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He meets Jensen in their usual spot on the outskirts of Vancouver with their drinks in hand. Misha sits down on the bench next to him.
“Here’s your toothpaste drink, love,” he says, handing one of the cups to Jensen.
“Make fun of me all you want but this is Christmas in a cup,” Jensen counters before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a sip. The way he moans as the taste of chocolate and peppermint hit his tongue has Misha’s head only slightly spinning. “Thank you,” he says, leaning forward and pressing warm lips to Misha’s cold cheek.
“It’s freezing out here,” Misha observes, taking the opportunity to scoot closer to Jensen. Jensen takes the cue and stretches his arm around Misha, exaggerated yawn accompanied.
“Better?” Jensen asks.
“Much,” Misha replies.
With that, they fall into a comfortable silence as the sounds of traffic blare in the distance. Content with his tea, Misha sighs into Jensen’s embrace. All the cold melts into warmth when Jensen kisses the top of his head and rubs his shoulder.
“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we never met?” Jensen asks to Misha’s surprise.
“I try not to think about what could have been, and instead focus on what is,” Misha replies, turning to look at Jensen. His gaze is far off and dreamy, green eyes sparkling in the starlight. He takes a breath and says, “I think there isn’t a single universe where we didn’t find each other.”
Jensen’s attention snaps back to Misha and he looks at him, eyes darting from blue to lips then back to blue. Misha closes the distance between them. Jensen doesn’t pull away. He used to when they were in public. Now he just doesn’t care. Neither of them do.
Misha pulls away and locks eyes with Jensen.
“I think so too.”