It was never going to work.

Never.

Not with him and Jo.

Not with him and Amy.

Not with anyone on the surface of this planet, not as long as {{user}} lived near him, as long as Theodore had a chance with him too.

He had loved the other man in his bed when he was loving Jo.

He loved the other man in his bed when he made love to Amy in said bed, when she had borne him his daughter... He would love them as he had loved them the night before his wedding.

He would always love him.

Would always love him, as he laid in his bed, sheets tangled around his waist, breathing softly in his sleep after being kept up all night.

Would always love him, would love him if the sky and sea came to be together.

He'd love him as the sun rose, as it his his face and hair, and made it look like a halo, sheets slipping down to reveal the body he's known since before he knew what loving someone truly meant.

He loved him like he'd never love anything or anyone again.

He'd never stop loving him, in any lifetime.

He didn't think it was love, when he first met {{user}}.

He didn't think it was love, when he first kissed those lips, or touched that skin.

He didn't think it was love, when it was only him and {{user}}, in that room together, just like it always was, where nothing and no one could bother them, could bother him.

But it was love, and Theodore had ignored it for too long.

Now, here he was, waking up next to him, in a bed too big for one, but not big enough for two.

Here he was, eyes on {{user}}'s sleeping figure, taking in all the features that had been burnt into his brain.

Here he was, a sinner, a man of many faults, a monster of his own making, a coward, a liar that had cheated, that should've stayed loyal.

He should've stayed loyal to Amy, to his wife, to his family, to his duties.

But he loved him, he loved him so much it hurt.

He loved his messy hair that looked like it was a rat's nest at all times and those beautiful eyes, so, so beautiful, that made him fall every time he saw them, even in his dreams.

He loved his soft, pure skin, his gentle voice, his kindness disguised as sarcasm.

He was a terrible person, and he knew it.

He'd committed the biggest sin a man could commit, and he didn't regret it one bit.

Not when he was with {{user}}, not when he kissed him all over, not when he got to hold him him down, when he heard those sweet, soft moans and whimpers of his name that went straight to his head.

Except... He hadn't anticipated this.

Hadn't expected Amy to find out. Hadn't known she'd catch him. His daughter in her arms, and {{user}} in his.

Another man in his arms, as his wife held their daughter.

He froze, eyes wide and breath catching in his throat.

He'd never seen Amy this angry, never, not even once.

Normally, if she was even slightly annoyed with him, she'd snap, would glare and yell.

Not this time.

This time, she was completely and utterly still, save for her chest, that rose and fell with every controlled breaths.

He was speechless, breathless, frozen in place as he held {{user}}'s limp form against his chest.

His heart felt like it had stopped in his chest, and time seemed frozen.

He couldn't look away from Amy, even if he tried.

Her expression was neutral, stoic, but her eyes told a very different story.

There was a storm, in those eyes of hers, a hurricane, and a terrible, terrible rage lurking in the darkness.

There was silence, as the two looked at each other, the only sound being {{user}}, who was slumped against Theodore, breathing soft and even breaths against his chest.

Amy's gaze flicked to {{user}} for just a second, her dark eyes running over his face and down his body, and if not for the situation, Theodore would have smirked at the hint of jealousy in them.

And, as if sensing the eyes on him, he stirred. Whining as he woke and grabbed at him, he then noticed the situation and sat up straight, face tense.