Work Text:
Because of a forgotten sweater. Because of a good restaurant. Because of comic con. Making meaningless pretexts, excuses, they met and held each other. Emailing went from once every ten days to once a week. When it became once every two days, they have already lost their sense of guilt. They both knew their actions has became excessive. Others from the cast began to notice. No one was to blame. Covid came like a salvation, stopping their affair dead in in its tracks, but for their feelings it was too late. They were both too deep.
~
"It's finalised. I'm officially divorced."
"Why do you look so down about it, Mish?" Jensen placed his hand over Misha's wrist. "I thought you wanted it."
"I did." Misha shook Jensen's hand off, and reached for his beer. "I do. But I don't like being alone. West and Maison are staying with Vic now..."
"What's the custody agreement?" Jensen asked when the bartender took his order. The bar was loud enough to block their conversation from any nosy ears.
"Their school is closer to Vic's place, it wouldn't make sense to keep them in my house. I'll have them on weekends. If they want."
"Can't believe you let her keep the house. You bought that place yourself." Jensen shook his head. "Mish, I gotta ask...was it because of me?"
Misha paused sipping on his beer. He placed the glass down and sighed again, rubbing his face with his hand. "Partially. Listen Jen, you don't have to worry about that. You and I are no longer involved that way."
"I don't think it was by choice, Mish. The pandemic kinda decided for us." Jensen bumped his shoulder against Misha's. "But hey, if you ever want to give us another chance...I would like that."
"No..." Misha shook his head. "It can't happen again."
~
Lips that brushed against his skin. Tongue that traced his nipple, Teeth that scraped against his neck. Bruising grip of hands against his hips. Thick cock buried inside of him. Misha felt it all, deeply. His breath was ragged as he rode Jensen slowly, his own fingers tangled in Jensen's hair.
A few more thrusts and Misha was tumbling over the edge with a raspy groan. When Jensen felt the splash of Misha's release on his stomach, he dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of the man's hips and chased after his own climax, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as they finally separated.
Misha laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, with his breath still ragged from the intensity of what they just did. The neon light of the hotel peeked through the curtains slightly, casting crimson shadows on the walls of the small room. He hated how time seemed to stand still after every time they've met. How did it even happen? Two years. Two years since his divorce, and yet he found himself in Jensen's arms, again and again, his feelings jumbled all over the place.
Misha turned his head to look at Jensen, whose chest rose and fell slowly as he caught his breath. The warmth of his body, the way their limbs were tangled together, should have felt comforting, but instead, Misha felt trapped. He hated himself for falling back into this relationship with Jensen, when he swore to himself it won't happen again. But neither one of them could deny it. The connection between them was undeniably raw, almost primal. But it was so complicated. Because no matter how often Jensen whispered Misha's name in the dark, no matter how many times they found themselves wrapped around each other, Jensen always left. Always went back to Daneel, leaving Misha pretending everything was fine.
But Misha knew it was wrong. He had told himself it had to end countless times, but every time Jensen looked at him with those green eyes, full of desire and need, Misha crumbled. His heart, despite knowing better, always found itself drawn to Jensen. But tonight...tonight was different. It had to be.
Misha propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Jensen who was slowly dozing off. The way his dark hair clung slightly to his forehead with sweat, the shadow of stubble along his jaw. He looked peaceful, content, like nothing in the world was wrong. Like everything between them was fine. And he thought so too, but not Misha. For him, it wasn't fine.
"Jensen." Misha gently shook his arm to wake him. "Hey..."
"Mmm?" Jensen turned his head, opening his eyes. A lazy, satisfied grin spread across his face as he reached for Misha's hand and kissed his knuckles. "You want a round two?"
"No." Misha sighed as he pulled his hand away. "We should talk..."
Jensen's smile faltered, and he looked at Misha with confused face. "Now? Can’t it wait?" He reached for Misha again, but Misha shifted further away, sitting up fully now, pulling the sheets around his waist.
"No." Misha said firmly. "I can’t keep doing this."
Jensen sat up too, his confusion turning into worry. “What do you mean?”
Misha sighed, running a hand through his messed up hair. "I mean...All of this. It's not working for me. I can’t keep pretending this is enough for me. You go home to Daneel every night, and I’m left here with nothing but a jizz rag. It's irritating."
