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Cruel Complication

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Misha

At first he'd told Jensen he was into rock climbing. After Jensen had become interested and asked a few too many questions, Misha had changed his story, telling Jensen the stunts on the show were the cause of all his bruises. Jensen had frowned and made a comment about stunt men and how that was their job, not his. Misha had laughed it off, saying he was a stubborn man who wanted to do everything himself.

That worked for a while, but lately Jensen's been looking at him like maybe he doesn't quite believe him. He doesn't know if Jensen has been watching with the rest of the crew when he does his stunts, but whatever the reason, Misha knows he needs to come up with another reason.

*

Misha

Jensen's fingers were gentle as he spread the makeup over a yellowing bruise on Misha's right forearm. Misha was glad they were only making him wear a T-shirt today and letting him keep the jeans instead of insisting on shorts. His left leg looked worse than his right arm.

“That scene yesterday,” Jensen said, almost absentmindedly as he works, “you were awesome in it!”

Misha chuckled. “Was that before or after I fell onto the set designer?”

Jensen smiled, his eyes focused on his task. “She didn't mind. In fact, I saw her cop a feel.”

Misha snorted. “Yeah, she did.”

“But seriously,” Jensen said, a quick glance up at Misha, “it was a really intense scene and you gave me chills when you said that last line.”

Misha felt himself blush. It surprised him that he still had the ability to blush after everything he'd done over the last few years. “Thank you, Jensen.”

Jensen finished applying the makeup to his right forearm and moved on to Misha's hair. “You got any plans for the four-day weekend we got coming up?” he asked.

Misha shivered without meaning to. “Uhm, yeah, kinda,” he said, keeping his eyes on the dressing table in front of him. If he looked at Jensen now, he might not be able to keep his emotions to himself.

“Anything exciting?” Jensen asked, rubbing gel into Misha's hair.

“James is taking me to Venice Beach,” he said, hoping his voice didn't reveal too much.

“California?” Jensen asked as he added more gel. “It's beautiful down there. You ever been there?”

“A couple times,” Misha said.

“Do you guys hang out at the beach or are you the type of guy who likes go shopping when you're there?” Jensen asked.

“James has a beach house down there,” Misha said. “We've stayed there a few times. I don't really like shopping, but James does, so we'll probably hit a few shops.”

“What do you like to do?” Jensen asked, grabbing a can of hairspray.

“I really like to read,” Misha said. “The beach house is beautiful, and I like sitting out on the porch and just reading for hours, listening to the waves and the seagulls.”

Jensen hummed. “Sounds nice.”

Misha would've agreed years ago. Not anymore.

*

Jensen

“How did your vacation go?” Jensen asked as Misha sat down on the chair. He looked more stressed than he'd been before he left earlier in the week. Jensen didn't want to push, but he was concerned.

Misha winced. “We got a little rough,” he said, holding his left arm out to Jensen.

Jensen hissed. There was a dark bruise around his wrist. “I'm going to have to cover that up for the scene later today.”

Misha nodded. “Yeah. Sorry I made more work for you.”

“No problem,” Jensen said with a small smile. He really didn't mind spending more time with Misha. What he did mind was that Misha always came in with little cuts and bruises. Misha always had an excuse for them, but Jensen had stopped buying into them a long time ago. “What happened?” he asked.

Misha chuckled nervously. “We tried handcuffs in the bedroom.”

Jensen frowned. “I've tried handcuffs in the bedroom too and my wrists didn't look like that.”

Misha smirked. “If you'd lost the key while you were waiting for your boyfriend who never showed up and you had to yank a California king-sized bed across the floor so you could get to your cell phone and call for help, then yes, your wrists would look like this.”

Jensen chuckled. “Oh, I see. Wait, didn't James go to Venice Beach with you?”

“He did,” Misha said with a nod, “but he was shopping when I thought he'd planned on spending the day with me.”

“Oh,” Jensen said, unable to keep from sounding very disappointed for Misha.

“It was my fault,” Misha said with a grin. “I should've looked at his schedule. He had the whole day blocked out for shopping and I forgot he'd told me that I could stay home and catch up on my reading that day.”

It seemed reasonable enough, but it also seemed practiced and convenient. Jensen knew Misha usually had James' schedule memorized. He always knew where the man was.

“Okay, well, let's get this covered up so you can walk around in a T-shirt,” Jensen said. “You got a little sun while you were away. It makes your eyes seem even more blue.”

Misha blushed. “Thank you,” he said.

Jensen loved making Misha blush. The man was charming in an odd way, something that drew Jensen in, along with a lot of other people, but when he blushed he became almost irresistible.

*

Misha

“What did you just say to me?” James hissed, his hand wrapped around Misha's neck.

Misha relaxed into the hold. Any resistance would only end badly for him. And he knew Jensen would already have to cover the finger-shaped bruises on his neck.

“I said I didn't mean to flirt with her,” Misha said, his hands coming up to gently hold James' sides, hoping to soothe the man.

“But you did,” James said, squeezing Misha's neck as he said the last word.

Misha winced. He never could win arguments with James, so admitting he'd done something and taking his punishment was the best way to go. He really didn't flirt with Samantha, but James thought he did, so he did.

