All Just A Game

All just a game
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/30797882.
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Political RPF - Netherlands 21st c.
Relationship: Rob Jetten/Jesse Klaver
Characters: Rob Jetten, Jesse Klaver, Sjoerd van Gils, Jolein Klaver
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Resse - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Missed
Opportunity, maybe a little comfort, Rob needs some therapy, but don't
we all, Kinda Kinky, Power Play, Bittersweet Ending, sad slow burn,
Cheating, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2021-04-20 Completed: 2023-07-29 Words: 17,127 Chapters:
14/14
All just a game
by Helduath
Summary
It was all just a game, the smiles, the looks, the flirt, but what happen when the #resse
becomes a world wide trend on Tik Tok? When they realise that, maybe, there are feelings
underneath?
But Jesse is married, Rob lives with his boyfriend, they are happy, or so it seems.
Will they act on it? Or would it be just a huge mistake? Can they find a little bit peace and
happiness in the secrecy of an affair?
Mostly a sad slowburn for a mature audience. Includes sex, power play dynamics, and trying
to deal with doing mistakes as adults.
Notes
I'd love to say that tik tok made me do it, but I enjoy writing about politicians. If you read
this, I'd be happy to know your thoughts about this. Please excuse my English if you find any
errors, I'm French. Enjoy!!
See the end of the work for more notes

Playing and losing
Rob sighed, silently. He always knew it was a bad idea to let himself think of him that way.
But he couldn't help it.
At first it was just a game. Innocent. Childish maybe. A way to forget the sadness. Would he
be able to grab his attention? To make him smile? To make him laugh?
And it was easy. Jesse was easy, to like, to entertain. It was good. He couldn't ask for more.
Their moments brightened his days at the Second Chamber, he finally had something -
someone - to look forward to each morning. He needed this. He needed friends.
God, he felt so lonely, so tired, so empty. He glanced at his boyfriend, sleeping peacefully on
the other side of the bed, tangled in the soft sheets they shared. The dim light of the moon
was bathing his face, emphasising the sharpness of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips.
He was beautiful, he could see that, but he felt nothing, nothing at all. His chest tightened,
with guilt, with regrets, with sorrow.
Sjoerd was everything everyone could dream of. Caring, intelligent, and handsome, and their
relationship had been nice for a while. But these past couple of months, he felt like they were
slowly drifting apart. Maybe it was their busy schedules, the coldness of winter or just a sad
milestone in their lives together. What had been love was now only habits and some kind
fondness. He felt left apart, while not able to depict what changes could patch up what they
had. The whole thing felt expired, had a taste of "too late".
Maybe it was him. Maybe he wasn't trying hard enough, maybe it was his fault after all. At
the first sign of struggles, he fled, he sought the attention of another, to numb the coldness in
his heart, to forget the bitterness. It was not an adult way of handling the situation, and Sjoerd
deserved better than that, better than him.
He bit his lips, holding back a sob. This was usual, late night guilt, silent tears glimmering
under the moonlight, early morning daydreaming about Jesse. He focused once again his
thoughts on him, comfort flowing gradually through the memories of his encouraging looks,
of the clarity of his laugh, of the warmness of his hands. He shivered, remembering the
overwhelming softness of his blue suit against his cheek, the strength of the arms around him,
a too short embrace after a too long day of work.
It was just a game. It was supposed to be.
But, of course, he got carried away. He thought he was in control, he thought he was the
game master, playing to get a smile, a blush, but he was just closing a cage on himself. His
just found coping mechanism revealed to be much worse than what he was escaping. Fleeing
from a wasted relationship right into an endearment to a married man, great job Rob.
But how could he not like him? With him, through him, he finally felt whole, stripped away
from all his flaws, less boring, more confident, happy, alive. He could forget the emptiness
for a while, and allow himself to feel, really feel.
Sjoerd shifted in the bed, bringing him back instantly to reality. In his hand, his phone opened
on Tik tok, on one of the many edits of Jesse and him he received earlier. One minute videos
of their interactions, for the world to see. He felt naked, exposed, and somehow jealous. He
knew he was obvious, he couldn't hide his smile when they were together, he couldn't hold
back a wink, a brush of his hand against the glorious blue suit. But that much?
Thousands of people had seen them, millions even. But all they saw was a dream, a silent
wish, a desperate prayer. Them, together, could never exist outside of this fantasy, outside of
Tik Tok, outside of his mind. He was jealous of this alternate reality where they could be,
jealous of the joy that people felt about them, because of them, when he carried only sorrow
and a broken heart.
And he was afraid, of course, of the consequences of this accidental celebrity. It was a thing
to be openly gay in politics, but it was a completely other one to be in love with one of his
straight, married, colleagues, to flirt with him so blatantly, so much that the whole world saw
them as a kind of secret love story. And he couldn't deny it, he couldn't pretend a joke, or just
a very close friendship. He was in love and he feared all the mockeries, the disgust, the anger
and the coldness he would inexorably meet the next day.
Tomorrow, everyone would know about his feelings. Tomorrow, he'd have to face all the
repercussions of his foolishness. He was overwhelmed. He could not handle the
disappointment of his boyfriend, the angry reactions of Jesse's wife and the eventual -
unstoppable - physical and emotional distance that would grow between them. No more long
discussions during breaks, no more shared looks during speeches, no more casual meals nor
coffees, no more pride, no more smiles. Only uneasiness and forced laughs. Only the forever
emptiness in his heart.
It was all just a game, and tomorrow he'd just lose.

Alien love
Chapter Summary
Rob is not the only one having trouble sleeping.
Chapter Notes
You asked for it and so I shall deliver. Thank you so much for your comments and kudos
! It's my first ever story in English so the writing is a little chaotic, but I enjoy it a lot.
Honestly, I'm not yet settle on the following chapters content, I have a lot of different
possible outcome for this story. Hope you'll like it !
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Little did Rob know that, on the other side of the city, he was not the only one having a hard
time sleeping. Jesse, leant on the uncomfortable chair of his too cold study, was deep into his
thoughts. It was late, very late, and his wife, Jolein, was already asleep. They had spent the
evening together, laughing at all the Tik Tok videos they could find about him and his friend.
He was so thankful of her, he was really blessed to have someone like her who felt secure
enough, respected enough, loved enough, to take the whole story as a joke and never doubt
him, not even a second. The trust she put in them was limitless, and he loved her so much for
that.
Nonetheless, he was troubled, confused by what he saw tonight. Contrarily to Jolein, he