Jensen's face hardened. "Mish, you know how complicated this is. You know I love you, right?"
"It sure doesn't feel like it when you always leave me and go back to her." Misha let out a bitter chuckle. "You’ve never once talked about leaving Daneel. Not once."
Jensen’s eyes flashed with something. Anger, guilt, fear, something in between that was hard to tell. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and pacing the small room. "You know it’s not that simple. She's is my wife. We have a life together. Kids."
"Exactly." Misha said, his voice breaking slightly. "She’s your wife. And what am I, Jensen? Just your dirty little secret on the side?"
Jensen stopped pacing and turned to face him, crossing his arms. "Don’t say that. You’re more than that."
"I don't think I am." Misha reached for his boxers. "I left my wife for you. And I know you knew when I lied and said that wasn't the case. Am I just convenient for you?"
"No, Mish, it's not-"
"You only come to me when you need something that Daneel can’t give you. And then you just...leave. Every time." Misha continued hastily picking up his clothes. "I'm done."
Jensen’s fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to control his frustration. "Misha, you knew what this was from the beginning. You knew I wasn’t going to leave her."
"Refresh my memory; who was it that said we will be together? Who was it that said we're exclusive? Who said that once we're both single, we can be open about us?" Misha zipped up his sweater.
Jensen sighed, guilt written over his face. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do it Mish." He then reached for his shirt and jeans.
"It's really disappointing that after..what, six years of whatever this is..." Misha gestured towards the bed. "You still won't choose me."
Jensen took a step toward him, his voice lowering. "You think I don’t want to choose you? You think this is easy for me? I’m trying, Mish, but-"
"No!" Misha cut him off. "You’re not trying. You’re keeping me in the dark, keeping me a secret because it’s easier for you. But it’s not easier for me. Fuck, Jen, I'm fifty. And...I’m tired, Jen. I’m tired of being a secret. I’m tired of feeling like I don’t matter."
Jensen’s face twisted in anger, but he tried desperately not to raise his voice. "Don’t act like you’re some kind of victim here, Misha. You knew what you were getting into. You agreed to this."
"I agreed to this because I thought you loved me enough to make it work. But I was wrong." Misha said, his voice breaking as he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the floor. "I can’t keep doing this to myself."
Jensen moved and grabbed Misha’s arm, pulling him back from the direction eh headed; the door. "Don’t do this, Misha. Don’t leave like this."
Misha looked down at Jensen’s hand on his arm before he jerked it away. He had to look away, as Jensen's eyes seemed to pierce right through him, and he wished not to break down in what was already to him a very vulnerable situation.
"I deserve to be more than just your secret lover." Misha reached for the door handle. "Don't call me again."
"Misha please don't do this." Jensen's fists clenched by his sides. "I love you, and-" Before he could finish the sentence, Jensen's phone buzzed on the dresser. Misha didn't even need to wait for him to pick up, as he immediately saw the "Wifey<3" flash across the screen.
"Mish..." Jensen called out when Misha walked out through the door, but he didn't turn around.
When Misha arrived back at his house he dragged his feet straight into bed, exhausted more mentally than physically. He couldn't be bothered to take off his clothes, and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could still feel Jensen's touch on his skin, but he was reluctant to wash it off. The silence that filled his room was suffocating. He wished they at least screamed at each other, maybe thrown in a couple insults too. That way it could be easier to move on But he just felt hut. Hurt and ashamed, for being a pathetic loser who kept desperately clinging to any scraps of love Jensen had thrown his way. He finally fell asleep as the sun was rising, but there were no dreams in his sleep that night.
~
The following morning was cold, with a biting chill in the air, and a whistling wind blew around his ears. It was barely 6am when Misha stood by the park, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets as he waited for Jensen. He wasn't completely sure why he agreed to meet, as everything in him screamed that he shouldn’t. Misha has already woken up determined to block Jensen's number for the time being, but a text was waiting for him, and he stupidly agreed. He knew where this would go, knew that whatever had broken between them last night couldn’t be fixed with another heated conversation or another desperate kiss. But even after everything that has happened less than twelve hours prior, Misha still felt the gravity that kept pulling him back in, even when it was killing him.
