Hey, this is my first, so comments and constructive criticism are welcome and much appreciated.

The story is intentionally without names. It is obvious who it is about, but it is my personal writing style.
It does feature a married man having an affair with another married man. If homosexuality bothers you, than this is not the fic for you.

Enjoy.

~Misery

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. She had spent many sleepless nights hoping that everything would just work out. But after all these years it had just become to obvious.

"You're never going to love me, are you?" He shook his head. "It's him, isn't it?" He nodded, wishing he could love her and that a certain blonde didn't occupy his every waking thought. He opened his mouth to say something. He wasn't sure if it was going to be an apology or if her was going to try to comfort her. It really didn't matter, because she spoke again before he could.

"And his wife?" He looked at her, taking in the way her eyes shined with unshed tears and the light illuminating her halo of fiery hair. "He is going to leave her." He cleared his throat and looked down. "He wants me to move in after he tells her." He looked up at her guilt in his eyes. He couldn't lie to her anymore, so he finished baring it all. "Maybe even marry." She nodded and took a deep breath, unwilling to let him see her cry.

She know this was going to happen. She had walked in on the two men in a rather compromising position a six months prior. Compromising meaning her husband had been getting fucked from behind by his married lover. After a few weeks apart, he had begged her to come home, promising the affair was over. They started counseling and had talked about starting a family. He had started seeing his lover again, almost immediately. He just could not get enough of the other man. He knew he should have left his wife when the affair started, but some twisted sense of loyalty kept him by her side.

If he was truly being honest with himself, they should have never married. He was barley nineteen, her eighteen. Everyone was still healing from the war. Her mother had just stopped bursting into tears anytime she thought of the son she lost and his godson needed him to be a father. He knew he didn't love her, but everyone was expecting them to end up together and their wedding had been the first cause for them to get together and celebrate after all the loss and heartache.

So he went along with it. At first, he was happy. She was one of his best friends and he enjoyed her company. It took him a while to figure out why the sex left him unsatisfied, as if something was missing. Most days when he got home from his shift at Saint Mungo's, he was too tired to respond to her advances. Thinking back, maybe that was just an excuse.

He had been a healer for about two years, when He began working there. Things were rough at first as they worked through their childhood animosity. Months passed and they became friends. As they spent more time together though, things started to change. He would be in bed with his wife, during the rare times they did have sex, and in his mind, it wasn't her. His wife was a beautiful woman and he should have been more excited by her. Instead his mind went to the lithe, pale body, piercing grey eyes and soft blonde hair.

One night, after an especially long day that had included several people developing the inability to quit singing muggle Broadway show tunes after touching a cursed teapot in a popular tea shoppe and the birth of duodecaplets, or twelve children, after the witch had misused a fertility potion, they had agreed to go to the leaky for a pint or two. Three pints and five shots of firewhiskey later found them pawing at each other in the alley. They broke apart for air and the blonde mentioned his wife was in France with his mother for the next week. Minutes later he was getting fucked into the mattress. Nothing had ever felt so right or so good.

The next morning, after another round, he went home to see his wife sitting at the table, worry in her eyes. He explained his chaotic day at work and said he spent the night on his mates couch after a few too many. When asked why he was walking rather oddly, he replied the couch was hard and his back was a bit worse for wear. She seemed to except his excuses and kissed him chastely, before leaving for work.

After that, they took to meeting up when ever they had a chance. A year later, they were sick of hiding it and were both done lying to their wives. They had agreed to talk to their wives over the weekend, though his had brought it up before he could. In the end, it was what he wanted though. He didn't want to hurt her, he just wanted to be able to openly admit he was gay and in love with Draco Malfoy.

Any thoughts?
Please review.