couldn’t take the whole thing only as a hilarious event. He was really puzzled. Not by the
obvious crush Rob had on him, he kind of always suspected the other man fancied him, at
least a little. And honestly he didn’t think of it too much, he pretty much enjoyed the
attention. Their friendship was precious and the occasional flirt of the other man was no
threat to it.
No, what was confusing was his own reactions to Rob's presence. He never realised how
much he flirted back, how much he smiled or laughed when they were together. The way he
leaned towards him when they were close, the lack of space between them when they
crossed, the way his eyes were constantly searching for him in the crowd. Seeing the
compilation of their moments was like being hit by a train. And now he couldn’t unsee it.
He felt like he was falling, like the world was spinning, his stomach upside down. He had
flashes of them, holding hands, lost in long embraces. Of them at the beach in the morning,
under a light winter rain, the strong wind making their raincoats twirl and dance. He could
see them, lying lazily on the couch at night, a thin blanket thrown over their legs, while
watching a movie. He could feel the infinite softness of his short hair under his fingers, the
silent humming he would make at each caress. A whole life together was unfolding in his
mind. It was overwhelming, shattering.
In all these years with his wife, never once he had felt like he was missing out, never once he
desired to be with someone else, never once he regretted his choice. Dating Jolein, marrying
Jolein, was the best decision of his life. After his three children, she was the most important
person in the world, and even the idea of an existence without her was like a punch in the
face.
But he couldn’t banish the bitterness, the overpowering impression of loss, of grief, over
something he never had, and could never have. All these Tik Tok made him glimpse another
timeline, another space and time, far in the universe, where he would be bound to Rob rather
than Jolein, and he would come - back - to him at night, seek his love and bathe in the
comfort of his smile.
His eyes and chest were burning, and he rested his forehead against the cool wood of the
desk. How could he have missed his feelings towards his friend ? And what would be the best
possible outcome of all of this ? He knew he couldn’t be satisfied just with a one time thing,
he could not survive only a fugitive taste of their alien relationship. But hiding an adventure
wouldn’t be feasible, they couldn’t even conceal their mutual attraction to a bunch of
strangers on the internet. The whole world would be awaiting for the slightest hint of a them,
and all he could foresee was anguish and missed moments. The scandal would be as their
revelation, international. He would lose his kids, his wife, probably his career, or at least his
credibility. The price was too high, way too high.
He sighed. This could not happen. Never. They would rise to the sun and burn themselves in
an instant, and ashes would rain and darken everything, everyone around them. They had to
forget this fantasy, he had to forget it... Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he’d bury the idea, this almost them. Tomorrow he’d come up with a way to
handle this new celebrity, the rumors, the questions, but most importantly, to handle his
feelings, and him. A way to save, or rather not to sink, his marriage with Jolein, his
friendship with Rob. Tomorrow he could do it, he’d be strong enough, righteous enough. But
tonight ? Tonight he might dream a little more, lose himself just another moment in the
phantom touch of his forbidden lover.
Chapter End Notes
Thank you for reading this ! I'll try to post the following chapter soon, but it's kind of
crazy at work lately. I cherish every comment, so don't hesitate <3
Important meeting
Chapter Summary
Rob and Jesse have a private meeting at night.
Chapter Notes
I'm so sorry for the late update... This week was a hell of a ride, I was sick af, went 4
times to the doctor because we couldn't figure out what it was, but I'm finally getting
better. I can't wait for tomorrow because I'm finally getting vaccinated !!! Anyway, Rob
and Jesse are getting some comfort today. Ok maybe not "comfort", but at least some
time together. Enjoy <3
The previous weeks were a blurry mess in his mind. Days had gone by in an overwhelming
numbness, and Rob had the constant impression of being outside of his own body, of
watching a robot performing a grotesque impersonation of his life. He would have been
frightened if he wasn’t too tired to care, but the fatigue was constantly swathing him,
consequence of too few hours of sleep and too much worrying.
At least, the whole Tik tok famous situation had finally settled down, people forgetting about
them almost as quickly as they discovered them. But still, he couldn’t grab back to reality, he
was in full autopilot mode.
That’s exactly how he ended up here. At night. In Jesse office. He had accepted this meeting
by reflex, an automatic acquiescence to the other man's request, and it would have been weird
to decline afterward. Well, even weirder... Because what had happened three weeks ago had
altered their friendship, and this shift was tangible in every interaction they had. Jesse was
more fidgety than before, uncomfortable, his smiles almost forced, and his conversations
certainly. It hurt, and sometimes Rob wondered if he wouldn’t have preferred being ignored
completely, to have the space to forget and rebuild, rather than this exhausting in-between.
But he didn’t even deserve this peace.
He tried desperately to suppress the wave of self hate growing rapidly inside him. Focus. He
had to focus. He couldn’t lose his job too to these intrusive thoughts. Meeting topic.
Repealing of the abortion minimum reflection time. An important subject. Way more than his
pitiful crush and his broken heart. Health of hundreds of thousand people was involved in this
discussion and, of course, all he could think of was himself. His stomach twitched up, he was
so selfish, so disgusting, he couldn’t be trusted with anything. If only he could-
Suddenly, a warm hand seized his wrist, holding it firmly, yet with extreme gentleness,
stopping the unnoticed shakings going through his body. Reality hit him violently and he was
slammed back into the present moment instantly. For a couple of seconds, he was stunned,
unable to move, to speak, before pulling back quickly, his skin burning where he had been
touched.
He could feel the phantom fingers on him, the light brush of his phalanges when he withdrew,
and the tingling was spreading rapidly in his whole body. His heart was beating so loud and
fast it was deafening, and he was paralyzed by the simultaneous need to run and the
incandescent desire for more. Breathlessly, very slowly, he met the concerned gaze of Jesse,
who had protectively brought back his hand against his chest, his fist clenched, as shocked.
His emotions were on display, raw, distorting his usually so peaceful face, almost too painful
to watch. The empathy which seemed to have left Rob weeks ago was back and he could feel
each of them. Worriness. Curiosity. Sadness. Desire. Fear. Guilt. And concern again, deep
concern. The silence was buzzing, only disturbed by their harsh breaths and the foreign sound
of the wind outside.
“Are you ok ?” The question was stupid, they both knew he was not, and Rob almost laughed
at the absurdity of the situation. But his throat was too tight to make any sound, and he
simply nodded. He was not okay, but he was better in a way, grounded.
More silence. His wrist was still burning, and he rubbed it almost frantically to calm the
tingling. He had not realised he was so touch deprived, so needy for human contact. He felt
alive for the first time in a while, alerted, anchored to reality. And desperate for more, for just
another second of electricity between them, of comfort. And then, he remembered.
Sjoerd.
Jolein.
He hadn’t earned this support, he didn’t deserve it, he had no right for more, no right for even
what he got. And he was spiraling again. Coldness growing back, oppression tightening his
chest. He couldn’t cry, not in front of him.
They could not be together, and they obviously could not be friends, it hurt too much, he was
too tired, he couldn’t play anymore. He was shaking again, he knew it, but he was too weak
to try concealing it anymore. He didn’t even hear the sound of a chair being moved, nor the
precipitated steps towards him.
But next he was pulled into a strong embrace, an arm around his shoulders, a cautious hand
on the back of his head, keeping his face buried in his soft curls. All his senses were
overwhelmed, overloaded by thousands of sensations. But nothing was comparable to the
tremors in Jesse’s voice.
“Please talk to me. Tell me what Sjoerd did to you. Please I swear I’ll help with anything...”
Chapter End Notes
Still not sure where this is going, but hopefully to something between them ! Hope you
liked it :)
Too close
Chapter Summary
Jesse is trying to sort out what he wants while comforting Rob.
Chapter Notes
Hey <3 this chapter was very hard to write, for no particular reason. I guess I'm not used
to stick with a story that long and I'm struggling to taking it where I want to go?
Anyway, I'm kind of anxious about this chapter...
Hot. Everything was hot, burning, consuming his restraint, eroding his will, blowing away his
resolutions. Rob’s body against him was temptation, and what was, just a minute ago, a
simple gesture of comfort, was now a blazing appeal for more.
First his wrist when he had tried to calm him earlier, so smooth he had forgotten how to
breathe, the contact so enthralling he had overlooked his worry, just to relish an instant in this
endless dream of them. And now he was caught in the radiating heat in his arms, Rob so
perfectly fitted in their embrace. He thought he could do it, he thought he could put aside his
feelings, control his craving, be the friend that was needed, but obviously he couldn’t.
The hair under his fingers were so soft, and he resisted only a second before giving in, letting
his hand go through it, slowly. The buzzing feeling of forbiddenness was intoxicating, almost
as much as his scent, probably a complex mix of a fresh lavender shampoo and a discreet
shaving cream.
They were so close, too close. He took a deep breath, fighting the overwhelming desire to
succumb, to taste, to take, and then to regret. He had thought of that way too often during the
past three weeks. They couldn’t. They shouldn’t.
The atmosphere in the too small office was electric, or maybe it was just him projecting,
fantasizing yet again about the unaccessible. Reluctantly, he stopped, abandoning the silky
hair for a friendlier touch on his back.
Rob shivered against him, obviously on the verge of tears, and he held him tighter,
swallowing back his inappropriate desires. Not now. Not this way. Hopefully not at all.
Something was wrong with him lately, and it could not be only the repercussions of some Tik
tok videos. He was disconnected, unreactive, as somewhere else in his mind, barely focused
enough to work, his discourses somewhat disjointed, ill finished. Having a discussion with
him was near to impossible, and Jesse had grown more and more concerned. The only
plausible explanation he could settle on was Sjoerd, something had happened, a dispute, a
fight, or something worse. But Rob was not the type to cry for help, that’s why he setted up
the whole meeting tonight.
“H-he’s not the problem...” The voice was shaking, hardly more than a whisper muttered in
his neck. He struggled to continue, frenetic, hot tears soaking the collar of his shirt, his
fingers desperately gripping his suit jacket. “I-I am.”
The disgust, the hate in his voice was shattering and Jesse grew still, frozen by the
internalised guilt and violence he was hearing. So few words and so much hatred, his chest
was tightening, the world whirring around him. His feelings were beyond concern, way into
fear and regrets of not acting sooner. He took a step back and looked at him, not entirely sure
of what he was expecting.
But Rob wouldn’t move, fingers lingering on his vest, eyes on the floor. His cheeks were
glistening with tears, dramatic, but strangely peaceful. A lull moment after a cataclysm, a
silence after the crash. He was intimately beautiful, unguarded almost, his emotions unwisely
written on his face as some Greek tragedy.
He wished he could have him, cherish him, just take this sadness away and finally show him
how precious and amazing he was. He longed to comfort him, to make him laugh and smile
the way he did a month ago, just by a glance, just by a text, just by a brush. He missed these
times tremendously, he had aspired for so much more, but in this instant, he would beg for
just a little of what they shared, just another second of careless joy.
“Rob?”
No reaction. Only his steady breathing in the stillness of the room. Slowly, almost against his
own will, he finally put his hand on the other man's cheek, applying a light pressure so that
their eyes finally met. His skin was overwhelmingly smooth, and hot, with just a hint of the
wetness of tears. Too close, way too close, so dangerous, yet irresistible. And he didn’t seem
to mind.
Jesse was so desperate to say something, anything, to confess how happy he made him, how
incredible and inestimable he was, how lovable, but no words were leaving his mouth, and he
could only observe Rob’s curious gaze, and his tentative looks to his lips. Electricity was
sparkling again between them, his heart beating so fast, his hand lost yet another time in the
softness of his hair. They could just lean a little, just a few centimeters, it would be so easy to
surrender, to finally submit to the desire he had been fighting for weeks. It was such a risky
game they were playing, a hazardous bet with an insane price, but he knew their momentum
was too high, they could never stop there. They would lose everything.
They couldn’t. But it was already too late. At this point, it was only damage control.
“We can’t”
Chapter End Notes
Thank you for reading <3 don't mind me, just editing yet again the tags and the
summary....
Melodist
Chapter Summary
A shared heated night. Updated rating to Mature
Chapter Notes
Hello everyone :) this chapter was not at all what I intended to write, but that's where the
story took me so here we are. I updated the rating to mature, but it will possibly evolve
to explicit later
Rob leaned against the door frame, mindlessly buttoning his shirt, contemplating the unmade
bed in the first glimmers of the sun. The whole room was a screaming testimony of the night,
of the eagerness shared only a few hours ago, of the uncontrollable necessity that transcended
weeks of distance. Some clothes laid here and there, on the floor, ripped up and already
forgotten. The aftermath was glorious.
His gaze wandered on the tangled sheets, following lazily the covered shape of a leg, slowly
going up to meet the sleeping form of his lover. Passion was written all over his body, and he
was the melodist, the composer of this musical score made from scratches and bruises, bites
and other marks he had spread hastily during the act. He had played a whole symphony on
his skin, his fingers drawing melodious sounds from him, again and again, until he was too
exhausted to even offer a moan.
Himself had not been spared either, and he was unsure if the high collar of his jacket would
be enough to conceal the testament of the evening. He was pleasantly sore, but the burning
inside him was still present, too great to be extinguished by just some instants of oblivion,
some precipitate hands, some desperate mouths. It wasn’t enough, but through the fog of
endorphins still swathing him, he knew this could never happen again.
There would be no other moments of pleasure, they had suffered too much, they both
deserved better than this masquerade, that this unreachable happiness. It was a bittersweet
ending, but not as crushing as expected, not as hard of a decision. Time had, in a malicious
way, did what he never had the courage to, part them away.
The bedroom was now completely bathed in the warm morning light, his shirt fully done, and
maybe he had spent an hour staring at the naked body of Sjoerd. Or maybe it was just a few
seconds. He couldn’t tell, not that it mattered. Still indifferent to the calm beauty of the other
man, he rearranged his hair, walking towards the door.
He thought about last night, of the incomprehension, the frustration, the anger he felt after
Jesse had left. The betrayal, like a slap in the face, was incandescent. He should have been
devastated, shattered by the violence of this rejection, but his only emotion was rage,
burning, devouring, so intense he had no recollections of his way back home.
All he had known was the craving for control, for domination, anything to annihilate the
growing feeling of helplessness. And he took it, by fighting with Sjoerd, an easy win,
pleasureless, and then a rough reconciliation. It was just like politics, an endless power play, a
game of dares, and the first to flinch was the first to lose. He got off on it, he delighted in it,
he mastered it.
But even through the bliss he couldn’t forget Jesse, he couldn’t banish his image, the obscene
pictures flashing before his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining the other man
under him instead of his boyfriend, his hands pinned to the mattress, the face distraught in
ecstasy, only desperate silences and shallow breaths leaving his half opened mouth, swollen
by too many bruising kisses. But the hair he had been gripping was too short, too straight,
and the visage too sharp, it wasn’t him, and it could never be enough.
That’s when he made up his mind, when he had accepted the fate, it was too late for Sjoerd
and him, they couldn’t be fixed. Leaving now, before he’d ever have the occasion to fault,
was probably his best option, the most respectful at least. Because he could not resist him, he
could not fight the temptation, nor would he have any desire to.
Yet, his anger was too vivid to take any decision about Jesse, because, right now, he only
wanted to make him suffer too, to make him lose everything, as a price for playing with him
so heartlessly. But he wouldn’t, it was only the rage speaking, and revenge would not soothe
the pain. He just needed time, and apologies. And distance.
The too early morning had the longing taste of an epilogue as he offered a last look to the
sleeping figure of his -ex- lover. Finally, without regret nor the glimpse of a doubt, he left the
apartment.
Chapter End Notes
See you soon for next part, hope you enjoyed it !