“I know, and I'm sorry,” Misha said. “She looked so pretty in that gown, and I just wanted her to know that she'd made a good choice in the color and style.”

“You touched her,” James said, his voice getting softer, which always meant things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.

Misha's stomach clenched. He didn't remember touching Samantha. James would see the fear in his eyes and think it was because he felt guilty over the situation.

“Do you want to hurt me?” James asked, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what you want? Do I not give you enough attention?”

Misha sighed. “I was jealous of the time you spent with Jared,” he said, wondering when his life had turned into nothing but lies. “You were with him all night and didn't even look my way.”

James had talked with Jared for a while, but Misha didn't mind. He knew James only had eyes for him. It's part of what made Misha fall in love with him in the first place. All the beautiful stars around them constantly and all James cared about was Misha.

“Jared is my co-star,” James said calmly. “I was talking with him about our upcoming scenes. That doesn't excuse your behavior.”

Misha nodded, wincing when James leaned in closer, pushing him against the wall hard enough that the wainscoting was digging into his back. “I know, James. And I'm sorry. I just thought if I made you a little jealous, you'd spend time with me.”

James huffed out a laugh. “You're playing with fire, boy,” he said as he let go of Misha's neck. “You know how much I love you, and you embarrassed me in front of a roomful of people. Not to mention how much it hurt to see you treating our relationship like garbage.”

“I'm sorry,” Misha said. “It was a stupid thing to do. I was never going to do anything with her. I just wanted your attention,” he said as he wrapped his arms around James' middle, leaning in to place soft kisses on James' jawline. “I missed you,” he whispered into James' ear.

“You're sorry?” James asked, his right hand palming Misha's crotch.

Misha nodded. “Yes,” he said, then kissed the corner of James' mouth.

“Then you'll show me how sorry you are by getting the toy box out from the closet,” he said.

Misha shivered, his breath catching in his chest. He pushed his face into James' neck, grabbing handfuls of James' button-down shirt. “James, please,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.”

“Do I have to repeat myself?” James asked, his voice deadly calm.

Misha's eyes burned, but he took a cleansing breath, gathering up the courage he needed. “No. I'll go get it.”

“That's my boy,” James said, sounding very pleased. He kissed Misha's cheek and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the closet.

*

Jensen

Misha had a very slight limp as he walked up to the chair, and Jensen was pretty sure he saw him wince when he sat down.

“You okay?” Jensen asked, eyes taking in every detail.

Misha nodded, a smile on his face. “Yeah. You ever have one of those nights where the sex is so good you feel it the next day?”

Jensen's eyes widened as he saw the bruises on Misha's neck. It was obvious they were from someone holding Misha's neck tightly, and Jensen knew exactly who it was that had done it.

“You've got a scene today where you're going to be injured and your shirt's going to be shredded,” Jensen said.

Misha froze. “I don't remember reading that,” he said.

Jensen nodded. “Yeah, I'm going to need you to take your shirt off so I can see if I need to cover anything up.”

Misha seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes wide as he stared at Jensen. Then something changed, his eyes narrowing. “That isn't in the script,” he said, then grinned. “You just want to check out my awesome abs.”

Jensen forced a chuckle as Misha lifted the front of his shirt, showing off his non-existent six-pack abs. “Okay, here's the deal. I think you've got more shit that needs to be covered up, and there's going to be a couple action scenes today, so I don't think you want your shirt riding up without some makeup covering what you've got.”

Misha stared at him, almost as if he was trying to figure out what Jensen was really after. Finally he nodded. “Okay. You'll have to cover the bruise I got yesterday while I was training for the scene I've got coming up next month,” he said as he sat forward and pulled his shirt over his head.

Jensen tried to keep his emotions in check, but it was hard when he saw the large bruise covering Misha's left upper back. He started applying the makeup, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a way to help Misha.

Misha had always been full of life, friendly to pretty much everyone, and truly seemed to care about things that most people in Hollywood just didn't give a shit about. It hurt to see someone take everything that Misha could offer and destroy it.

“Is it just rough sex?” Jensen asked, keeping his voice low.

Misha didn't answer him for a few moments, and just as Jensen thought he'd never get an answer, Misha sighed.

“I really do get hurt doing stunts,” Misha said, sounding tired. “And I get hurt when I'm training for those stunts, but yes, some of what you cover is from rough sex.”

Jensen nodded even though Misha wasn't looking at him in the mirror. “Is it what you want or what he wants?” he asked.

“I like rough sex,” Misha said.

Jensen bit his lip, his chest feeling tight because of the non-answer he'd just received. He worked in silence for a while, finishing up Misha's back. “You can put your shirt on again.”

Misha pulled his shirt back on while Jensen put away the makeup and grabbed the hair gel. “It's a little rougher than I'd normally prefer, but in the end we both get off,” he said to Jensen's back.

Jensen turned around, the gel in his hand. “I don't want to see you get hurt,” he said softly.

By the look on his face, Misha knew Jensen didn't just mean the injuries he'd been sustaining so far. He was worried it would escalate and also that James was doing more than physical damage.

