led Misha back to the shade of the trees and slung his pack off his shoulder. Jensen drew out a thin, quick-dry camping towel and spread it over the ground. He gestured for Misha to sit, before pulling sandwiches and a bottle of wine from his bag.

"Twist top," he said, handing over the bottle for opening.

"You think of everything," said Misha, only slightly mocking.

"Apparently not. No glasses."

Misha shrugged and took a swig from the bottle. "What's with your family and drinking in the wilderness?"

Jensen chuckled. "Ackles tradition. Welcome to the family." As soon as he realized what he said, Jensen blushed. "Turkey or ham?" he asked, changing the subject.

Misha allowed him to do so, and the rest of their lunch was comfortable, if quiet.

It wasn't until they had finished eating that Jensen felt his palms beginning to sweat. He was running out of time to do what he needed. Misha had been plied with wine, food, and a gorgeous view. There was nothing left to do to sway his odds. Besides, he thought, shoving aside his nervousness. You're Jensen freaking Ackles. Jensen snorted at the false bravado, earning him a curious look from Misha. Right. And this is Misha Collins... Jensen forced himself not to think of all the things that made the man sitting across from him so incredible.

Misha shifted, likely growing uncomfortable on the hard ground, and Jensen knew it was time. He leaned over and took Misha's hand, meeting the other man's eyes with a tight smile.

“I know we haven’t had much chance over the last few months to just be together. There has been a lot of shi- well, a lot has happened. Even with all of that though, I have enjoyed the time we have spent together. More than any in years.”

Misha smiled warmly. “Me too.”

“I’m glad.” Jensen took a breath. “Misha, would you move in with me? I know we haven’t been together long, but I can’t imagine not being with you now. Not 'I don't want to'. I just can't.”

“I-“

Jensen hurried on. “Before you say anything, I heard Raph’s message this morning. I’m telling you, because I don’t want you to think this is a reaction to him wanting to get back together with you. I had been thinking about asking you anyway, but it seemed too soon. The idea of losing you though- it made me realize I had to get my head out of my ass.”

“So you did hear that,” Misha sighed.

"Yah, and that’s the other reason I’m telling you. I don’t want you to feel pressured to choose between Raph and me. I’d like to think the choice is easy, but I know you two have a lot of history.”

“It’s the most obvious choice in the world, Jense.”

Jensen felt sweat run down the back of his neck. It was suddenly much too hot.

“I called Raph before you picked me up." Misha took Jensen's hand again. "I told him ‘no’. I love you Jensen. I’d want to stay with you even if Cas wasn’t brought back for another season.”

Jensen’s glee was replaced by a frown. “That’s one thing I do want to know. Why didn’t you tell me you were getting signed again?”

Misha blushed, something he rarely did, and Jensen found he liked it. “I didn’t know how you would feel. I was only supposed to be here for one year when we got together. I thought you might feel pressured to keep something going. We never talked about this potentially being serious or longterm when we started seeing each other.”

Jensen grinned. “For someone smart, you're incredibly clueless sometimes”. He pulled Misha into a hug.

"So we're together," Misha mumbled into his shoulder.

"We're together."

Misha's warm breath seemed quicker than usual, and Jensen rubbed his back soothingly. When they broke apart, Misha was smiling, and there was nothing insincere about it.

"Misha," Jensen said. He pointed to a nearby stump. "It's a rare striped forest rat."

Misha looked at the squirrel, grabbed the nearest pinecone, and hurled the object at his smirking boyfriend. Jensen just ducked, laughing at the fake scowl on Misha's face.

When he had finally finished laughing, Jensen got to his feet. He offered Misha a hand, which the other man took.

"Ready to take off?" Jensen said. "Down will be easier than up."

Misha smiled. "I'm not sure the wine helped, but I'll do my best."

"If you trip, just remember to tuck and roll. You'll get down the hill faster that way."

"If I get to the car first, you're walking back."

Jensen shrugged. "Big talk from the guy who just drank most of a bottle of wine."

Misha looked at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "You had some."

Jensen grinned. "I had a mouthful." He gestured to the path. "You start stumbling home, and I'll catch up in a moment."

Once Misha disappeared down the slope, Jensen packed the remains of their meal. He slung the pack over his back; at least Misha's drinking had made it lighter.

As Jensen followed after Misha he finally allowed himself the smile that had been pulling on his face since Misha told him about saying 'no' to Raph. Not just 'no', Jensen reminded himself. It had been an easy choice. The easiest 'no' ever.

One thing did niggle at Jensen's thoughts as he caught up to his boyfriend. Misha hadn't actually said 'yes' to moving in together. Still, Raph was out of the picture, and Misha was staying. Jensen smiled foolishly. Everything was perfect.