Meeting Room E
Chapter Summary
Jesse needs this situation to stop. Right now.
Chapter Notes
I'm not sure if a lot of people are still reading this, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it.
It's getting more and more explicit though. Hope you'll enjoy this chapter too !
He wore the smell of fresh lavender all over his clothes as an unfaithful husband would carry
the perfume of his lover, getting back at night to his wife, in a mix of guilt, shame and
exaltation. His hands were shaking as he threw his suit in the washing machine, but it wasn’t
enough to banish the lingering scent of his weakness. The too hot shower water was burning
his skin, but less than the feeling of culpability that made his throat tight and his heart
clenched.
He had been so close to betray Jolein, to perjure his vows, “for better, for worse” had he
sworn, and worse was his love for Rob. But this would never happen again, this they could
recover from. If he could stop now, if he could stop at that, at the too intimate caresses, at the
almost kiss, he could forget, he could forgive, move on and keep his family. No one had to
know what happened, nor the depth of his feelings.
Jesse cried silently, more of exhaustion than sadness, hugging his dozing wife while
repressing the wish of embracing the small figure of his friend instead, until the sleep finally
took him. The night was, as usual lately, way too short.
The debate was lively as he entered the chamber, 20 minutes late, and sat as far as possible
from his customary seat. He had been hiding, too tired to endure small talk, and moreover too
ashamed to interact with Rob. He didn’t dare to even look at him, trying to focus on the
discussion. It was about coronavirus measures, and the voices were already loud and the
discourses heated.
And when it was his turn to talk, he could feel the burning eyes on his back, staring so
intensely his whole body was tingling, and for a second he forgot how to speak, gripping
desperately the microphone, to eventually plied the assembly with his questions. His
breathing was fast, a slight blush adorning his cheeks when he passed him to go back to his
seat, suddenly very interested in the floor. He had to control himself.
But he kept receiving glances and persistent gazes, until he was a mess of guilt and need,
crystallizing quickly into frustration and defensiveness. How could he confuse him so easily,
make him forget about Jolein, by his simple existence, his simple presence ? It was
unbearable, this had to stop, right now. Frantically, he grabbed his phone and opened the
abandoned WhatsApp conversation they shared, typing. “We need to talk. Meet me in five,
1st floor, meeting room E.” And, without looking back, he stood up and left.
The room was small, with no windows, spared of any decoration. Only a big TV screen
screwed to the wall, a too large wooden table and four uncomfortable but matching chairs. It
was exiguous, so much he was convinced it was just an old storage room reconverted for
remote meetings because of covid. But it was calm, private, and not as well known nor used
as the other shared spaces the building had to offer.
He leaned against the table, glancing at his phone nervously. His message had been opened,
but no answer, of course. Doubts were already storming him, and for a while, he was sure no
one would come. Then, the door opened, the door closed, and Rob was resting against it, his
hand behind his back as ready to argue, an annoyed look painted over his fair face.
“You wanted to see me ?”
Cold, displeased, aggressive. Yet so confident. The contrast with the man sobbing in his arms
yesterday was startling, a blow to his own assurance. The air around them was tense, and he
regretted not sitting down when he was alone, now trapped, as any movement would have
brought him closer to Rob. The situation was not to his advantage at all.
“You need to stop” His voice was firmer than he really was, yet not losing its underlying soft
quality. Was it sufficient ? Was it clear enough ? Maybe not. “You need to stop that, looking
at me like this.”
Silence. Confusion. Then understanding. Shock. And finally indignation. A whole show of
emotions, just for him. And he knew he had fucked up. Badly.
“I beg your pardon ?” His voice was low, angry. “*I* need to stop ? You must be kidding me.
*I* need to stop ?? ” He pushed himself from the door in a swift gesture, approaching Jesse
with a dangerous expression. “The last time I checked, I was not the one touching my male
friend inappropriately, playing with his hair nor almost kissing him.” His tone was growing
more and more menacing, filling up the space of the too small room.
“I did not-”
“You did.” He interrupted sharply. He was getting too close, way too much inside his
personal space, and Jesse was getting panicky. He needed this to stop right now, but he was
blocked from an easy flight, letting him only with the fight option.
“I’m not interested in you” He blurted out, and his own voice sounded unsure, shaky. A
straight up lie, and not a very good one, but he was too destabilized for any better. His hands,
sweaty, were gripping the edge of the table he was presently almost sitting on, as one of
Rob’s suddenly grabbed the lapel of his jacket, just under the collar.
Instantly, it was like Jesse could not breathe, paralyzed, a wave of fear and need crashing
over his body. Danger and desire, as one unique feeling, were beating through him at the
frantic pace of his heart.
Rob, slowly, with a defying look, leaned on him, holding him firmly in place. He leisurely
removed some curls from his face, his nails streaming along the burning skin of his nape,
tearing shivers from him. Then, he got even closer, his lips almost touching his ear, so close
he could feel the heat radiating from him, the electricity, and whispered.
“Are you sure about that?”
Then his mouth went lower, at the junction with his shoulder, his breathing so hot against
him. Seconds went by, but it was like an eternity, he was shaking, desperate, and finally, an
ardent kiss was left on his neck. A soft moan escaped him, his eyes shut, and he could feel
Rob’s grin against his pale skin. And suddenly everything stopped. The door was slammed
shut. Jesse was left alone, panting, burning, trembling. And he was sure, sure he was
absolutely fucked up.
Chapter End Notes
See you soon for next part !