“He loves me,” Misha said firmly, though not viciously.

Jensen nodded thoughtfully, letting the words sink in. “Do you still love him?” he asked.

Misha's eyes widened, and Jensen could see that the question was one he hadn't asked himself in a while. Jensen's stomach clenched as he saw the truth hit Misha right before his eyes.

“I do,” Misha lied.

Jensen forced a smile. “As long as you still love and trust him, then everything else will work itself out, right?”

Misha didn't answer as Jensen squirted some gel onto his fingers before running his hands through Misha's hair.

*

Misha

He walked in the front door of their home, very tried from a full day on the set with two very emotional scenes, and the smells coming from the kitchen made him smile. He loved when James cooked for him. James was amazing in the kitchen, but more than that, it meant James wasn't upset about anything and they were going to spend time just the two of them, talking and enjoying a great meal.

“Hey, baby,” James said over his shoulder, stirring something in a large pot.

“Hey,” Misha said, walking up behind the love of his life and wrapping his arms around him, kissing the back of James' neck.

“Long day?” James asked, his left hand coming back to rub circles on Misha's left hip.

“Yeah,” Misha said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against James' back.

“Oh, you had that scene where Genevieve confronts you about the missing gold,” James said, tapping the spoon on the side of the pot to get the excess liquid off, then setting it to the side. He turned around, then wrapped Misha in his arms.

“Yeah,” Misha said, melting against James.

“I'm sorry, baby,” James said softly, kissing the side of Misha's head. “I know those kinds of scenes can be rough.”

“Yeah,” Misha repeated, smiling against James' shirt. “It's a good thing I have you to come home to, spoiling me by cooking and holding me while I complain about my day even though you worked today too.”

James chuckled. “I'd better not spoil you too much. Are you too tired to set the table?”

Misha pulled back, smiling at James. “No, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” James said, placing a little kiss on Misha's cheek. “Set the table for three,” he said, then turned around and opened the package of steaks.

“Three?” Misha asked, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.

James nodded. “Sebastian is joining us tonight.”

“Oh, is he coming over to run lines with you?” Misha asked as he pulled three plates out of the cupboard.

“No, it's not for business,” James said, setting the steaks down on the pan to seer them.

“Oh, okay,” Misha said with a frown.

He really hadn't been in the mood to entertain tonight, but it would be rude to take it out on Sebastian. He wished it was someone else, maybe Jared or one of James' other costars. Sebastian always made his skin crawl, and his eyes always lingered on Misha a little too long. He knew James wouldn't put up with anything more than lingering looks, but it would also mean that James might think Misha was flirting with Sebastian.

Just as Misha set the last wine glass on the table, the doorbell rang. “I'll get it,” he said.

“Thanks,” James said with a smile. “I need to stay with the steaks.”

“Well, hello,” Sebastian said as Misha opened the door.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Misha said, forcing a smile. He was really too worn out from the day to be his normally pleasant self.

“Sebastian is so formal,” he said. “Why don't you call me Seb, hmm?”

Misha nodded. “Okay. Care to join us in the kitchen? James is almost finished with the steaks.”

Seb smiled, then gestured for Misha to lead the way. “It smells wonderful, Jimmy,” Seb said as he walked into the kitchen.

Misha hid his smirk by quickly turning to open the wine. James hated being called Jimmy or Jim. He ignored the inane banter and discussion of work-related things while he set the wine in a bucket of ice, allowing it to breathe.

He tried not to be too disappointed over their dinner guest, but as they sat down to dinner and the conversation dragged on, he found himself checking out. James was in a good mood, which didn't happen all that often, and he had to share it with Sebastian. He couldn't help feeling a little bitter about it.

“I'll clear the dishes,” Misha said as he pushed his chair back.

“Oh, no,” Sebastian said, quickly standing up. “The two of you invited me into your lovely home and fed me a delicious dinner. The least I can do is clean up and give you two a moment.”

Misha smiled his thanks, then frowned at James as the rest of what Seb said filtered through. James stood up and held his hand out to Misha. Misha didn't hesitate, taking James' hand and standing up himself. James led him down the hallway to their bedroom, leaving behind the sounds of the dishes being washed.

James smiled at him, then brushed his fingers over Misha's cheek. “You have five minutes to use the restroom, remove all your clothes, and present yourself on your knees in the middle of the room.”

Misha blinked at James for a moment, confused and a little nervous. “Don't you want me to say goodnight to Sebastian?” he asked.

James shook his head. “Sebastian isn't leaving.”

Misha winced. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but waiting out the rest of the night on his knees was better than the alternative. James didn't tell him to get the box out of the closet.

“Okay,” Misha said, then headed into the bathroom.

It didn't take him long to clean up and strip. He threw his clothes into the hamper and took his position on the rug. James enjoyed making things kinky, but he wasn't all that into BDSM. They played with some things and Misha liked pleasing James in the bedroom, but other than some light bondage and a few toys, that was it.

He sat on his heels, relaxing his posture because James just wasn't that strict, and he knew sitting in perfect position for however long James and Sebastian decided to talk would become uncomfortable. His mind drifted, going over some scenes for the upcoming week and wondering if he and James would get any time to try out the new restaurant in town later in the week.

