"Okay, Vick." I balance my phone between my shoulder and my right ear as I fumble with my keys. "Mhmm."

I lock up and hop down the steps leading from my trailer. That should do it. Hopefully I won't have any more surprises...

"And don't forget to Skype West soon," Vicki adds as I walk down the path for work. Besides the kiss, I'm only needed for close-ups today and a little ADR, with a stunt double taking on the fight scene scheduled in the afternoon.

"Like I could forget," I murmur fondly.

I see Jared walk out of his trailer in costume, coffee in hand.

He wiggles his eyebrows at me, no doubt trying to provoke me. I flip him off and shift my phone to my hand.

"Okay, Vicki; I gotta go."

"Bye, love you."

To my surprise, Jared extends his arm, offering me the coffee cup.

"Is this for real?" I stare at him in awe.

"Please accept this drink as a gesture of solidarity," he pouts contritely, and the Castiel reference isn't lost on me.

I smile wryly and pocket my phone before graciously accepting his gift.
I take a sip. "Two creams, two sugars. Just the way you like it."

I can already feel the hot, revitalizing caffeine surge through my veins, awakening my senses.

"Mmm, I officially owe you one, bro."

Jared slaps a hand onto my back and sidles closer as we walk towards the set.

"Then make it up to me by hanging with the guys at my place tonight."

"Beer and football?"

"Yep," Jared grins.

"Count me in."

***

As soon as we arrive on set, I know something's wrong.

The tension is so thick in the air I can practically smell it. Taking another sip from my coffee, I follow Jared towards a group of fellow cast members. They're huddled with their backs to us as we approach. Tahmoh, Osric, Mark, Jim and -

"Mish!" Ah, and that must be Jensen.

As we near, the men spring apart, and Osric smiles lopsidedly at me.

"Hey Misha. Jared."

I raise my eyebrows as the guys lower their gazes to their shoes and cough nervously.

Jensen looks cool and composed, but my schooled senses easily pick up the subtle clench of his jaw, the muscle twitching in his neck, the angry flush rising from his collar.

"What's going on?" Jared frowns and surveys the group with suspicion.

"Nothing," Jensen snaps. "These clowns were being immature, that's all."

Tahmoh has the grace to blush. Mark is learning what the lid of a coffee cup looks like.

"We're just trying to-"

"Shut up, Tahmoh."

Jared's eyebrows shoot up and he grins tentatively.

"Let me guess. Destiel?"

I sigh as Jensen's hands ball into fists at his sides by way of affirming Jared's theory.

I love these guys, but they can be such immature morons, and they're not helping the situation at all. Because for some reason that I'll never understand, this is actually a delicate issue. I'm the kind of person who's unashamed to shout from the rooftops that I ship it - no, luxury cruiseline it - but not everyone else is like that. The matter is so sensitive that we've actually deleted scenes that were too gay for the delicate palettes of some audience members.

And now Jensen is coming across as a homophobic asshole again. At least, that's what people think - but they don't really know him. He is an enigma to many, but as complex as he is, I think I have him figured out to some extent.

Jensen is actually secretly quite insecure. He plays to the crowd. When said audience is a homophobic mob of haters who pressure him to avoid certain questions and dissuade him from encouraging certain fans, he'll tailor his onstage persona towards them. This is usually in America. In Europe, he knows the crowds are different. They're more open-minded and will laugh along if he is simply himself. He feeds off of the audience's reactions, in the form of laughter, applause, cheering and other forms of validation. He avoids awkward silences, booing or groaning, all of which he believes would be instigated by touching on specific, taboo topics.

He's good at playing these different personas because he's an actor. He can believably sell the homophobic prick if that's what appeases the masses. They're the ones paying to be at conventions. So yeah, he'll act. He'll act if he has to. He'll play the part everyone wants him to play; it's what he knows how to do, what he makes a living of. But on set, away from their scrutiny and judgement and prying eyes, he can behave as he pleases. When it's just him and I, he's a completely different person: the real Jensen.