The Storm
Chapter Summary
Jesse is confused, then mad, and finally confronts Rob about it in a heated argument.
Chapter Notes
Thank you so much for your nice comments !! It makes me so happy <3 So this chapter
is way longer than usual, and from Jesse point of vue again, but I'm quite proud of it.
Enjoy !
Jesse could not tell how long he stayed here, trying to calm his breathing, his heart, his
desire. He was completely wrecked, his hands were hurting from gripping the table so hard,
and he could still feel the dangerous smile of Rob against his flushed skin. He had never
wanted someone that much in his entire life, and no one had ever made him so weak, so
needy, with just a few words and a kiss.
Fresh lavender, yet again, was everywhere, it was too much and not enough at the same time,
and the need to run away from the tiny room shook him. The air was cool on his cheeks as he
was walking through the hall, but his body was still combusting, tingling, and he was certain
everyone passing him knew exactly what had just happened. Splashing water on his face
could help, and branched left toward the restroom.
The room was silent, and for a grateful moment he thought he was alone, until his eyes met a
familiar form at one of the sinks.
“Jesse? Nice to see you!” The other man had seen him.
Panic. Guilt. Shame. He felt sick, stunned, dizzy. He couldn’t breathe, oxygen was lacking,
and his heart was pounding in his chest. He stared at Sjoerd, who was shyly smiling at him,
the first button of his shirt undone as he was applying what looked like makeup on tens of
love marks and bites scattered on his shoulders and neck.
He tried to respond, but he was trembling, the horror of the situation growing on him. A
couple of seconds went by, and the culpability was making his voice shaky as he asked.
“What happened? Why are you here?”
It was almost accusatory, but he didn’t seem to mind as he answered, babbling. “That? Oh,
you know... fun night” he laughed, embarrassed. “Did you saw Rob? We’re supposed to
spend lunch together!”
And that was his limit, he could not take more of this. He could not talk with the boyfriend of
the man that pinned him against a table half an hour ago, that whispered to his ear, that kiss
his skin, that left him burning with desire with just a longing smirk. Not while smelling like
him, not while craving him. He couldn’t.
“I-I have to go” he shuttered, and he fled, almost running, not knowing where to go, but
anywhere far from him would do. Anywhere. Everywhere.
The weather was grey as he was walking outside, the wind blowing his hair, washing the
overflow of emotions. The radiant colours of nature in the early spring were contrasting with
the sky and his mood, dark, menacing. The storm was not far away.
The panic had settled, replaced by anger, dull, yet growling. How could he? How could he
play with him like that? How could he spend a passionate night with his boyfriend, then
screw him up, then just to go back to Sjoerd for more fun. He was nothing more than a play
toy, and this was all just a game. He had been a foul.
He had almost destroyed his marriage for this, for him. He was an idiot, and Rob’s behaviour
disgusting. He had let him touch him, own him, with the same hands, the same lips, that were
marking and undoing Sjoerd a couple of hours earlier. This idea made him even more furious,
sick in the stomach, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. Whatever.
And as the rain started to fall, the lunch break long over, he skipped the afternoon session,
rather heading towards Rob’s office. He knew he would be there, as the discussion wouldn’t
need both Sigrid and him, and he had weeks of work late. It was the perfect opportunity to
tell him exactly how he felt about his wicked little game.
He was too angry to notice the dim sadness on Rob's face as he entered the never locked
room, fuming. All he got was an arched eyebrow and a curious “Jesse?” as he straightened
up, putting his glasses aside.
“So how was your lunch? Had a fun time with your boyfriend? Left him some new marks?
Are you satisfied enough or are you gonna try breaking some other marriages to get off this
afternoon?”
He paused to catch his breath, shaking, before starting another violent tirade.
“I can make an announcement that you’re looking for some engaged guys to fuck with you
know. Or maybe it’s just me? A messed-up way to express your friendship? What’s wrong
with yo-”
“Why are you even here?” The voice was calm, unbothered by the storm unfolding in front of
him. During the heated diatribe, Rob had got up and around of his desk, leaning against it, his
arms crossed, amusement painted on his face. It was not the reaction Jesse had expected, and
it was a confused “Excuse me?” that escaped him next.
“You show here uninvited to vent about my love life and how it affects you, only a few hours
after making it very clear you’re not willing to be a part of it. One could say you’re showing
a great deal of jealousy for someone not interested.”
Dammit that’s not why he was there, nor what he had meant, did he even listen to him at all ?
He opened his mouth to explain, to argue, but he was interrupted again.
“So, which one is it?”
The tone was different from this morning, no audible anger, no visible violence. Only a
feigned innocence and playfulness, and maybe some tiredness hidden under his teasing tone.
He approached Jesse, hesitating just a second before slowly seizing both lapels of his jacket,
leaving him plenty of time to flee. But he didn’t, he was too fascinated, his denial obliterated
by the suffocating proximity.
And for a while he was just staring at him, looking for a sign of something. Encouragement ?
Repulsion ? Desire ? Fear ? Time was stretching infinitely in the stillness of their action, need
was building up, tension sparkling between them. Then, Rob carefully pushed him until his
back met the wooden door with a muffed sound, and instinctively his hands went to his hips
for more contact, and he bite his lip to repress a moan. Time was flowing again, blistering.
A hand ventured under his vest, wandering on his fast-rising chest and he closed his eyes,
resting his head back against the wood, giving a lewd view of his offered neck. The contrast
between the cold surface and the hot body was intense, and the fingers playing with the knot
of his tie sent electric shocks to his core.
“So...” no more tie, it decorated the floor now. “Are you...” the first button of his shirt came
undone. “uninterested...” the second followed and the Rob mouth was floating over his
collarbone. “or just...” heavy breathing, from both of them. “jealous?”
Jesse couldn’t talk, reduced to a shivering mess, gripping desperately the other man, trying to
make their waists collide to answer the obvious question. But Rob only pinned him with
more strength, and a hopeless sound escaped him.
“or is it the marks?” it was just a whisper, so low, lost among harsh respirations. His mouth
was on his skin, teasing him with the tip of his tongue, revelling in the noises of pleasure he
was getting. The first gentle bite almost undid him, his mind blanked for a few seconds, he
was consumed by the need for more, for contact, on the verge of begging already.
“I could make you mine...” Teeth again, harder this time. The pain was welcome, as a
punishment for what they were doing, what he was doing. Deserved, making the lust sharper,
calming the rush of culpability this sentence had triggered deep inside him. And it definitely
left a mark.
It would be so easy to just be his... But panic and guilt kept building up, overwhelmingly,
despite the now light kisses placed on his neck, and finally Jesse pushed him away, gently,
too exhausted to even try. He met the confused look of Rob, his eyes clouded with need, his
hands still on him, trying to process what was happening.
“No” he was breathless, he couldn’t find the right words, he could not explain. The sudden
silence was crushing, he regretted the pleasure, he regretted the pain. “I don’t... I don’t want
that.” And, for once, maybe he was telling the truth, not that he was believed anyway.
“Obviously...” Rob said, taking a few steps back, looking at him and at the clear signs of
desire he was bearing. White shirt opened, purple marks on him, pinkish blush on his cheeks,
messed up brown curls falling on his pale bare shoulders, too tight grey pants... The sarcasm
was heavy and it hurt, way more than the bites still tingling on his collarbone. A stab right to
the heart. “You can just go then.”
Cold, so cold.
He had his back turned to him, hiding both his face and emotions, and none of them could
understand how their passionate embrace had turned into this in only a few instants. Jesse
picked up his tie, tidied up his suit, tears arising silently. He could not tell if it was from the
guilt or the cruel dismissal, probably a bit of both. He was opening the door when Rob
nonchalantly dropped.
“By the way, Sjoerd is not my boyfriend anymore”
Chapter End Notes
I had a great time writing this :) see you soon for next chapter !
Home
Chapter Summary
Regrets, late night invitation and missed opportunities
Chapter Notes
I'm back after a couple of rough days with a sad TM chapter, because yeah, hurt no
comfort, just like my life haha. Anyway, I'm proud to say this is the longest fic I've ever
wrote, in my ~8 years posting on the internets. Enjoy !
The hotel room was simple, even a bit small, decorated in diverse shades of taupe from floor
to ceiling. A bed, a tiny desk, a closet and a bathroom. But it was enough, it was temporary
after all, and only a few minutes walk from the House of Representatives. He wouldn’t even
need his bike.
Of course, Sjoerd had offered him to stay while looking for a new apartment, because he
always had to be perfect, always had to be so lovable, as if he wasn’t already feeling so guilty
for breaking up with him. But he knew he couldn’t behave, it was not fair, so he had declined,
and frankly he needed the time to process everything.
He lied on the bed, eyes closed, thinking about the day, thinking about Jesse. He had been so
confused by his behaviour, the irrational anger, the visible attraction, all these mixed signals
he had received again and again. And for a while, he had been sure he knew what he wanted,
that he had finally deciphered the puzzle, solved the mystery, but their last encounter had
proved him wrong, so wrong. He had overstepped, gone too far and rather than apologizing,
than making it right, he had been awful, cruel.
He was supposed to love him, but all he had done was hurting him, burdening him, and all
because of what ? A glimpse of attraction he had probably invented, projected on him? He
was just selfish, ruining yet again all beautiful things around him, all these things he didn’t
deserve. The shame was unbearable, making his face hot, regret streaming down his cheeks.
He was not good for him.
His phone rang and for a moment he contemplated the sweet idea of ignoring it, of just diving
back in the raw sadness, relishing again in the sorrow and the remorse. But he didn’t. He
opened his eyes to Jesse’s smiling picture, his number on the too bright screen and his chest
clenched with anticipation and fear. 8PM, definitely too late for a work call. Maybe it was to
finally send him away, to terminate their friendship, for the better. He was trembling as he
picked up.
“Jesse?”
Silence, for long seconds, overwhelming. “Rob?” Just a whisper, it felt so intimate, stolen, his
heart was pounding and aching and he shut his eyes again, drowning in the fantasy of loving
words murmured to his ear at night, just like this. But it would never happen.
“I know it’s late but Jolein learned about... Sjoerd” his voice was so low he almost missed it,
culpability. “She insisted I invite you to... drink and have a bit of fun I guess?”
The obvious question was floating between them, and he wished he could just say no. But he
had never turned them down, it would be weird, suspicious. That was the last thing he
wanted. “I tried to convince her it was a bad idea, but...”
“I’ll be there” he interrupted softly. He could at least do this for him, as an apology for today
behaviour. Only a couple of hours. He could do that, he was strong enough. For once in his
life, he had the occasion to make things rights, to fix his mistakes. A relieved sigh was
audible through the phone, followed by a breathless “Thank you”. And the line was
disconnected.
It was Jolein who opened the door, and her smile was warm, welcoming, as she led him to the
living room, apologising profusely for her husband’s rudeness of not inviting him to stay at
least a few days with them. He refused politely the spare bedroom, he had prepaid two weeks
at a nearby hotel he told her, and while it was true, he could never had borne the culpability
of invading their lives after almost breaking their marriage. But she accepted easily his
excuse, and he would always be welcome here, she promised, before disappearing in the
kitchen to fetch a bottle of white wine.
The room was cosy, with a large grey sofa and two matching armchairs, a coffee table, a
television and toys laying here and there outside of their storage boxes. Walls were decorated
with a mismatch of kid drawings, colourful, abstract, but still beautiful in their own way. It
was a home, a true home, the kind of place, of atmosphere, that only parents could create. It
felt alive, full of happy memories, of laughers, of shared breakfast and bedtime stories.
Jesse was seated on the couch, in casual clothes, white t-shirt and blue jeans, an expression of
sheer tenderness painted of his face as he played gently with his sleeping son’s hair. He
seemed so peaceful as he looked up to him with a soft smile, so comfortable in his loving
father role. “He really wanted to see you, it’s been a while, but he fell asleep almost
immediately” he whispered, apologetically, but the joy in his eyes was burning.
This was his whole life, his whole world. Rob’s heart was aching as he sat, at the beauty and
at the innocence of the scene, knowing, deep inside him, that he could never be a part of that.
He had been a fool for believing someone would chose him over a real family, would
sacrifice something that precious, that pure, for the little love he could offer.
It was so clear now, and he wondered how he didn’t see that sooner, before starting this
ridiculous little game. The sorrow was enswathing him as he accepted the crystal glass
handed to him, and he was playing the perfect heart-broken-by-his-ex persona, silent,
unreactive, lost in his mind. But Sjoerd was absent of his thoughts, and Jesse was
everywhere.
The sweetness and fruitiness of the wine was a relief as Jolein cuddled her husband, talking
happily about their next vacations, politics, and this last book she had read. She even made a
few jokes about Tik Tok and those strange stories she had found about them, and they
laughed softy to avoid disturbing the small human resting on his father’s laps.
She was interesting, funny and intelligent, a real marvel, and his chest was tight and his head
dizzy as shame, remorse and anguish were tormenting him again and again. Witnessing their
intimacy, this domesticity he was denied, was a cruel torture, but he could not run away. So,
he bore it as a punishment for his fatuity, as an incandescent reminder his feelings were not
mirrored, an enflamed inscription on his heart that Jesse and him could never be. Their
attraction was nothing compared to the love he could see sparkling between them. He had no
right to destroy that.
The hours felt like ages and he was grateful for the dull numbing of the alcohol,
disconnecting more and more from the too personal conversation unravelling in front of him.
When, finally, the discussion dried up, he pretexted tiredness to get up and excuse himself. It
was late after all, and the three of them had to work the next day. Jolein hugged him
goodnight, then freed her husband from the small sleeping form still using him as a pillow.
Night had fall as they walked to the door. The wind outside was still blowing, the storm not
completely over, and Jesse’s curls were wild as he slightly leaned against the doorframe,
something in his gaze stopping Rob from leaving just now. He was so beautiful under the
glimmer of the lamp post only a few meters away, and for a while they just stared at each
other in silence, as waiting for the other to speak first. Then Jesse quickly glanced back at the
house, the light upstairs indicating that Jolein was putting their son to bed and was too far to
hear them.
“Thank you for coming, it was a nice evening” he finally whispered, rearranging his hair.
Hesitation was floating in the cold air, the unspoken dancing between them. Trying to stay
warm a little longer, to enjoy a few more seconds their intimate goodbye, Rob crossed his
arms on his chest, his jacket too light for the early spring night. It was also, maybe, a way to
protect his feelings, to protect himself, as the late hour, too much wine and the exhausting
day had made him too unguarded for this. “And... I’m sorry for... you know... earlier...” The
voice was no more than a breath.
“I’m sorry too... for everything.” And he was. He really was. He had realised tonight that all
of this was a mistake, he could never be enough, he could never offer him a life as good as
the one he already had. To keep playing like this, they would both lose. He smiled, but the
sadness was distorting his face, and he lowered his eyes. He felt so small, weak, exposed.
A soft hand cupped his face, a thumb stroking slowly his cheekbone, and he slightly angled
his head to savour the fleeting moment of comfort. “It’s going to be ok...” The gentle finger
wiped a lonely tear before venturing to a tentative caress of his lower lip. Salty. “We’re going
to be ok Rob”. The tone was promising, peaceful, but it, nonetheless, felt like a lie.
He delicately grabbed Jesse’s wrist, stopping him in mid gesture, and weakly left a kiss on his
open palm, trying to transmit all his love and regret by this simple action, lingering just an
instant before taking a step back.
“Say goodnight to Jolein for me”
And he disappeared in the dark.
Chapter End Notes
Hope you liked it, it was cathartic to write. See you soon for next chapter
We were just discussing politics
Chapter Summary
They needed to talk. They definitely needed to talk.
Chapter Notes
Hello everyone, this is a long update today. I struggled writing this, my mind went blank
any time I tried imagining the events, and it was very frustrating. I had to rework the
whole structure of it and change my loose plan of the complete story, but I think it was
worth it. Hope you'll enjoy it !
Two weeks. He had been avoiding him for two weeks, and it would be an impressive
performance if Jesse was not so frustrated with this behaviour. Impossible to talk to him, his
messages left unopen, always leaving the room while discussing with colleagues, no more
alone lunches nor afternoon in his office. He had raised dodging to an art, to the point he
couldn’t even reach him for work purposes.
He didn’t understand, why, what he had done, how to fix this. He had tried to be reassuring,
comforting, to show him things were going to be ok, but he had obviously failed. For a while
he had even convinced himself it was because of Sjoerd, because of the break up, but Rob
seemed happy when he was not around him. He was the problem. Maybe he had always
been.
And he was still troubled by the kiss. His hand had burnt for hours afterwards, the sensation
surviving a long shower and an even longer insomnia, tingling, a constant reminder of the
soft lips brushing his skin. How could something that sweet carry so much sadness and
sorrow, how could a gesture so simple, so gentle, hurt so much? They needed to talk, they
definitely needed to talk, he wouldn’t bear another week like this.
That’s exactly why he was waiting outside of the building, the debate had finished an hour
late, and everyone had hastily gone home already. But not Rob, and thus, not Jesse. The
perfect occasion to confront him. He was cold, the wind creeping under his jacket, biting his
skin, but he knew it was worth it when he finally spotted the light silhouette of the other man
exiting the main hall, passing him without even noticing.
“Rob!” He flinched but ignored him, walking faster, trying to put more distance between
them, but Jesse was at his side in a couple of steps, seizing his wrist to stop his flee. He
turned, ready to scream, or maybe to fight, but he wasn’t quick enough. “We need to talk”.
“No, we don’t” implacable, menacing, so sure. And a part of him would almost comply,
acquiesce, leave, because he was always so confident and convincing, unstoppable. But not
this time. “It was not a request. We’re having this conversation”
“Are you gonna make a scene here? In front of everybody?” His voice was low, calm but
dangerous, and Jesse was yet again impressed by the range of emotions he could display in
just a matter of seconds.
“If it’s the only way I get to talk to you, I will.” And he was irradiating determination,
defying him to try, offering him the power to make him beg, here, at the foot of Tweede
Kamer. Rob glared, sounding him in silence, searching for doubt, bluff, but he could not find
any lie in these words nor in his eyes. He would, he definitely would.
They were close. Jesse slowly let his thumb run on his wrist, soothingly, tentatively, oblivious
to the curious glances of some by-passers. He knew he was not the only one their touches
made weak, and he would use this to his advantage, shamelessly. Anything to end the
distance Rob had imposed them. “Please...” just a murmur only him could hear. “Give me
just ten minutes... five even”
His tone was growing desperate, his caresses more insisting, and Rob shivered, his will
starting to erode. He could not resist him, that was the root of all their problems, he was too
tempting. A moment flew by, the world around them fading away as they were enthralled
with the contact, until he broke. “Fine” He had lost this turn, not the whole game, not yet.
The invitation to follow was implicit as he resumed walking, freeing his hand with unavowed
regrets, Jesse only half a meter behind. The hotel was just a few blocks away, but the tension
kept building up, sparking and buzzing to its paroxysm as they stood as far away as possible
in the too small elevator. They didn’t dare to look, holding their breaths, trying to ignore
electricity flowing between them. Fourth floor. First room to the left. A few steps. Finally
there.
Jesse slammed him against the just-closed door, crashing their hips together, his hands
unbuttoning frantically his pale blue shirt, his mouth exploring his neck. His scent was
intoxicating, his skin so smooth under his tongue, his body so hot, appealing. The need was
thrilling, beating, his mind overwhelmed with all the sensations from where they touched,
from the passion, the lust, the promise of what was coming.