When James walked in, Misha smiled up at him, but then he saw Sebastian following closely behind. He gasped as he covered his crotch with his hands. He must've really fucked up if James decided to bring Sebastian in on the reprimand. It wasn't often James gave him a hard time in front of other people, and he'd never done anything quite like this. Misha felt his face flush and he tried to keep his eyes on James instead of Sebastian.

James crouched down next to him, wrapping his left hand around the back of Misha's head in a gentle gesture. Misha leaned into the touch.

“I told Seb about your little problem,” James said quietly. “I told him you'd been feeling neglected lately, that you'd been flirting and begging for more attention, so he agreed to help me out.”

Misha's eyes widened and he shivered. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to ask, didn't want to know. But he had to. “What do you mean?” he asked.

James gave him a sad smile. “Well, I'm obviously not enough for you, baby,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the skin just below Misha's right ear. “Seb has been kind enough to give you all the attention you need for tonight.”

Misha glanced at Sebastian and felt his stomach clench as he saw the man leering at him. He looked into James' eyes and shook his head. “I'm sorry, James. You're enough for me. It was just a stupid little game. I get everything I need from you.”

James chuckled. “Now don't lie,” he scolded. “It's okay that I'm not enough, but I wouldn't be a very good lover if I didn't see to it that you received everything you needed.”

Misha felt as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. He'd lied to cover his ass by admitting to flirting when he really hadn't and it had backfired on him. He couldn't have imagined such a ridiculous scenario. His eyes burned, and he reached out, grabbing James' shoulders, not caring anymore that he was exposing himself.

“You're enough!” Misha said. “I swear you're enough! I'm sorry I flirted. I won't do it ever again. I love you, James,” he said desperately.

James' facial expression changed from indulgence to fucking pissed in the blink of an eye. He leaned in close, putting his lips to Misha's ear. “Are you refusing a gift? I'm doing this for you. Do you think I like doing this? Do you think this isn't ripping my heart out, allowing someone else to touch you? Don't you fucking dare throw this back in my face.”

Misha closed his eyes, the tension leaving him as he realized what he'd gotten himself into. This was his fault. If he would've fought for it, if he would've insisted he wasn't flirting, James wouldn't have done this. He should've shown James he was the only one Misha ever needed.

“Thank you, James,” Misha whispered.

James pulled away, and when Misha opened his eyes, James had a soft smile on his face. “I knew you'd appreciate it once you realized what I've sacrificed for you.”

Misha nodded. “I do,” he said.

James stood up and made his way to the overstuffed chair in the corner of their room, sitting down and crossing his legs. “Have fun, baby,” he said to Misha.

Sebastian slowly walked to him, and when Misha looked up at him, Sebastian was smiling. “Hello, honey,” he said.

Misha glanced at James, making sure James wasn't going to change his mind. James was only watching them with a calm and casual air about him.

“Are you ready to have fun?” Sebastian asked.

Misha forced a smile, nodded, then stood up. His hands shook as he started to undress Sebastian. His eyes were burning, his throat felt tight, and his stomach was churning so badly he wondered if he'd lose his dinner.

Later that night, as Misha's head was hanging off the end of the bed, Sebastian pounding into him for what seemed like hours, Misha looked at James again and felt the last of his heart break. He knew that look on James' face. He had his cock in his hand and was slowly stroking himself. James was getting off on what he was seeing.

James didn't look upset, he didn't seem to be nearly as hurt as he'd claimed earlier, and Misha finally realized James was doing this for himself.

Misha had always believed James was just a different kind of guy. Because he was. He had odd taste in clothing, hobbies, entertainment, and even in lovers. It was yet another reason Misha had fallen for him. He wasn't the cliche so many stars were. So when James had behaved nothing like the others Misha had dated, it was refreshing and really fucking attractive.

He wasn't stupid. He knew James wasn't the nicest guy around, and he knew James shouldn't do some of the things he did to Misha, but everything else always made up for it in Misha's mind. It was hard to find someone to love in a world where he was recognized and fake people were ready to give their fake love to him at the drop of a hat.

But with James, he'd always felt loved, cherished, and he'd felt as if he had someone who really knew him and loved him what he was.

Not anymore.

James knew exactly what he was doing. He was hurting Misha and didn't give a damn because he was having a good time.

Misha's lungs refused to work until he saw black spots floating around. He'd never fallen out of love so quickly before, had never been able to pinpoint the exact moment his feelings for someone completely soured and died.

*

Jensen

Jensen nearly gasped as Misha walked in. He had dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders were slumped, and instead of greeting Jensen, he just sat down in the chair. He looked broken in a completely new way. Jensen walked around the chair and stood in front of Misha, his stomach clenching when Misha just looked right through him.

“Misha?” Jensen said softly.

Misha flinched and looked up as if he'd forgotten where he was. “Hello,” he said, then glanced at the makeup desk. “I'm ready.”

Jensen reached out and put his hand on Misha's left forearm, a gentle touch with no intent other than to comfort a friend. “Are you okay?” he asked, feeling stupid as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Of course Misha wasn't okay. But it was the only thing he could think of to say.

