(I am a big supporter of the Collins family. And in this one Vicky doesn't exist because Misha is a beautiful creature who would never cheat. And we all know that. West and Maison are just so adorable)
(And if you know Misha's e-mail, send this to him. Don't take credit please)
A chef's hat was bestowed upon you the second you were let into Misha's house, his bright smile mirroring West's perfectly; the apple never falls far from the tree.
"You're finally here," Misha greeted you, very dramatically, and you bent down to return the hug that West had enveloped your legs in.
"Hi, Y/N!" he squealed cutely as he clambered into your arms, and you kissed his cheek in response as Misha led you into his kitchen.
He was supposed to going soon, to some meeting with the writers of the show, but he mentioned none of it as he started bringing out things from the fridge and pantry. All of it seemed to not be connected; there was no possible meal he could make with what he was pulling out. West wriggled out of your hands to sit on the counter, reminding Misha of ingredients he forgot.
And then it dawned on you.
"Are you guys making dinner?" you asked, smiling at them knowingly as West picked up a jar of tomato sauce and nodded vigorously.
"Of course we are, and you're going to help," Misha announced, and you didn't disagree.
Before you could ask about his meeting, Misha set up the camera, of course, and placed a kiss on the top of your head as he passed you by. "Those fuckers, Jared and Jensen, cancelled the meeting because they're going on vacation with their families," he told you, shaking his head in mock disappointment. It made you laugh, mostly because you knew Misha was probably relieved to have gotten out of another "boring" meeting, and he was definitely in a good mood if he was filming a new video to share with the world.
"Say hi to the camera, West," Misha said, and West waved quietly as he began opening up all the stuff Misha had brought out. "You too, Y/N."
You waved as well and gave the camera a smile, not sure how else to behave; it was your first time being featured in a video with Misha and West, but it made your heart melt knowing that they were including you.
"Today we're cooking dinner in honor of Jared and Jensen leaving me behind to go on vacation with their families," Misha told the camera with a straight face, but you couldn't keep in your snort. "Y/N thinks the betrayal is funny. She was probably going on vacation, too."
Before you could respond, West interrupted and ripped open a bag of peanut M&M's, effectively spilling them all over the counter, some of them going into the big mixing bowl Misha had brought out. "It's dinner for Y/N," he reminded his dad, and you shared a secret and loving smile with Misha.
"Okay, it's all you, bud," you told West, ruffling his hair as he started combing through each item that was out and ready for him. He'd given Misha a list beforehand, you learned, and thought each one through carefully.
"It matters what ingredient goes in first," Misha told the camera with a curt nod, both of you turning back to West once he chose a jar of tomato sauce, grabbing a big spoon and scooping it in messily.
It always made you smile how okay Misha was with West's messes. You'd always help clean it up, and it usually took quite a while, but to Misha, it was worth it. He was allowing him to spark his own creativity with food. Expression was always important to him and you admired him for that.
"Now that the sauce is both in the mixing bowl and on West's clothes, we can move on," Misha announced, carefully taking the jar and spoon away from West. "What were the measurements, West?"
"I don't know."
"He doesn't know," Misha declared, like some sort of dedicated spokesperson, and you laughed a bit.
Next up, West chose some flour, literally dumping it everywhere. You panicked and swooped in to help him when everyone started coughing, but you ended up laughing and wiping some on your face when you covered your mouth in awe of how much flour had gotten everywhere. Misha snickered lightly at your flour covered face and hair, but you only grabbed some of it from the counter and smeared it on him too, earning a scandalized and overly dramatic gasp.
"We'll be back momentarily," Misha told the camera, turning it off for a little bit so he could help you clean up the floury mess.
"West, you need to use the measuring cups next time with the flour," he told his son, and get a handful of flour to the face in return, from a giggling West. "I think you like making messes. You've been around Y/N too much."
"Hey!" you laughed, bumping your hip with his, but Misha only grinned in response and pulled you in when West was looking away, already looking for more things to put into his masterpiece, and you shared a floury kiss that didn't help clean up your faces at all.
Misha turned the camera back on a few moments later, shrugging nonchalantly at it while West plucked some grapes and tossed them into the mixing bowl, the least messy thing so far.
"We didn't clean up the mess all the way," he said, though it was very obvious, "but we've decided to go on with dinner planning. West is tossing grapes into the mix, for added flavor. Probably. It doesn't matter how many you put in, it all depends on your personal taste."
Sometimes these things went however West wanted them to go, and you watched with a proud smile as the little guy finished with all his ingredients, looking to you and Misha for guidance.
"Mix it," he demanded quietly, shoving the bowl over to you, and you took the reins this time with Misha's silent approval.
"Is there a specific way you're mixing it, Y/N? Everyone needs to know."
You angled the bowl towards the camera and nodded quickly, showing the powdery, sticky mess in the bowl. "You need to mix everything until it's lumpy like this. Don't mash the grapes, they need to stay intact."
"Good call," Misha told you, running a hand through your hair, and you cringed away when you realized it was covered in flour and excess grape juice.
He snickered quietly and the two of you let West finish up his masterpiece all by himself, until he decided to stick it in the freezer to let it freeze for two hours.
"We'll see how that goes," Misha said, exchanging a wide-eyed look with you as he turned off the camera, then helped West stick the bowl into the freezer, sure to be forgotten while you went to pick up a real dinner that was edible.
"Do you like cooking with me?" he asked you as you loaded yourselves into your car, and you were quick to nod.
"It's a real adventure," you laughed, not missing Misha's playful grin.
– – – – – –
It was like an impending doom, hearing that two hour buzzer go off. Misha had kept true to his word and waited a couple of hours to let the concoction settle in the freezer, though you didn't know what it would do; almost ninety percent of the whole thing was composed of grapes, flour, and tomato sauce.
"Oh, that smells ripe," Misha giggled as he held the camera up, watching you take out the bowl with oven mitts. West felt that oven mitts were essential to revealing the final creation.
All it took was one whiff from all three of you collectively to decide that this was not a creation you'd be taste testing this time.
"Good job, though," you encouraged him, setting the bowl on the counter so Misha could really zoom in on it.
The camera was off and West was asleep minutes later, glad to not have to try that sticky dinner, and it left you and Misha alone for the night.
"I dare you," he said suddenly while you were getting out some wine, and you raised a brow.
"To what?"
"You know what."
He was smiling like a goofball, nodding towards the bowl that had now been dumped in the sink, about to be rinsed out before the two of you went upstairs to shower off all the flour and sleep for the night.
You resisted the urge to groan or roll your eyes, taking a sip of wine instead, and then pointed to Misha. "If anyone has the balls, it's you," was all you said, and Misha stood proudly, walking to the sink to dip a finger into the bowl.
"I get a reward, right?" he asked, and you smiled in response.
"Only if you describe it all in a lot of detail."
He ended up smearing it on your face and still had the audacity to ask for a reward.
"Misha!"
"It takes a soldier to even touch it. I deserve recognition!"