When he heard the familiar footsteps approaching, the sound of Jensen’s boots on the gravel path, Misha turned around, his arms crossed. Jensen’s face was emotionless, his expression unreadable, but there were dark circles under his eyes, as if he stayed up all night. It was then that it dawned on Misha; Jensen looked angry. And that made his stomach turn.
"Hey..." Jensen said as he stopped in front of him with crossed arms.
Misha nodded as a greeting but kept his distance. He knew any closeness would just make him fold again. "You said we needed to talk."
"Yeah." Jensen sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We gotta clear some things up."
Misha swallowed, already feeling a lump in his throat. "I said everything I needed to say last night."
Jensen’s jaw clenched. "No, you didn’t. You just threw a bomb in the middle of everything and walked away. You didn’t give me a chance to explain." His face tensed. "You owed me as much, Mish."
"I don't owe you shit." Misha grumbled. "Because I realised, you don't owe me shit either. I was just your affair partner. Friends with benefits. I was never a lover to you."
"Why can't you just let me explain?" Jensen pleaded with frustration, reaching for Misha's face.
Misha’s heart was pounding now, his own frustration rising to meet Jensen’s as he slapped his hand away. "Explain what? That you’ll never leave Daneel? That you’ll always choose her?" He looked around, just to make sure no one was around. "I get it, Jensen." He hissed. "I’ve gotten it for months. But I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep being your secret."
Jensen’s face twisted, and he let out a bitter laugh. "So, what now then? What are you planning to do? Just forget everything? You think walking away is going to fix everything and make us just buddies again? You think it’s that easy?"
"It’s not easy." Misha shot back, his voice shaking. "But it’s the only choice I have left. I'm exhausted you fuck. I can’t keep hurting like this."
Jensen’s eyes flashed with anger, his voice rising. "Hurting? You’re the one who’s hurting? You think you’re the only one in pain here, Misha? Do you know how hard it’s been for me, juggling this-"
"Juggling?" Misha interrupted, the pitch of his voice rising. "Is that what this is to you? Some kind of balancing act between me and your wife?"
Jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing against Misha’s as the space between them closed, his face twisted with frustration. "You don’t understand, Misha. Being with more than one person, being with a man, I've never done this before! It's too much for me, you're more confident, more out there, and I...I’ve been trying to make this work for both of us, but you’re the one who keeps pushing."
"Because you’re not giving me anything!" Misha shouted, his anger boiling over now. He pushed against Jensen’s chest, shoving him back, towards the little building that hosted public toilets, now locked off. "You’ve never once told me you’d leave her. You’ve never once shown me that I’m more than just your side piece."
Jensen stumbled back a step, his back hitting the wall, his eyes more angry than hurt. "Don’t push me, Misha."
"Or what?" Misha challenged, his voice cracking. "You’ll leave me again? Go back to Daneel and pretend like none of this ever happened? That's what I want. Just leave me alone, you two timing prick."
Jensen’s face stiffened, and something in his eyes shifted as he swallowed. "You think you’re so innocent in all this? You knew what you were getting into from the start. You wanted this too. You wanted me. From the first day you got into my trailer and crawled into my bed, from the second you cooked me off and desperately moaned like a bitch in heat. You couldn't get enough."
Misha’s heart tightened painfully in his chest, Jensen’s words seemed to stab into it deeply. "I wanted you, yes. But I wanted all of you, not just the parts you were willing to sneak away with. And don't bullshit me by saying you thought it was only sex for me; we both know we were more than that."
Jensen’s lip curled, and he took a step forward, closing the gap between them again. "You knew I couldn’t leave her. You knew it from the beginning. But you kept pushing, kept wanting more, like I could just throw away everything."
"Because I thought I mattered to you!" Misha shouted, stepping back. He couldn't care less if anyone was around and heard or saw them. "I thought you loved me enough to fight for me."
Jensen’s face twisted with contempt, and the words that came next were like poison, cutting deep into Misha's heart. "You don’t get it, do you? You were never going to be enough. Daneel’s my wife, Misha. She’s my life. You were... you were just a distraction. Something to fill the void the I felt down."