Rob leaned his head back with an encouraging moan, closing his eyes, playing with the mess
of curls under his fingers, keeping him urgently close. The room was silent except for the
sound of clothes quickly undone and harsh pantings, and he took a step back to admire his
work, delighting in the view of the exposed chest rising and falling rapidly, the offered neck,
the red blush spread on his cheeks. But he needed more, they needed more, and he was on
him again, looking for the spot on his collarbone that made him whine just a second ago.
“Is this your conception of a ten minutes talk?” Rob murmured. His tone was playful,
controlled despite the position, but his breath was shallow, he was arching against him at each
kiss, shivering, imploring more contact. But he could hear the smirk, it was so infuriating
how coherent he still was, how, even pinned against a wall, he could be the one leading.
But Jesse had finally understood, a while ago, that this was just another disguise, another
defence, like his perfect suit and haircut were protecting him in politics, his boldness and
defiance were an armour to his true feelings. And all he desired, right now, was to see him
without, to see him naked, both physically and metaphorically. To witness him losing control,
giving in, unable to think, unable to talk.
He bit his shoulder, mirroring Rob’s actions a couple of weeks ago in his office, reaping a
gasp from him, his body trembling, the hands in his hair gripping desperately. God his
reactions were fascinating, obscene, and he wished he had all night to make him cry and
plead like that again. He left an open mouth kiss on the purplish mark, in an attempt to soothe
the sweet pain, only interrupted by a shaking yet taunting voice. “If you want to talk, you’re
gonna have to use your tongue differently, you know?”
Jesse looked at him in disbelief, he would have slapped his perfect face just to erase this
triumphal smile, to, just once, take him by surprise, be one step ahead, but he suspected that
was exactly what he expected, what he desired. “Are you ever going to shut up?”
Another grin, predatory, provocative. “Make me”
Jesse groaned, heat washing suddenly over him, grabbing his hips and guiding him to the
bed, his mouth attached to his neck, kissing and biting, his grips leaving pinkish imprints on
the pale skin as he pushed him on the mattress. Each initiative was rewarded with incoherent
sounds of pleasure, and he was on his knees, unbuttoning Rob’s pants, shaking with
anticipation, when a trembling hand stopped him.
He had straightened, seated on the edge of the bed, looking at him, concern visible through
the clear need written on his face. “You’re really doing this, before we even talked” And his
seriousness seemed out of place, loud, invasive. “You’ve changed your mind?” It was no
more than a murmur, heavy, Jesse feeling inexplicably exposed, vulnerable, here, kneeling on
the carpet of the small hotel room.
“Of course not” His heart skipped a beat, relief flowing through him as he rested his head
against his thigh in an intimate gesture of abandonment. “But I need to know first. What do
you want?” It was a soft demand, but it seemed so silly. They were alone, in a hotel room,
undressing each other, making out, what he wanted was quite evident. “You”. His tone was
radiating obviousness, raw honesty, trust, so unfiltered it was painful, just like an aching
secret finally revealed, exposed to the world.
Rob smiled, but it was a strange one, not sad, nothing like the one that night, two weeks ago,
but not happy either. His emotions were unreadable, passing on his face in a fascinating
dance, but they made no sense. It was like trying to understand a foreign language, he could
see the words, but couldn’t grab the meaning. It was as if he knew something Jesse hadn’t yet
noticed. Always one step ahead.
He carefully sat next to him on the floor, his shirt still opened, but the lust had disappeared,
all of this was about intimacy. He took a hand in his, caressing it, drawing complicated
patterns on his skin with his fingers, looking at him intensely. “No, I mean what do you
*really* want.” He was so confused, he had just answered, how could it be something else?
“What’s the real reason we’re doing this? What changed since last time you rejected me?
What are you avoiding by rushing to this?”
The questions hurt, and he wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that he was
complicating the situation, making things up, but he couldn’t, his mouth was dry, his throat
tight, his eyes suddenly wet. “I-I want...” But nothing was coming, or maybe everything was,
crashing over him like a wave, destroying the denial walls he had built, flooding his mind, his
cheeks. Images of Rob, of Jolein, of this life, this joy they could never share, of this constant
weight he bore everywhere, this dull sadness, this certitude they would not grow old together,
and the certainty he could never completely appreciate the future knowing what he was
missing. What he wanted? What he really wanted?
“To forget” His voice was trembling. “To go back to normal” He covered his face, he could
not stand his gaze, hiding the tears, his words muffled and broken. “I want t-... I want to stop
thinking about you” And it was true, he would do anything, give anything, just for this to
stop. “I want you out of my head” just a whisper, no more than a breath, a wish, a prayer.
“Having sex with me won’t make this fade” And this, weirdly, sounded more like a love
confession than a refusal. Rob didn’t seem surprised by the outburst, his voice was levelled,
no sadness, no disgust, no anger. Only stating a fact, as if this one reality was comforting for
him in a strange way.
He was playing with his hair, waiting patiently for a response, untangling carefully the curls
he had pulled and gripped earlier. This display of tenderness was grounding, and finally Jesse
met his eyes, unsure if he was really ready for this conversation.
“What if it does?”
“What if it doesn’t?” quick, with a playful smile, rapidly replaced by seriousness again. “Is
this a price you’re willing to pay? This could not be undone. Could you really go back to her
afterwards?”
Jesse could not tell if this warning was truly addressed to him or if Rob was talking to
himself. Could he? Could he live his marriage despite this fault, could he handle the
culpability, the shame? He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure that was what he wanted.
Returning to her. Leaving this behind.
“Could I go back to her now?” And it was not really a question, he was too far, he had
already betrayed her, and not only today, here, but every day in his mind, in his dreams. It
was not about “if”, it was about “when”, “where”, ”how”.
“Nothing happened. We were just discussing politics.” This was a gift, the last opportunity of
an escape, the last selfless act, a final request of consent disguised as an exit door. He would
be a fool to not take it, not to buy them more time, more thinking, more options. It was no
refusal, just a postponement. It was not their time. Not yet. The game, their game, was still
on.
Chapter End Notes
I'm so proud of finally achieving 10k words !! When I posted the first chapter as a one
shot a month ago, I was convinced I was not capable of writing long stories, that it was a
fate I had to accept. I would never write the kind of fics I love to read. But I guess I was
wrong, and I'm also proud of being able to write in english, because writing in French
was so limiting. Anyway, see you soon for next chapter <3
No longer than a coffee break
Chapter Summary
Offline. Last seen four days ago. Still no sign of him, no tweet, no text, no email, no
answer to his calls.
Chapter Notes
Hello everyone, I'm back already with a new part and it is finally getting explicit! I'm
not very comfortable with writing smut, but I hope you'll like it anyway <3
Jesse opened Instagram for what seemed to be the thousandth time of the session, his hands
shaking, his heart pounding with panic. Offline. Last seen four days ago. Still no sign of him,
no tweet, no text, no email, no answer to his calls. He wasn’t at work today, he hadn’t been
yesterday neither, and no one could tell him why, no one had seen him since Friday when
they... talked.
At first, during the weekend, he had been a little frustrated with this silence, he had really
hoped their discussion would finally put an end to the painful avoiding game Rob had played.
But it was understandable, it would be weird to just go back to their usual WhatsApp
messages after what had happened. He could give him this time. He deserved this at least.
But when he hadn’t shown up for the first debate of the week, anxiety had started getting the
best of him. Was it his fault? Was he mad at him? He looked ok when he had left, but he
could have misread the situation. Had this been his last chance, their last chance? Had the
invitation to go home been a final goodbye he had missed? Were they done for good? He had
been harassed the whole day by the culpability of not having checked on him sooner, of his
selfishness, of forgetting to consider Rob’s feeling before taking any decision. Again.
He had finally stopped by his hotel room on the evening, because maybe he was just sick,
maybe he was worrying for nothing, maybe it wasn’t about him, but he wasn’t there, and he
could not sleep the following night, paralysed with fear. Had he run away? Or had something
happen to him? Was he ok? Was he unable to communicate? Was he at the hospital or was it
even worse than that?
He had scrolled again and again the news, reading recent articles about accidents, about
suicides, holding his breath each time until he was sure it was not about him, until a detail did
not match, until he was relieved for an instant before the panic enfolded him again. Nothing
could sooth him, and the morning had not brought him any comfort.
And the current discussion was not enough of a distraction neither. His chest hurt from the
tension of hours of silent anxiety, he was dizzy, he could not focus on anything, the world
was spinning, everything around being just a muffled hubbub, and he had those awful flashes
he couldn’t stop. Terrible scenarios, of losing him, of a life with another grief to bear, of
choosing flowers for a last farewell, of the cries, of the sorrow. He was drowning.
It had been years since the last time he had this kind of panic attack, this kind of intrusive
thoughts, and he could not ask for help, no one knew, no one could know, about them, about
his feelings, about what happened. To everyone else, they were just colleagues, just friends,
and friends could not worry like that for one another. He had even dismissed the concerned
questions of Jolein, because he couldn’t explain this to her, he could not do that to her.
He couldn’t breathe, it was too much, too much noises and no one cared, they were living,
working, debating, as if his whole existence was not unravelling in his hands. Air. He needed
air.
He fled the room, ignoring the curious looks, suppressing the shaking, retaining the helpless
tears that were burning his eyes. He would just check on him again. The hotel was close,
walking in the fresh afternoon could only help. He could go back to the Tweede Kamer
afterwards. It was no big deal, in this state he was useless anyway. It would not be longer
than a coffee break.
He retraced the path they had took together, the same crowded streets, all these restaurants
they ate at before covid, the book store, the bars, and finally the too bright lobby of the hotel,
the too small elevator they had shared. He tried to remember how he felt a few days ago, how
ecstatic he was, a hopeless attempt to numb the fear that kept growing, as he eventually
reached his destination. He paused. He could do that. Knock.
The door opened on a half-naked Rob, his hair dripping wet, a towel around his waist, but his
beauty was nothing compared to the relief that suddenly submerged Jesse. He felt instantly
weak, exhausted by the weight of the worry he had carried for days, utterly empty, futile.
“Dear god you’re alive” he muttered, and in two steps he was inside the room, pulling him
into a tight embrace, hiding a tear in his neck. He had never missed so much the fresh
lavender.
He was careless of his soaked shirt as he cupped his face, needing to check if this was real, if
he was truly here, if he was ok, and he met a puzzled yet not displeased gaze. He couldn’t
calm his heart, and he hesitated only the glimpse of an instant before crashing their lips
together in a desperate kiss, finally tasting the forbiddenness of his mouth, crossing this
invisible line they had drawn, destroying their last chance of a redemption.
It was immediately answered, fingers gripping his jacket with soft sigh of contentment, and
he felt warm, lightheaded, the anxiety progressively leaving his body. He relished a moment
in the sweetness of this exchange, before whispering. “Where were you? I was so worried”
Rob tensed a little, but another brush of their lips eased the uncomfortable silence. “Family
emergency-” He stole another quick peck before continuing. “Forgot my phone” And it was
clear he didn’t want to discuss any more about it as he bit his lower lip, taking advantage of
his surprised gasp to deepen the kiss, taking off his vest in a swift gesture.
“Who’s avoiding a talk now?” but it was just a gentle tease, rewarded by a chuckle another
bite. And suddenly Jesse was too aware of how little clothes he was wearing, and his cheeks
were burning as his hands roamed on Rob’s chest, almost shyly. Too focused on retracing the
fading marks he had left on his skin four days ago, he didn’t even register his wet shirt being
thrown off in a corner of the room, until he was brought back to reality by a tentative finger
traveling along his sternum, tearing a small moan from him.
“Game’s off. Bed. Now.” And it was this low and confident voice again, the one he secretly
loved so much, the one that made him weak and dizzy every time. The mattress was cool
under him as Rob straddled his waist, his weight lighting a fire in him, the lewd view of his
naked silhouette in the last rays of the sun making his heart and his body ached with desire.
Their kisses were heated, and he lose his fingers in the short hair as a mouth was floating
over his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his belly, making him sigh and quiver with
anticipation. He knew what was coming, he had fantasized again and again about this exact
moment, yet he couldn’t help the latent fear, he had never...
Skilled hands unfastened his pants, undressing him completely, he was so exposed now,
panting, and the hot breathing on him was driving him insane. He was so close, and he didn’t
dare to look, sure the simple view could unravel him. The next second felt like ages. And
then.
Hot. Wet. Shattering. Fulfilling. No coherent thoughts. Just the consuming sensation, the
waves of pleasure, rushing to his core again and again at each movement. The world was
buzzing to his ears in a strange white noise, he could feel everything and nothing at the same
time, he knew he was moaning, gripping the sheets, arching, pleading, but he couldn’t control
his body, he was outside of himself, only passion, only desire.
And strong hands were on his hips, pinning him to the mattress, keeping him from
responding to the deep motions, and he couldn’t breathe, imploring, desperate, it was too
much, it wasn’t enough. Burning, pulsing, electrifying, so close to the precipice, demolished
and rebuilt at each blazing stroke, made and unmade, as a creation under the fingers of his
artist, he existed only through him.
And he was falling, dying, but the mouth drew back and he was sobbing in despair, shaking,
supplicating, a shivering mess of need and frustration. The smile against him could have sent
him over the edge, the words could have undone him. “Not yet”.
Gentle bites on his inner thigh, and each time he was almost giving in, succumbing,
agonising in cries of denied pleasure. The tongue was teasing, trailing heated kisses on him in
an unbearable torture. “Beg for me. Beg and maybe I’ll let you”. Just a murmur, but it was all
he could hear, and he was not sure he could talk, he could barely think.
“Pl-Please...” his voice was broken, rough, his eyes closed as nails were sinking into the fine
skin of his waist, pain and bliss flowing violently. “Please... Rob...” He was growing frantic,
tears streaming down his burning cheeks, unable to handle the shockwaves of desire shaking
his exhausted frame. “Please-“ And the mouth was on him again as the world collapsed, as
his mind blanked, as he was destroyed and reunited in the same instant.
The sounds of his distraught paroxysm were echoing in the too small room, but he was too
far to notice, trembling, breathless, laying, unfocused, on the unmade bed, too heavy to
move. Lazy kisses were scattered on his skin, as soft words of reassurance were whispered to
him. “You were amazing”. Hands were playing with his hair. “You were so good”. He was
finally pulled in a tight embrace, comforting, grounding. “I’m so proud of you”.
And he was sobbing, he couldn’t explain why, overwhelmed, accomplished, whole. Never in
his life had he ever experience this kind of pleasure, this kind of abandonment with anyone. It
was not about sex. It was not about attraction. He had no way to describe it. He felt raw, but
safe, understood, completed, and he cried in the neck of Rob until only the contentment and
the trust remained.
Chapter End Notes
Aaaaand it's done, finally a little comfort for the both of them before we go back on the
hurt no comfort track I love so much. I'm a little insecure about this chapter so I'm
gonna go hide a little and work on next part. See you soon :)
A silence not for sale
Chapter Summary
Spending the night with your lover is not without consequences
Chapter Notes
Hey! A new chapter, a little short but I had this idea in mind and I spent two days failing
to write it. So this is what was I intended for next chapter, but I rewrote the plot and it's
better like that. Hope you'll like it <3
The bed was incredibly comfortable. Warm but not too hot, soft, and Jesse felt absolutely
relaxed, at peace in the last shines of the moon. He gently pulled the naked body against him
a little closer, humming at the scent that made his heart twitch, still half dreaming, the
contentment of their shared moments clouding his mind.
The sleeping form nuzzled his neck with a muffled groan, entangling their legs, and for a
while he just wallowed in the sensation of wholeness, of perfection, of unity, he lost himself
in the smell of fresh lavender and the sweet memories. Fingers drawing abstract patterns on
his back, playing with his hair, this felt like a fulfilment, an achievement, an awakening. He
wished this could last forever.
It would be so easy to fall, and he was tempted to, to come each day to him, to explore again
and again the cold beauty of his silhouette, to discover more of this forbidden pleasure he had
just skimmed, to love him until the ends of times. All these ideas, these images in his mind,
were tantalising, so close he could -almost- reach them.
But the dull buzzing of a phone brought him back to reality, and he stretched lazily to grab it,
trying not to disturb Rob, but realising in an instant how late, or rather how early, it was. He
stared blankly at the too bright screen, anxiety pounding, the missed calls and unread texts of
Jolein piling up, and the hour, 4:17. He had fallen asleep. At the hotel. After having sex with
his colleague. With his wife waiting for him at home.
He was paralyzed with fear, numb, his throat so tight he was almost choking, and the need to
flee was immense, he was shaking, he felt sick, disgusting. Shame, culpability, regrets. What
had he done? He couldn’t go back like that, smelling like him, irradiating pleasure, she would
know for sure, but didn’t she already?
The shower was too hot, burning him, like a fire sacrifice, a purification, an exorcism. But it
couldn’t wash the guilt away, it couldn’t ease the anxiety, the down spiralling. Nothing could.
He ignored the lavender shampoo, choosing the hotel odourless multipurpose soap instead,
and he cringed at the dry sensation on his hair. She would know.
His clothes were wrinkled and cold against him, he felt dirty and exposed, and his phone was
buzzing again as he ordered an Uber. He didn’t dare to answer because he had nothing to say,
he couldn’t think of an excuse, of an explanation. He had spent the night with his paramour, it
was written all over his body, all over his face. She would obviously know.
He was grateful for the placidity of his driver, tired of his late night of work, of the unfaithful
husbands and the party girls, of the couples and the lovers that passed through his car,
anonyms, oblivious to his life as much as he was of theirs. The tip was enough to buy the
silence that wasn’t for sale, and the fog lights were disappearing in the dawn as he unlocked
the front door of the too quiet family home.
Footsteps running down the stairs, a tight embrace, tears of relief. It was way worse than
anger as she was gripping him desperately, attempting to calm down, and he could only hold
her, trying to hide the culpability that was freezing him. “Are you ok? I was so worried”
And the similarity with the words he had said to Rob was like a punch in the stomach, he
couldn’t breathe, and he nodded, hugging her harder. “You’re sure? You’re not hurt? You
would tell me?”.
His heart was burning, her distress was crushing as she whispered. “Did you have an
accident? Were you attacked?” And she was frantically checking him for any sign of injuries,
her hands shaking in distraught. He gently grabbed them, caressing them soothingly, out of
habit, before pulling her against him, caressing her hair. “I’m fine, nothing bad happened to
me” And it was true, but it felt like a perjury, because something bad happened to them.
They stayed like this for a while, the morning sun highlighting the fatigue on her face, dark
circles under her wet blue eyes. That’s what he had done, and he wasn’t proud about it.
Finally, she took a step back, looking at the mess he was with seriousness, determination, as
if she had thought about this conversation, again and again. Fear and anxiety had vanished.
“This” A vague gesture towards him, towards the void between them. “Whatever it was” She
paused, weighting her words, looking directly at him. “It will never happen again. I don’t
care if it was work, a friend, your mistress. And I don’t want to know, I don’t want a lie.” Her
tone was firm, still calm, but dangerously flirting with anger. “It was the last time, the only
time.”
He had nothing to say as she continued, crossing her arms, and the hurt in her voice was
louder than the rage or the concerned, petrifying, shattering. “Now you go. You go sort your
shit. And don’t even come back until it’s done, until it’s gone. Fix this or leave.” And with
that she disappeared upstairs.
Chapter End Notes