Misha nodded. “Yeah. I'm okay,” he said, and even his voice sounded flat and dead. “I've got some bruises to cover up on my right upper arm and my right flank.”

Jensen squeezed Misha's arm, shocked even more at the lack of excuses for his bruises. “Misha?”

“Yeah?” Misha responded, looking very lost.

“Door's closed. It's just you and me,” Jensen said with a shrug. “You can tell me anything.”

Misha's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but he didn't say anything. The lost look in his eyes was devastating to look at. Jensen held his breath as Misha's eyes filled with tears and his mouth slowly closed.

“I...,” Misha started, but a couple of tears fell, running down his face. He let out a huff, as if he couldn't even fathom what was going on and it all seemed absurd. “Have you ever realized with sudden and startling clarity that the love you once had for someone is completely gone, ripped away from you like a physical thing, and it has no chance of being recovered?”

Jensen nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“What did you do?” Misha asked, and he sounded small, so scared and alone.

Jensen shrugged. “I moved out and swore to myself I'd never let anyone else make me feel the way he did.”

Misha stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “And did you? Ever let someone else make you feel that way?”

Jensen shook his head. “No. But I'm not going to lie and tell you no one else ever tried. I felt like a fuckin' magnet for assholes for a while, but I'd decided not to let people do that to me, and once I'd made that decision, it was easier to cut them out of my life. I was stronger because I was doing what was right for me. I have a lot to offer someone if they'd just appreciate it, just like I'm pretty sure you've got a lot to offer, and I refuse to waste it on someone who doesn't deserve it.”

Misha slowly nodded. “I don't think I know how to do that yet, but I know that's where I want to be.”

Jensen gave him a small smile. “Ask me anything,” he said. “I'm willing to help.”

Misha wiped the tears from his face and took a cleansing breath. “I have nowhere to go,” he said. “My whole life is James and my career. I don't know where to start or what to do.”

“My place has three bedrooms,” Jensen said. “You can stay with me while you figure out what you want to do. It'd give you a place to think.”

Misha smiled. It was small, but it was a start. “You don't have to offer that.”

“No, I don't,” Jensen agreed.

Misha's smile got just a little bigger before it fell. “James is going to be pissed.”

Jensen grinned at him. “Do I look like I scare easily?” he asked.

Misha chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you don't.”

“And you know who else doesn't scare easily and would be willing to help out?” Jensen asked.

“Who?” Misha asked.

“That big, goofy guy that works with James on a daily basis,” Jensen said with a snort.

“Jared?” Misha asked with a frown. “Why would he help?”

Jensen chuckled. “Because he thinks James is a total asshole and that you could do a whole Hell of a lot better than him.”

Misha's eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “Is that why he distracts James whenever we're at a function together?”

Jensen laughed. “Yeah. He doesn't like how James stalks around and watches you like a hawk.”

Misha smiled sadly. “Yeah, I didn't realize until very recently that James looks for excuses to accuse me of flirting. I didn't realize he was enjoying what he did to me,” he said, then winced and looked down as if he'd blurted more than he'd meant to.

Jensen's phone chirped, letting him know he had a text. He pulled it out of his pocket with the hand not currently on Misha's arm. “It's Jared,” Jensen said with a huff of laughter. “He says James is strutting around looking particularly pompous today. Jared wants to know if you're okay.”

Misha frowned up at him. “Are you two good friends?”

Jensen nodded. “I said my house has three rooms. He occupies one of those rooms. We knew each other back in Texas, and when we met up here, we decided to move in together because we missed home and didn't have any friends. It's a comfort to know you have someone to come home to at night even if they're nothing more than a friend.”

Misha smiled. “Sounds nice.”

Jensen snorted. “Most of the time it is. Sometimes he's a pain in the ass.”

Misha chuckled. “Who isn't?” he said with a shrug.

“Hey,” Jensen said, his expression serious once again, “if James has a problem with this, we can work around it. We'll help you get your stuff moved, whether it's to our house or someplace else, and we'll deal with the fallout together, okay?”

Misha nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Jensen,” he said, then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Jensen's middle.

Jensen was surprised, but he didn't pull away. He put his arms around Misha, returning the embrace. He heard Misha sniff a few times, but didn't say anything, just held onto him while the rest of the world went about their business.

*

Misha

It had hurt when James brushed him off like their relationship had meant nothing, but at the same time it was a relief. If James had fought him or tried to retaliate in some way, Misha would've had to deal with the fallout.

Instead he found a new home with Jared and Jensen. Jared turned out to be a great guy and the three of them got along well living under one roof. He'd been living there for over five weeks already.

Jared had fallen asleep about a half hour ago, his face smashed into the armrest of the overstuffed chair he was sitting in. Jensen was nodding off next to Misha on the couch. Misha wasn't really all that interested in the movie, but it was something to do, and he didn't feel tired at all.

Jensen moaned in his half-asleep state, then leaned over and rested his head against Misha's left arm. Misha chuckled as Jensen snuggled up against him, getting comfortable and falling asleep. When the movie was over, Misha started another one, still not tired himself and enjoying the way Jensen's body warmed him.