Not all fans are that naive. They don't all approach our interactions as actors believing that what they are presented with is one hundred percent the Real Us. They aren't stupid. They understand that, ultimately, we're trying to make money. And that just doesn't happen when you reveal your true self, because being yourself to the crowds usually results in displeasing said crowds, invoking media scandals, and causing profits to tank. These conventions generate a huge revenue for us. If we acted on stage the way we act in Clif's car...our careers would be ruined. We'd be destitute.

So Jensen acts. Affronted, disgusted, even hostile - whatever the situation calls for. He's an expert. It took a long time for him to open up to me and be himself, to be completely open and honest, no insecurities, no holds barred. That's how I know he's not homophobic. Because when it's just him and I, Jensen oscillates unabashedly between excess jocularity - inappropriate, hyper-sexuality that makes even me, Misha fucking Collins, blush - and complete impulsivity, with no regard for interpersonal norms or socially mandated boundaries between two men.

For Jensen, denouncing Destiel was simply an acting choice. He's just tired of having his acting called into question by people who challenge his interpretation of his own character. And that makes him defensive. And when he gets defensive he says offensive shit. And because the cast are assholes rather than helpful people, it escalates. And here we are.

"We should go," Mark scratches the back of his neck and looks away from Jensen. "We can hang at my trailer..."

He kicks Osric non-too-subtly and the younger man starts guiltily.

"Right. Yep. Let's go, guys."

They glance at Jensen apprehensively before slowly filing away. I don't blame them for being afraid of him right now; he's so pissed he's practically radiating steam.

The guys shuffle off, desperate to avoid further confrontation with him in this mood. I'm about to follow them myself when a hand falls on my shoulder.

Turning around, I find Jensen staring at me.

"Mish."

A simple word, uttered in that special cadence, halts me in my tracks. Jared stops several feet ahead and looks back at us quizzically.

"Go ahead," I wave him off after a moment's hesitation. "I'll catch up with you later."

He shakes his head before loping away.

And leaving me alone.

With an angry Jensen Ross Ackles.

I get it, though; it kind of makes sense. I know Jensen really well, I get him. I understand that he used to get sacked all the time by three hundred pound guys when he played football, and before that he was getting slammed into lockers because he was a cheerleader, so he's obviously got some violent tendencies that are amplified by his drinking tendencies. Usually the task of looking after drunk and or angry Jensen is relegated to me, provided that I'm actually there on set with him and the guys. But then again, usually the reason for Jensen getting mean has to do with me in the first place.

I remember one of the wrap parties not long ago, when the cast and crew were drinking in Jared's trailer. The guys were being guys, saying shit they didn't mean, teasing me. Matt took a joke a little too far... I could take it, but apparently Jensen couldn't.

No one saw it coming. Because Jensen didn't react right away after the comment about Castiel was made. No, he smiled grimly and the conversation played out for another half hour and everything was fine and people were starting to go home.

I ended up rushing back to the trailer around midnight when I heard a sound like glass breaking and found the cast and crew literally hauling Jensen off of Matt. No one could calm him but me. He was a fucking crazed animal; enraged Jensen plus alcohol is a nightmarish assault waiting to happen. As scared as everyone who knows him gets in such situations, I've never been afraid. He's always been gentle with me. No matter what. Sometimes I'd get offended at the way he'd act around me, tell him to stop treating me like a woman, but on nights like that one I'm glad.

It took me an hour - an honest to fuck hour - just to calm him down enough to be reintegrated into society. He spent sixty minutes laying across the couch with his face down on my lap while I ran my fingers through his hair, soothingly stroking his scalp and assuring him that the guys' joking doesn't bother me. I know about verbal abuse. This was just the cast and crew teasing me the way they love to do, and I'm more than capable of handling it. Just like I'm capable of handling Jensen.

All it takes is some down time, he and I. We just need to go off somewhere and talk quietly and he'll calm right now; that's all it ever takes, simple as that.

I hope.