Yes, we are back on the hurt no comfort plot line!!! The original chapter 11 was
supposed to be a break in the sadness, playful and smutty, but I guess I can't write this
kind of content. Anyway, see you soon for next part !
Just say it
Chapter Summary
Jesse is never sorry, it's never his fault.
Chapter Notes
Hello everyone! This chapter hurt my heart, and will probably hurt yours too. I had to
soften the end because I kinda triggered myself writting it, because I'm a clown. I'd like
to thank my girlfriend a lot, she helped me make this better, and she's reading and beta-
ing everything I write now.
The bed was empty and cold beside him as he opened his eyes, and he was not surprised, he
had expected it. But he missed the warm body against him, the strong arms, the
overwhelming feeling of safety their embraces had procured him. It was no secret to him that
their love could know no lazy morning, no daylight, no romance, only the privacy of silent
walls, of discreet rooms. Yet he would, at least, had wished for a kiss goodbye, a proper
farewell.
But he had his memories, all these images of the night, decadent sceneries of their passion, of
Jesse unfolding under him, succumbing again and again to pleasure. He could see it, he could
almost feel it. The shivers on his sweaty skin, the shaky breaths, the spasms, the desperate
gripping on his hips, the unfocused look as they moved in rhythm, the venturing fingers
running down his chest, then the confidence on his face as he flipped them when they were
almost done, the assurance with which he pinned him down on the mattress, how he finally
undid him with so much facility.
Nothing could take that from him. He would cherish these thoughts, these pictures, these
phantom touches, grandiose rewards after months of longing and restraint. It was worth the
pain of lonely mornings, every second of it.
He closed his eyes. It was still early, the sun only flirting with the horizon in light shades of
pinks and purples. His alarm would not ring before hours. He could lose himself a little
longer in the sweetness of their evening, just revel again in the reminiscences of all the
emotions he could write so blissfully on his lover’s face. And with all of that in mind, he
peacefully drifted back to sleep.
Knocks on the door awoke him, and he phased for a couple of seconds before getting up,
hastily passing a pair of underwear. He wasn’t expecting him, but at the look on his face he
knew something was wrong, very wrong. He could see the dried tears, the anger, the
confusion, and he could have cared but, for once, he decided not to. He only wanted to be
selfish, to enjoy the moment, he was tired of making good decisions, of being responsible.
He wasn’t to blame for the mistakes of others, he couldn’t sacrifice himself again and again,
he couldn’t forget himself for a greater good he wouldn’t be a part of. He was exhausted of
this, of feeling guilty for others, of carrying the weights of choices he had not made. For
once, just for once, he wished to feel regrets, culpability, for something he actually did. To be
punished for a fault that was his.
“Missing me already?” And giving him no time to deny, he pulled him in a messy kiss. The
answer was immediate, hot, passionate, he could taste the saltiness of tears, but an instant
later he was pushed back violently, Jesse holding his wrists to keep him away.
“Don’t” The voice was dangerous, on edge, and the coldness hurt more than the tight grip. It
was too soon for this to end, he couldn’t take it back already, after all that happened, all it
cost him. “Why not? You seemed to enjoy it yesterday.” and it was not playful anymore, it
was an attack, he would not let this burn down without a fight. He deserved a chance.
They stared, the argument continuing in silence for a few seconds, Rob defying him to deny,
to object, to reject him. And he was way better at these games, taunting, confident; Jesse
looked away. They were going to talk, to finally have this discussion that had been floating
between them for weeks. No more flight, no more escape, no more eluding.
“Don’t make me say it Rob” And that was it. The limit. The words not to use. The excuse not
to make. Because it was always like that, never his fault, never his doing. He would play but
refuse to lose, he wanted everything but not the consequences, and he would let everyone
around pay the price of his selfishness. Him, his wife, his family. All of this not to take a
decision, not to take the blame. Rob was blazing with rage. He had enough of this.
“Just say it.” He was staring directly at him, each syllable aimed to hurt, to make the most
possible damages. “Say it Jesse. For once in your life take the fucking responsibility for your
actions.” The hands were holding him harder, but he didn’t miss the slight shaking, and he
smiled with a bitter satisfaction at the pain he was causing. “Say it. Own it. Now!”
“You shouldn’t have let me!” And the tone matched his in intensity, in anger, but broken. Yet
it was not an apology, just another pathetic excuse, another way to avoid confessing the
mistakes he had made. It was oil on a brazier, wind on a wild fire, and Rob freed his wrists
forcefully, he could not handle the contact.
“You’re kidding me” But it wasn’t funny, he was overflowing with indignation, stunned by
the audacity of the claim. “I shouldn’t have let you? I am supposed to monitor you now? I
should verify you’re not fucking your life up? When you flirt back, when you set up
situations where we’re alone together, when you touch me, when you come to me when I’m
avoiding you, when you kiss me. But I shouldn’t let you? You are a grown ass adult Jesse!”
And at each pronoun he was louder, more violent, frantic. Step after step, he was getting
nearer to him, intimidating, making the other man back off, until he had his back to the wall,
until he could only confess. Anger and tension were sparkling between them, they were past
the point of no return, something had broken, something that could not be easily fixed. Trust.
They were breathing heavily, close, and for a second Rob expected them to physically fight,
and he wouldn’t lie, he craved just punching him right now. But they were too unpredictable,
or maybe it was the opposite, maybe all their reactions were always obvious, inevitable, and
Jesse roughly pulled him in a bruising kiss, swapping their position in a quick movement,
slamming him against the hard surface. “Because I can’t resist you” groaned against his lips.
Need and wrath washed over him at these words, Rob wanting to push him back and drag
him closer at the same time, and they made out violently, wrestling for dominance. They
weren’t fuelled by passion, only by rage, by desperation, and they had no time for gentle
touches. More than desire, pleasure or affection, it was mostly a continuance of their
argument, in another form, another power play.
Bites, moans, scratches, gasps, bruises, sighs, and Jesse was on his knees, his fingernails
digging into the slightly parted thighs, the pair of underwear long forgotten somewhere on the
floors. A hand was his in hair, firm, more commanding than guiding, and lewd sounds were
echoing in the small hotel room.
Rob’s head had fell back, he couldn’t look, the bliss was bitter, unfulfilling. But it was better
than nothing at all. Better than losing him already. And the anger had settled, at least. They
were gripping each other miserably as the rhythm intensified, knowing, even though their
clouded minds, that these were the last moment they’d ever share.
He rode his orgasm, his body shaking, out of breath, and regrets flew him immediately after,
and at the horrified eyes he met, he knew it was a mutual feeling. Jesse had stood up and they
stared, a couple meters away from each other, contemplating the already achieved mistake.
“How did we end here-“
“I don’t know” No more than a whisper. Then the silence again. Heavy. Jesse voice was only
a murmur, but it resembled a scream in the deafening quietness between them. “It can’t
happen again”. It was true. This was wrong, on so many levels. And it was worse of a
goodbye than an empty bed. “It won’t.”
Chapter End Notes
Hope you liked it! Next part should be a little softer if I can stick to my plan. I'm also
trying to finish this story before my vacation in late June, and start the sequel when I'll
return. But I still have a lot to write!! See you soon <3
A pretty shell
Chapter Summary
Of course it had happened again. And Rob could not take it anymore.
Chapter Notes
So, well... Idk what happened, I started listening to Maneskin and it's been two weeks
without updates. Anyway, I'm back with a new chapter, offered in collaboration with my
10 years in catholic school (if you can find all biblical references, you win a cookie).
Hope you'll like this.
Of course it had happened again, their momentum was too great, nothing could kept them
apart. They could pretend, for a few days, for a few weeks, but they would ultimately fail, fall
back, sink again. They were like celestial bodies outside of their orbits, attraction between
them was critical, they could dance around each other all they wanted, they would eventually
collide and only destruction would remain.
A month had passed by, or maybe two, and the small hotel room had finally been abandoned
for an unfurnished and impersonal apartment, far from the centre, close to the sea. But in the
privacy of the unfamiliar bedroom, their affair felt more like an addiction than a love story,
irresistible, consuming, unsatisfactory.
Once they were done, barely, the stolen moment quickly forgotten, they would already be
thinking about next time. And each encounter was more and more a bittersweet release, a
quick fix, a habit, a reflex. What had drawn them together, this spark that Tik Tok had ignited
what seemed an eternity ago, had died somewhere behind hidden doors, the secrecy, the
indecision choking them, spoiling the beauty of what they could have been.
Rob had contemplated the irony for hours, how he had fled the loneliness of his life to finally
lose his relationship and his friend to this, how he had always known it was a mistake, yet
pursuing it like a fool, how he had bet everything on a losing hand, with so much confidence.
It was laughable, pathetic, yet he was not strong enough to stop this, and the helpless hope
was destroying him.
The sky was too grey and sad for an early morning of June, and he could hear the wind
blowing and the faint sound of crashing waves in the overwhelming silence preceding a busy
day. Jesse was fast asleep, peaceful for once, no denial, no lies in the soft lines of his face,
entangled in off-white sheets bought not so long ago. He had not spent the night since their
first time, their first break up, and it was strange to have him there in the nascent lights of a
nostalgic Saturday.
Jolein was out of town with the kids for the weekend, he suspected the need to distance
herself from her husband, and he could only understand and envy this. He, too, wished he
could fly far from this trap, far from this doom attraction, to have the courage to end this.
He admired her, her strength, her fidelity, her devotion. How she was sacrificing herself for
her family, how she was achieving the selflessness he was incapable of, yet remaining
dignified in the process. This was true love. Not just the joy and the bliss of a shared
moment. True love was ugly, messy, it hurt. It was not always worth it. Yet it had to be.
He strangely felt close to her, on a spiritual level, while being the root of her suffering, and he
wanted to be her, but not in a jealous way. He’d rather be the cheated husband than the lover,
rather be the home, steady, familiar, suffocating sometimes, than the secret hotel room, rather
be the ordinary affection than the passionate sex. Because Jesse was always coming back to
this, to her.
Despite his adrenaline-high promises, his moaned oaths, his empty vows, his broken
covenants, he would always betray these words, because she was his true future, and he was
just a passing fancy. It was her, always had been. She was his guiding star. Yet they had a lot
in common. They could have been friends. In another reality.
His eyes went back to Jesse, to the almost angelic features, to the glorious nudity, too
beautiful to be anything but a work of art. The scene had a divine quality, the traits of a
sculpture, the drape around his hips reminded him of master paintings, he was a temple he
had profaned, a stolen artefact, fascinating, attracting, painfully radiating an unreachable
fulfilment, an inaccessible peace, unmoving, unshakeable. He was not his. He never had.
Never would.
He had no tears anymore, not had in a while, only in a state of dull torpor, a detached
observer of a cataclysm he had created, as if watching the flood destroying everything he had
arrogantly built for years, with a morbid captivation. He couldn’t look away.
He knew he should savour their morning, it would probably be months before their next
occasion, but even this seemed corrupted by the lies they were embroiled in. It was no
blessing. He was feeling claustrophobic in the impersonal apartment, suffocating with the
guilt that he couldn’t silence anymore, he was out of place here, like a stranger in this place
he tried to call home. It was transitory, it would not last, he had this strange certitude, he
wouldn’t live here for long.
He longed for the soothing presence of the sea, for a walk on the beach, for the forgiveness of
the waves, no judgement, only the shushing of the moving waters. If she could transform
mountains and cliffs into sand, so small he could hold the world in his hands, she could easily
crystallise his grief and culpability into so tiny pieces he wouldn’t be so heavy to bear.
He sighed, abandoning the lukewarm bed with just a regretful caress to the wild curls of his
lover. He had to leave. It was an evidence. As the door was quietly closing on himself, he
realised he was taking an almost cruel pleasure at the idea of Jesse awaking alone for once, of
being the one who was flying away in the first hours of a new day. A bitter revenge for
countless lonely mornings, with the cold sheets as only companions, and fainted scratches on
his back as only memories.
Maybe this would finally open his eyes, make him realise that Rob would not be waiting for
him forever, that he didn’t own him. Maybe he’d look for him, be desperate again, maybe he
would truly stand a chance then. He brokenly laughed at this burst of hope, smothering it
immediately. It wouldn’t happen, because it was never Jesse’s fault, everything was about
him, but never because of him. He would never question himself.
The air was cool, salty, the wind blowing, the promenade deserted, too early, too grey. The
colour of the sea was indescribable, tormented, disappearing far away in the heavy clouds.
Majestic. Overpowering. Humbling.
And for a while he forgot about all his problems, strolling, his now bare feet sinking into the
wet sand at each step, his eyes searching for a pretty shell among the colourful pebbles. It had
always been his favourite activity, it was calming, comforting. A silver glimmer caught his
attention, but it was only a polished scrap of metal, not a seashell. He remembered how much
more there were when he was a child, all shapes, everywhere, but the global warming had
made them rare on this beach.
This sad thought led to another one. This one thing he had put away for days, not daring to
really contemplate the idea. The email. The proposition. Last year, he wouldn’t have even
considered it, maybe he wouldn’t even have opened it. But he was another person now, so he
had read it. Multiple times.
It was a great opportunity to be honest. It would be good for his career, for his image, for his
party. He would expand his network, meet new people. And Copenhagen was a beautiful city,
he loved Denmark. And it was not every day the European Environment Agency had a job
offer for a Dutch politician. He could thank his Tik Tok celebrity for this at least. Yet he was
unsure, because he was under the impression his motivations were wrong. He had so much
reasons to go, but the biggest one was a flee.
It was a six months mission. Six months far from him. Six months to finally forget him, to
move on, to heal, and then to go back to his normal life. It would be just a break in his
parliamentary life, a blink, he could just focus on work.
It was so tempting to just take it, to disappear, to leave him definitely behind, it was his get
out of jail free card, his joker, a checkmate in two. It would be the best for everybody, an easy
win. The best for him, for Jesse, and for Jolein. His heart hurt in a painful protestation. He
ignored it.
He could at least talk about it to Sigrid, it would do them no harm. And she would be discreet
of course...
Chapter End Notes