Misha sighed, the movie quickly becoming boring and stupid, so he flipped around on the local stations for a while. Just as he was considering getting up and heading for bed, Jensen startled awake.

“Dude, why didn't you shove my drooling face off your arm?” Jensen slurred, frowning at the wet spot on Misha's shirt.

Misha snorted. “I don't care if you drooled all over me.”

Jensen grinned at him, still only half awake. “Well, what if I like drooling all over you?”

Misha knew Jensen hadn't meant anything by it, but it still made his cock twitch in his jeans. “Then you can feel free to do so,” Misha replied.

“Awesome,” Jensen said with a goofy smile, then rubbed his nose on Misha's shirt. “You smell good.”

“So do you,” Misha said.

Jensen looked up at him, searching his eyes, his face. Misha wasn't sure what Jensen was looking for, but he just waited him out. “I'm tired,” Jensen said with a pout.

Misha chuckled. “Maybe you should go to bed.”

Jensen winced. “It's lonely in there.”

Misha's chest was suddenly tight. He wanted this. He really did. But he didn't want Jensen to be a rebound relationship. Jensen licked his lips and Misha's resolve crumbled.

“It would be less lonely in my bed,” Misha said, going for casual and slightly flirty, but most likely failing and instead coming off as horny.

Jensen's smile made the tightness in his chest go away. “That's a big offer,” Jensen said.

Misha smiled back. “Then it's a good thing I mean it.” Jensen's smile was even bigger.

“Oh, my God, would you two just fuck already?” Jared moaned.

Misha chuckled, then grinned when he saw a blush spreading over Jensen's face. “You heard the man,” Misha said with a shrug.

Jensen rolled his eyes at Jared. “Do people actually find you charming?”

Jared flashed a smile. “Yup. And so do you,” he said, fluttering his eyelashes.

“No, I don't,” Jensen grumbled.

“Yeah, you do,” Jared said. “Now get up there and fuck each other's brains out before I drag you up there myself.”

Misha stood up, grabbing Jensen's arm and pulling him along. “Goodnight, Jared,” Misha said, a grin on his face as Jensen stumbled along behind him.

“Have fun, guys!” Jared yelled.

Jensen was on him the moment Misha closed the bedroom door, kissing him as he ran his hands over Misha's arms, his sides, his neck. Misha moaned into the kiss. Suddenly Jensen pulled back.

“Sorry,” Jensen said, wincing. “I know everybody's different, but after I broke up with my ex, I didn't want anyone being pushy with me even though I actually enjoy rough sex from time to time. I'm going to let you set the speed, okay?”

Instead of replying with words, Misha grabbed Jensen's shirt and yanked him close, taking his lips in a kiss as he shoved Jensen against the door, pushing his right leg between Jensen's. Jensen shivered and whined, immediately on board with the whole thing.

“I wanna fuck you,” Misha said, pulling back from the kiss just long enough to say the words, then devouring Jensen again as soon as he was done.

Jensen was already unbuttoning Misha's jeans and pulling the zipper down, and if that wasn't enough to tell Misha he liked the idea, Jensen kissed his way to Misha's neck, saying “yes” over and over again.

Misha tugged on Jensen's shirt, chuckling when Jensen started wriggling and Misha was able to pull the T-shirt over Jensen's head and toss it to the floor.

“Do you have lube?” Misha asked, then bit down on Jensen's neck.

“Ah! Fuck!” Jensen yelped, humping against Misha's leg. “Yeah, I-ah! Yeah, I got tons of that.”

Misha grabbed Jensen by the back of the neck and shoved him toward the bed. Jensen chuckled as he tripped and fell onto the bed, landing on his side.

“It was considerate of you to wear your sleep pants so I could,” Misha said, then yanked the pants off Jensen, flipping Jensen over onto his back in the process, “do that!”

Jensen grabbed Misha by the arm and pulled him down. Misha went willingly, falling on top of Jensen and grinding down on Jensen's crotch, Jensen gasping at the rough treatment because Misha's jeans were still on.

“I wore these sleep pants because you stare at my ass when I have them on,” Jensen said with a grin.

Misha smirked down at him. “You've been trying to seduce me,” he said with mock seriousness. “I'll have to do something about that,” he said, then turned them so they were both lying on their sides, wrapped around one another. Misha then gave Jensen's ass a good smack.

“Hey!” Jensen yelped, trying to cover his ass, but it didn't help. Misha gave him another good smack.

Misha could feel Jensen's hard length poking into him, and it twitched after the second smack, so Misha assumed Jensen was getting a kick out of this. “You were naughty,” Misha rumbled.

Jensen laughed, squirming against Misha. “You just wanted an excuse to touch my ass!” he said in between chuckles.

“You're right,” Misha said, then pushed his fingers between Jensen's ass cheeks, grinning when Jensen moaned and relaxed against him.

“Get your clothes off,” Jensen said, tugging at Misha's shirt.

“Uh-uh,” Misha said, running his fingers over Jensen's hole. “I'm gonna fuck you right like this, all my clothes on and you completely naked and coming apart underneath me.”

