Jared has no filter between his brain and his mouth. If it had once existed - something Jensen was not all too sure about - it had packed up shop and left for sunnier climes long, long ago.

It meant life with Jared was never dull.

It also meant that in the space of four and a half years, Jensen had been forced to bail them both out of trouble more times than he could count. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. Butter couldn't melt in Jensen's mouth, and Jared had a skill for seeking, creating, or tripping over any and every misadventure or calamity within a ten kilometer radius.

And Misha...god help him. Misha was worse.

In only three episodes, Jensen had gone from babysitting one hyperactive costar, to two.

Jared and Misha could almost be brothers, they were so simillar.

They had the same childish sense of humor, the same inappropriate love for pranking any poor bastard who stood still long enough, and the same sharp, know-it-all brain that made all of the above mix together into a combination that could very well succeed in driving Jensen completely round the bend.

Thank god Misha was married, that was all Jensen was saying. The number of times he had been forced to seek salvation with Castiel's endlessly patient wife was getting silly. Jensen was not the fucking wife, thank you very much!

"It's a good plan."

Misha had bounded into their hotel room the at stupid o'clock Sunday morning - and there was another trait he and Jared had in common; inconsiderate bastards, the both of them- with plans to create havoc amongst the erstwhile fan population. Jensen had made the mistake of leaving them unsupervised whilst taking a shower, and in the fifteen minutes between falling out of bed, and drying off with a towel, Jared had taken Misha's 'yay, prank!' idea and come up with the single worst plan in the history of planning.

"No. No fucking way. No and don't you dare say a fucking word!" Jensen pointed sternly at Misha, who's stupidly blue eyes were full of mischief and the effects of too much sugar.

Jared vaulted over the back of the couch and planted himself besides Misha. "Come on, Jen! It'll be like the interview we gave!"

"The one where you said I cry all night?" Jensen asked, rolling his eyes when Jared completely missed the growl in his voice.

"Exactly." Jared beamed. "We totally threw them off the scent!" He was all smiles, matching Misha dimple for dimple as they both turned big, hopeful eyes on Jensen.

Manipulative bastards.

"You actually believe your 'Jensen loves me' spiel did anything but fry the brains of a hundred fangirls?"

Evil genius? Yes.

Stupidly naive? It wasn't even funny.

"But I'll be there!" Misha grinned brightly. "Nothing says 'two straight men with questionable tastes in sweaters' more than another straight man with an awesome fashion sense!"

Jensen blinked, looking remarkably like a goldfish with his mouth half open.

"I...have no words."

"That's a yes then!" With one smooth move, Jared bounced off the couch and tugged Misha after him. "Fuck off, Wings! You are not allowed to use your awesome celestial powers to spy on my boyfriend whilst he is changing." Jared announced, reminding Jensen that he was having the world's most random conversation whilst wearing only a towel.

Misha leered as Jared steered him to the door of the suite. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

Jensen shook his head and wandered into the bedroom as Jared retaliated. "My awesome powers out-awesome yours. I'll pluck all your feathers out or something."

Leaving them to their supernatural pissing contest, Jensen sought out clothing. If he was going to be humiliated, mocked or outed on stage in front of hundreds of fans, and millions of rabid internet users, he had better look a whole lot better than Jared.

Not that he had to try all that hard. Jared looked like a hobo.

A mentally unstable hobo.

'Well... I'll turn your stupid plaid shirts pink! And give them ruffles!" Misha shouted from the next room.

"And I'll tell Uriel you said he looked like a girl and smelled like a lama!" Was Jared's brilliant response.

Lama. Of course.

Muttering to himself, Jensen climbed into his jeans and smiled at the huge king sized bed. Jared was a total bedhog. He was a human furnace, and stole all the sheets.

Not tonight.

Tonight, Jensen had a strong feeling his immature lover would be sleeping on the couch.

That bed was his, goddamnit.