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Jensen doesn’t like the bus. In fact, he’s not fond of public transportation at all, but it’s so much easier than trying to maneuver his car through the city during rush hour, or any time of the day or night for that matter.
Although lately, there’s been this guy he sees every night on the way home. Jensen smiles and nods at the guy most days but he never talks to him, or anyone else on his way home. He prefers to keep to himself, being fairly introverted and just pain tired after working hard at the brewery all day.
It’s winter and Jensen has been wearing a beanie that covers his ears from the frigid Vancouver air. He keeps his wireless earbuds in, listening to his favorite rock album, so he’s not accidentally roped into a conversation.
He’s walking up to the bus stop when he spots the man with the striking blue eyes and smiles like he always does. He smiles back, raising his hands and flailing them about in what Jensen recognizes as sign language. Jensen reaches up with both hands and plucks his earbuds from his either side of his head, stuffing them in his pocket.
“Hey man, I’m really sorry but I don’t know sign langu—” Jensen begins but the other man interrupts him.
“Oh my god, you’re not deaf?” he whisper-shouts, face turning a shade of red that Jensen thought was exclusive to fire trucks.
“’Fraid not, sorry,” Jensen chuckles, trying to ease the man’s embarrassment. It doesn’t work.
“Shit, you must think I’m an idiot. I thought you were deaf because you never answered when I talked to you. I learned sign language to talk to you,” he says sheepishly, rubbing his hands together anxiously. Jensen can’t help the laugh that builds in his stomach, bursting into the biggest smile that’s ever graced his face.
“Wow, I didn’t think I was worth learning sign language for,” Jensen finally says, wiping small tears from his eyes with his sleeve. The man’s face seems to be going back to its normal color.
“I am so sorry,” he says again.
“Don’t apologize, man. It was an honest mistake. And I’m actually kind of flattered you went through all that trouble just to talk to me,” Jensen offers, and the other man’s face softens into a smile. Damn, he’s really cute.
“I’m Misha,” he says, stretching his hand in front of him for Jensen to shake. Jensen probably would have thought that name was weird if his own name wasn’t equally as strange.
“Jensen,” he replies, taking Misha’s hand in a firm handshake.
“Well, now that we know each other, how about a drink? You busy?” Misha asks. A slight blush spreads across Jensen’s face.
“Definitely, I’d love to learn about the guy who learned sign language for a man who can’t read it,” he laughs.
“Great, I know a place not far from here. Let’s go,” Misha says, grabbing Jensen’s arm and leading him down the street.
About a year later, they meet a woman named Danneel that Jensen ends up really liking. Misha, being the supportive boyfriend he is, wants to let her into their relationship for Jensen. They’re having dinner to get to know each other when the question comes up.
“So how did you two meet?” she asks, brown eyes fluttering with interest.
Misha flushes a deep red, visible even in the candlelight. Jensen squeezes his hand and smirks. He loves this story, but the way Misha always blushes and squirms when someone asks that question never fails to warm his heart. Besides all the general aspects of being in love, teasing each other is one of his favorite parts about their relationship, second only to the way Misha looks and sounds in the morning.
“That’s a great story. Why don’t you take this one, Mish?” Jensen teases, smiling mischievously at the man next to him, who is currently trying to make himself as small as possible.
“I hate you right now,” he grumbles. Danneel is glancing between the two, finding it extremely endearing the way Jensen is looking at Misha with the softest eyes she’s ever seen on a person.
“I love you, too.”