Jensen's breath caught in his chest, and Misha felt a momentary surge of panic as Jensen gazed up at him, a knowing look in his eyes. Jensen knew some of what Misha had been through, he'd lived his own version of it a few years ago, and he knew Misha needed to get the control back. Misha didn't know how Jensen would react to being the person Misha used to reestablish his control over his sex life, and if Jensen didn't want that, Misha was scared he'd risk losing a good friend.

“Sounds fuckin' hot,” Jensen said with a grin.

Misha finally remembered to breathe again, and between the rush of oxygen and adrenaline, he was harder than ever and needed to be inside Jensen.

“Lube's under the pillow,” Jensen said.

Misha frowned, only just then realizing they were in Jensen's bedroom and not his. The rooms were different, including their beds, so the fact that he hadn't registered that yet meant he was nearly completely focused on Jensen.

Misha reached up and felt under the pillow for the lube. He flicked the top open as he kissed and nibbled at Jensen's neck, his right thigh pushing against Jensen's crotch to give him some stimulation. He didn't bother watching what he was doing, and instead just squirted some lube into his palm and let the tube fall to the bed. He pressed against Jensen's hole with two fingers, rubbing the lube around and enjoying the way Jensen moaned and hissed.

“C'mon,” Jensen said, trying to push down against Misha's fingers. “Fuck me already!”

Misha chuckled, then shoved two fingers in, grinning when Jensen hissed. “Pushy.”

“I just want to get fucked,” Jensen grumbled. “This foreplay has gone on for months.”

Misha laughed, using his body weight to hold Jensen in place while he found his prostate and pushed. Jensen's body jerked beneath him and he let out a needy noise.

“Misha, c'mon! Please!” Jensen said, wriggling. “I'm not a virgin, here!”

Misha's cock twitched, and he decided that, if Jensen was okay with this, then there was no reason to keep either of them waiting. They could go slow another time. Misha pulled his fingers out and reached into his jeans, grabbing his cock and getting lubed up. He pushed into Jensen's hole as he rolled on top of him, quickly setting up a rhythm and making the bed squeak.

“Yeah! Fuck, yeah!” Jensen said, wrapping his legs around Misha.

Misha was so close already that he knew he wouldn't last long. It didn't matter. Jensen was here with him and Misha was calling this shots this time. He fucked Jensen faster, encouraged by the moans and panting coming from Jensen.

Jensen reached between them to stroke himself with his right hand while he reached up and took a handful of Misha's hair with his left, pulling him down to lick at his mouth and suck on his tongue.

Misha wanted it to last longer, but it felt too good. Just as he was about to come, he heard Jensen whimper and felt Jensen's asshole clenching around him. It set his own orgasm off and the two came within seconds of each other, Misha fucking Jensen so hard the head of the bed was smacking into the wall.

He flopped down onto Jensen, lazily kissing his neck and basking in the afterglow, Jensen's warm, wet hole still clenching around him.

“If you give me about a half hour,” Jensen said, sounding thoroughly fucked and sated, “I can go again when we take a shower.”

Misha chuckled. “I have to get up early tomorrow for a scene,” he reminded Jensen.

Jensen huffed. “Fine. I'll just have to wake you up early for some fun.”

“First I have to clean you up,” Misha said as he gently pulled out of Jensen.

Jensen moaned at the loss and scooted up further on the bed so he could rest his head on the pillow, but before he could make it up there, Misha grabbed his legs and flipped him onto his stomach.

“You're ready to go already?” Jensen asked, sounding amused.

Misha spread Jensen's cheeks. “Nope.”

“Oh, fuck!” Jensen yelped as Misha started eating out his hole. He squirmed, his cock twitching against the bed as Misha sucked and licked, the sounds messy and dirty in just the right way.

Jensen couldn't even speak, only moan as he pushed his face into his pillow and spread his legs. By the time Misha was done, Jensen was boneless and whimpering. Misha sat back and gave Jensen's ass a smack.

“Now you're clean,” Misha said with a grin, getting off the bed and using Jensen's T-shirt to wipe himself off.

Jensen turned his head, peaking up at Misha with a grin on his face. “That was awesome,” he said.

Misha chuckled, pulling his clothes off and getting into bed. He wrapped his arms around Jensen and they were asleep soon after.

*

Jared

He wasn't interested in Jensen or Misha, but last night the two of them had sounded so hot that Jared had jerked off to the noises they'd made. He whistled as he walked out the front door to grab the mail and the newspaper.

Jared really liked Misha, and he thought the two of them made a great couple. They fit together well, and they seemed to fill a void in each other. He'd nearly demanded they fuck only a week after Misha had moved in, but he'd controlled himself, trying to ignore the longing looks between the two.

But all was right. His best friend was happy in a way he hadn't been in a long time.

Jared picked up the paper and froze, leaning over in an awkward position. “Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head and standing up again. He walked into the house, reading the article as he went.

He could hear Jensen cooking breakfast and Misha talking about something in the kitchen, so Jared took a cleansing breath and walked in. He set the newspaper down on the table in front of Misha, then put his hands on Misha's shoulders, squeezing just a little in support of his new friend and roommate.