The words hung in the air and Misha could hear them ringing in his ears. He was confused; why did Jensen called him to talk? At first it seemed as if he didn't want to break up, keep Misha by his side, but now Misha wasn't so ruse, as Jensen spoke rudely, insulting him for his feelings that Misha couldn't control. For a moment, the world around him seemed to blur, the weight of Jensen’s admission crashing down on him with a force he hadn’t been prepared for.
"Just a distraction?" Misha whispered, trying not to burst into tears like a little girl. "Is that all I am to you?"
Jensen’s face softened for a moment, regret flashing in his eyes, but the damage was done. He had crossed a line, and he knew it couldn't be taken back.
Misha’s hands clenched into fists, heartbreak making his voice crack. He stepped forward, shoving Jensen again, harder this time. "You bastard." He said, his voice thick as he tried to choke down the tears. "You bastard!"
Jensen reacted quickly, grabbing Misha’s wrists tightly. "Misha, stop; someone might see-"
But Misha didn’t stop. He struggled against Jensen’s hold, all the anger, all the pain that had been building inside him for months exploding out of him. He shoved Jensen again, hard enough to send him stumbling into a nearby bench.
"Is that all I was to you?" Misha shouted, tears burning his eyes. "A distraction? Something to fill the time while you kept playing happy families with Daneel?"
Jensen stood up quickly, his face flushed with anger matching Misha’s intensity as he shoved him back. "You think I don’t feel anything for you? You think this was easy for me? You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!"
"Then what was it, Jensen?" Misha screamed, his voice breaking. "Because I don’t know anymore! I don’t know what any of this meant to you! I don't know what the fuck do you want from me!"
Jensen’s chest heaved with heavy breaths. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them filled with tension that both were too cowardly to break.
Then Jensen snapped. "You think you were the only one suffering? You think you’re the only one who’s been hurting? I didn’t ask for this, Misha! I didn’t ask to fall in love with you!"
The words hit Misha like a sledgehammer and he froze, staring at Jensen with tear filled eyes. But before he could respond, Jensen kept going, his voice rising with a mix of anger and despair.
"I have a life with Daneel! I’ve built something with her! And yeah, maybe I wanted you too, but that doesn’t mean I can just throw it all away because you’re unhappy!" Jensen’s voice cracked, the love breaking through his anger. "I didn’t want to choose, Misha. I didn’t want to have to choose between the two people I care about most. But you forced my hand."
Misha’s chest ached, his vision blurred with tears he couldn’t hold back any longer. "I didn’t want to force you, Jensen. I just wanted you to love me the way I love you."
Jensen’s face twisted in pain, his voice barely a whisper now. "I do love you. But I can’t leave her."
And that was it. The final blow. Misha’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him completely. He wiped tears off his face and took a shaky breath.
"I can’t do this anymore." Misha whispered, his voice breaking. "I can’t be second in your life. I won’t. We're over." He wiped his face again, this time clearing his throat. "Don't fucking call me. Don't text me, call me, contact me in any way. If we have work together, let managers handle it.
Jensen looked at him with regret, his hands reaching out, but Misha stepped back, shaking his head. "We're done." Misha sighed, finally turning his back.
Worst part was, the pathetic part of him wished Jensen would follow. That he would grab him and cry and beg for him to stay. But alas it was a hopeful wish that remained unfulfilled, and Misha drove back home where he reconnected with his pillow, sobbing hopelessly for his broken heart. He cursed himself for his stupidity, for falling in love with Jensen in the first place, for always being forgiving and hopeful that things would change. He cursed himself for the effect Jensen had on him, for knowing that if he just whistled, Misha would foolishly come running. He cursed himself for being the only one so heavily emotionally invested in that relationship. Or so he thought.
A couple of months had passed when Misha finally let himself move on, but for Jensen it became soul crushing. Time had crawled by in agonising, slow motion. Every day felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, and he couldn't breathe. Whenever Daneel did anything even remotely affectionate, all he wished for was to make her go away. Every time he saw Misha’s face in the back of his mind or remembered the way they had collided in that park, their fight, the way they didn't reconnect after. The guilt gnawed at him, as did the anger; the frustration of knowing he made the wrong choice, and now it was too late to salvage it.
Or at least, it felt that way. Even though his feelings and his selfishness continued to surface, Jensen tried to bury himself in his work. What could have been, was lost forever.