Honestly this chapter was mostly an excuse to write some descriptions, because I was in
the mood. I started writing another fic on this ship, "This light between us", it's more on
the fluffy side, you can check it out if you want, i'll update it soon too.
Curtain Fall
Chapter Summary
There's a peaceful quality in something close to its end, a strange feeling of

abandonment that would not fade, resignation and acceptance, and the faint but
gleaming promise of freedom.
Rob leaves.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
They would end up hating each other. Rob could not remember the first time this exact
thought had occurred to him. Perhaps it was during a guilty night, between stolen gazes,
illicit kisses, somewhere in their doomed love. Maybe he had always known it. Or maybe he
only realised it now, when it was finally ending.
But somehow, in the course of the past six months, he had accepted that for the truth it was.
He had added this certitude to the burden he was carrying with him, close to the shame, the
regrets, the sadness, had worn it like a flower in his buttonhole, a constant reminder of what
was coming, a tribute to the pain.
They would hate each other. And it would be his fault.
Yet…
Yet there was a peaceful quality in something close to its end, a strange feeling of
abandonment that would not fade, resignation and acceptance, and the faint but gleaming
promise of freedom. Memories offered themselves in a strange dance, on the melody of
farewells, and he took the time to feel them, to listen, to reflect.
A last month of school in Nijmegen, a last week of summer in France, a last day of a journey
in Ethiopia, a last hour in a room once his own, where he grew up. A bedroom which would
become no more than a testimony of a childhood left behind. Melancholy and hope, so
painfully tied up together, and the burning regret of those moments the routine stole, those
instants not appreciated enough and then, in the tragedy that is time, lost forever.
Yet, this was the last occasion to relish in the familiarity, in the simplicity of habits, to
contemplate and meditate, the good, the bad, before diving into the unknown, before running
again, oblivious to the minutes passing by. Before the next ending, the next mourning of this
life he was too rushed to enjoy before it was already too late.
It was surprisingly easy to move to another country when no one cared. He had achieved to
push everyone away, one by one, his - ex - boyfriend, his - ex - best friend, his - ex -
colleagues, even his close family, fearing the judgement, the humiliation, the rejection, until
the lies had cost him far more than honesty ever would have. No explanation given, no
answer to their questions, their reaching.
Frightened by the loneliness, the darkness approaching, he had burned every bridge,
barricaded every way, locked every door, destroyed every key. No help could be expected
after that. And he didn’t deserve any.
So no one noticed when he went absent to drop some furniture and books to a deposit box in
town, nor when he switched back to the small hotel room that had seen so many of his faults.
Not even Jesse, no, they would perjure his vows, destroy his promises in the indecency of the
Tweede Kamer, in conference rooms, locked offices, abandoned corridors. No word
exchanged, only crumpled shirts and desperate gripping, fleeting moments after long hours of
work.
There were nobody to comment on his emptying schedule, his lack of involvement in the
party decisions, on the bags under his eyes, and the violence of his silences. Remorses and
pretences were his only companions to bear the weight of secrets, drowning him, devouring
him, until he couldn’t breathe anymore.
He was leaving. And in the grey epilogue of the day, in the almost bare office, he could relish
on the absurd fantasy that Jesse didn’t know. That he would not come. That they would not
argue an ultimate time. That, for once, he would be the one to depart without a word, with no
care for consequences, the one to have higher priorities. He just wanted to be selfish, once, as
if stealing a man from his wife and family was not enough greed for an entire lifetime.
He threw another stack of files in the too full cardboard box, struggling to tape it close. He
had no time nor space for this bitter anger, this self hate. Two more drawers and a shelf to go,
and four hours before his flight. The desk was a mess. He sighed.
Someone knocked. The door opened, the door closed, and he didn’t need to turn to know who
it was. His office was silent for a while, aside from some packing noises and their light
breathing, and it seemed to last an eternity.
“It is true then, you’re really leaving”
A few month ago, Jesse would have probably scream, and they would have fight, and they
would have fuck on the cleared desk, until regret came. But they were maybe too exhausted
for this rehearsed dance, too close to the final act to care, when the curtain was about to fall
on this story they had shared for too long.
He let the void answer for him.
“It’s because of us, because of me, isn’t it ?”
The voice was closer, softer, a little broken, and it was the most he had spoken to him in
weeks. The irony burnt the corners of his eyes - blurry - as he kept emptying one of the
drawers, putting files and books into a box, head down. He wasn’t strong enough to reply,
they both knew it was the truth, and nothing good would spring from this kind of discussion.
The contact - a tentative hand on his shoulder - took him by surprise, he stopped, finally
turning towards the other man, and he leant against the desk for support. The artificial lights
of the room painted hard shadows on Jesse’s face, and he could see the tell tale signs of
fatigue, dark circles, worry lines. He seemed older, the boyish innocence of April lost to time
and mistakes, and December wasn’t a good look on him.
“It’s not forever. I’ll be back.”
The words didn’t appear to appease him, as he sat next to him, observing the empty room
with wonder, tucking a fallen curl behind his ear. “Will you ?”
Silence hung between them for a while, undisturbed, the question heavy of implications, and
they could almost hear the ticking of the clock he just realised he had forgotten to pack.
“My life is here. I’ll be back.”
He nodded, and Rob went back to the mess he had yet to sort through, ignoring the open
conversation still floating in the air.
He fumbled with cardboard boxes and tape for a few minutes, and this drawer didn’t seem to
end, frustration and stress building up as the time to leave was fast approaching, before a
touch gently interrupted him again, surer than before.
“Come on, I’ll finish that for you, don’t worry. You have a flight to catch.”
“Thank you”
They didn’t hug, but Jesse kept his hand on his arm longer than it was appropriate, warm, and
his smile was wobbly, not enough to lessen the sadness veiling his face. He opened his
mouth, trying to speak, but somehow he couldn’t, and took a step back, letting him go.
It was 7pm, so he grabbed his coat and suitcase that had been waiting for him next to the
chair, and marched to the door. He was stepping outside when the voice broke the silence,
barely louder than a whisper, yet echoing, unmistakable, against the bare walls.
“Do you think I could have been a part of that, of your life ? In another reality ? That we
could have worked, if things had been different ?”
The matter was absurd, but it cut deep into his chest. But it was too little, too late. There was
nothing to salvage, no hope to keep.
“Because I think I lo-”
But he didn’t let him finish. This had to end. He was moving on, for the both of them.
“Can you do something for me Jesse ?”