Misha tensed, whatever he'd been talking about forgotten. Jensen turned around, frowning. Jared gave him a look that said 'get over here and help me support this guy!' Jensen nodded, moved the pan off the burner, then sat down at the table next to Misha.

All three of them stared at the newspaper, Jared reading it over Misha's shoulder even though he'd read it not five minutes ago. The headline said it all, but until the shock wore off, the three of them could do nothing but stare anyway.

“James Patrick Stuart,” Misha read out loud in a monotone, “was arrested Thursday night on charges of voluntary manslaughter in the death of Osric Chau. Mr. Stuart is also being charged with the assault and battery of Richard Speight, Jr. Mr. Speight has announced he is prepared to make a statement later this morning after having witnessed the assault and subsequent murder of Mr. Chau, both having been guests in Mr. Stuart's home. Mr. Stuart's lawyer has announced there will be no statements from his client.”

The silence that followed should've been uncomfortable, but it really wasn't. Jared could feel Misha's body relaxing under his hands. It was horrible, tragic, but there was nothing that could be done other than hope it was enough to keep James in prison for a long time.

All three of them flinched when Misha's phone rang. When Misha picked it up, he gasped and immediately swiped his finger over the screen to answer it.

“Richard?” Misha said, his voice tense.

Jared looked down at Jensen, wishing he could hear Richard's side of the conversation, but all they could do was wait.

After a few minutes of silence from Misha, he finally spoke. “I'm going to text you an address. I want you to come here,” he said.

Misha turned and looked at his roommates, silently asking for permission after the fact. Both Jensen and Jared nodded and Misha gave them a small smile of thanks.

“Yes, now,” Misha said. “No, I'm okay. I need to know you're okay and nobody would be able to find you here. It would give you a chance to relax away from the mess.”

Jared sat down next to Misha, putting one hand on Misha's leg, noting that Jensen had a hand on Misha's left forearm.

“Richard,” Misha said firmly, “just come here.” He sounded a little frustrated, then sighed. “Please.”

That must've done the trick because Misha's shoulders relaxed again and he nodded, said his goodbye, then set the phone on the table.

“Thank you,” Misha said. “Both of you.”

“No problem,” Jared said.

“He can stay here as long as he wants,” Jensen said.

Misha nodded, then looked down at the table. He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I know it's not my fault, and that's not why I'm saying this, but I knew he was going to do something. I just figured whatever he did would be to me, not anyone else.”

Jensen leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Misha. Jared couldn't take it any longer and joined in on the hug.

“Richard and I dated a few years ago,” Misha said. “James knew about it. He also knew Osric had asked me out the last time he was on the set, playing a guest spot on the series.”

There was nothing Jared could say to fix it, nothing that would help his friend other than to be there for him, to be there for Richard when he came to the house. Whatever the two of them needed, Jared would make it happen, and he knew Jensen felt the same way without asking.

Jared was already planning in his head for all the things they needed to do. He'd get Misha's things cleared out of the bedroom, clearing it for Richard now that Misha would probably be sleeping in Jensen's bed. Jared also needed to do some grocery shopping. Feeding four grown men would be a chore, and he was more than ready for the task. He knew he could fit it into his schedule, and it would be worth it.

The look on Misha's face when he was talking to Richard, the tone of his voice, everything said Richard meant a lot to Misha.

*

Misha

Once again they were all falling asleep on the couch. It was his favorite way of relaxing. He was surrounded by three men who meant the world to him. It wasn't the movie that mattered.

Misha nudged Jensen with his nose under Jensen's chin. Jensen turned his head, and he felt Jensen squeeze him, obviously seeing exactly what Misha had wanted him to. Jared had fallen asleep on the loveseat, his face smashed into the armrest, his legs up on the ottoman, sprawled out and dead to the world. That was nothing unusual.

The only thing that was new, the thing that had caused Misha's stomach to clench in excitement was the fact that Richard had fallen asleep with his head on Jared's chest, drooling onto Jared's shirt.

Misha lifted his head and put his lips to Jensen's ear. “Should we tell them to just fuck already?”

Jensen stifled a chuckle. “Nah, they'll figure it out. It's only been a couple weeks. Jared's just giving him some time.”

“Did I gaze at you like Jared gazes at Richard?” Misha asked, rubbing his nose over Jensen's stubbly cheek.

“You still do,” Jensen said with a grin.

“Oh, okay,” Misha said, kissing Jensen's temple. “So can we just fuck already?”

Jensen snorted, covering his mouth when Richard twitched, but he didn't wake up, just rubbed his face on Jared's shirt a little, then settled again.

“Yeah,” Jensen said, cupping Misha's crotch and giving him a squeeze. “We'll just leave the movie going so they don't wake up. I don't want them listening in when I make you beg.”

“I'm not as loud as you,” Misha said with a smile. “Ask Jared if you don't believe me.”

Jensen grinned at him. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”

Misha couldn't keep the smile from his face as he grabbed Jensen by the wrist and yanked him up off the couch. After one last look at their roommates, they headed upstairs.

The End