“Anything.” he responded immediately, and he could easily picture him straightening up,
ready to act.
“Make things work with Jolein.”
And without a last look, without waiting for a protest, an answer, he left, closing the door
behind him, on this relationship, on them.
It was all just a game.
And there was no winner.
Chapter End Notes
It took me two years to write this final chapter, and I'm very sorry about that. It was not
my original idea, I had planned a last fight, but they are tired, and maybe I'm too. This
story taught me a lot, I received a lot of very nice reviews, and I'd like to thank you all
for that. I'm not sure people will read this final chapter, but I'm in peace with finishing
there. It's a little meta, a little ironic. Now I'm sailing to another ship, maybe we'll meet
again there <3
End Notes
Hope you liked it :) maybe I'll write a second part, maybe not, I'm not sure yet. I'd be happy
to read your opinion on that
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

All Just A Game

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All just a game

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/30797882.

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It was just a game. It was supposed to be.

It was all just a game, and tomorrow he'd just lose.

Rob is not the only one having trouble sleeping.

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Nonetheless, he was troubled, confused by what he saw tonight. Contrarily to Jolein, he

Chapter End Notes

Rob and Jesse have a private meeting at night.

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Jesse is trying to sort out what he wants while comforting Rob.

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A shared heated night. Updated rating to Mature

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Chapter End Notes

See you soon for next part, hope you enjoyed it !

Jesse needs this situation to stop. Right now.

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“You wanted to see me ?”

“Are you sure about that?”

Chapter End Notes

See you soon for next part !

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“So, which one is it?”

“By the way, Sjoerd is not my boyfriend anymore”

Chapter End Notes

Regrets, late night invitation and missed opportunities

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Say goodnight to Jolein for me”

And he disappeared in the dark.

Chapter End Notes

They needed to talk. They definitely needed to talk.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Another grin, predatory, provocative. “Make me”

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter End Notes

Spending the night with your lover is not without consequences

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Chapter End Notes

Jesse is never sorry, it's never his fault.

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“How did we end here-“

Chapter End Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter End Notes

There's a peaceful quality in something close to its end, a strange feeling of

They would hate each other. And it would be his fault.

“It is true then, you’re really leaving”

He let the void answer for him.

“It’s because of us, because of me, isn’t it ?”

“It’s not forever. I’ll be back.”

“My life is here. I’ll be back.”

“Because I think I lo-”

“Can you do something for me Jesse ?”

“Make things work with Jolein.”

It was all just a game.

And there was no winner.

Chapter End Notes

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