Chapter 14 Regrouping
Regrouping
There were a few people changing in the little den off Mal's lobby, all of whom expressed heartfelt but brief sympathies before hurrying out.
Miles was glad for a moment of privacy. He sagged into Darren as his husband leaned back heavily on the wall, pulling him with him. "How's your eye? Did it get you?"
"My eye?" Suddenly, the stinging welt along the side of his face was all he could feel. He raised his head, wincing as he caught sight of himself in the mirror on the wall. "Holy shit."
"Yeah. Surprised it didn't draw blood. Guess that's the one upside of shitty fucking rope. Less force." Darren's words held a sudden vitriol, and a tremor ran through him. "Fuck, Miles, I'm sorry."
God, Darren was just as shaken as he was. It ought to have made Miles panic more, but now that they were alone, the need to support his husband flared far stronger. He shook his head. "It's alright."
"It's really not. Dammit." Darren shook his head. "I'm sorry."
Miles rubbed his hands up his arms. "No, we're okay. And what do you have to be sorry for?"
Darren growled softly, still shaking his head.
"I don't know. Misfortune. And I should have questioned the fucking rope.
Breaks really, really suck. It took me months to start feeling confident again after my first, I didn't want.
..." He blew out a long breath. "It's not your fault. You know that, right?"
"How do you know?" Helplessness welled up inside him. "I don't even - one moment everything was fine, and then the next - "
"Because I would have done exactly what you did.
You did as I told you. And she's okay, and you didn't lose an eye, thank god.
Look, Miles. Any kink has a certain amount of risk you need to be aware of and make sure your partner is aware of.
It's completely impossible to plan for every eventuality.
Even if I switch to synthetic for uplines - which I will, if it'll help reassure you - all you can do is be attentive, have backups, and communicate.
We both did all that today. We didn't do anything wrong. "
Miles tried to push the words into his heart as truth, but Darren was still rattled. "Then why are you upset?"
"Because I didn't want this for you. Or her, obviously, but especially you." Darren stroked a hand up the back of his neck, his touch restless. "Promised I'd take care of you."
"You did. As you said, we both did everything right. I just...." Miles let out a long breath.
I don't know if I can do this again, he wanted to say, but maybe he just needed to let his nerves settle. "I just need to sit with this for a bit, I think. And rest. I'm so goddamn tired."
"Yeah." Darren let his forehead rest against his. His sigh sounded defeated. "Yeah. Let's go."
Things did feel less dire once they'd gotten home, or at least Darren seemed less irritated about their mishap.
Miles wrapped an arm around his back as they made their way into the house.
Despite only being in the townhouse for a few months, the sense of safety that washed over him when he stepped inside settled his nerves even more.
"Thank you for today," he said, as they took off their shoes. "Really, Dare. The festival was great. And, even Mal was great, before... you know. Please don't feel bad."
"I won't if you won't?" Darren raised one eyebrow pointedly, even as he was drawing him into a kiss.
Miles rubbed up and down his spine as much to soothe himself as Darren. "May I take care of you, Sir? I think I really need that right now."
Darren gave a soft hum of agreement. "Yeah. I think some casual service would be good for us both, sweetheart."
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It was a relief for Miles to sink into the simplicity of following instructions and focusing on Darren.
He felt bad asking Darren to take charge, but he knew his husband took as much comfort in the familiarity of their dynamic as he did.
It was good to sleep in, cook a late lunch, and deal with mundane house things like laundry to cap off the weekend.
It was easy to set aside the incident at Mal's when they had the kids the next weekend. Darren didn't bring it up again, and with no plans the next weekend, Miles was happy to let things sit for a bit.
Still, it was hard not to think about it as the weekend approached. When Darren suggested going out to the culinary festival that was happening at the WTC, Miles agreed. He was glad to enjoy a sense of normalcy and coax Darren into food adventures.
He finally brought it up as they made their way home. "Do you want to talk about Mal's?" He asked Darren, lacing their fingers together as they walked.
"We can if you'd like to," Darren replied, his words too careful. "I don't want to avoid it if you do. But, we may just end up talking around in circles if the stress of it is still so raw. It might be better to take some time and find comfort and confidence in what's familiar to us."
Miles nodded slowly, relieved. "I think I need that.
I'm trying not to... I don't know, jump to absolutes.
I know all these uncertainties are just the brain gremlins, and I promised Mal I'd get back on the horse.
I just don't know if I can fake it right now.
I know that's probably not what you want to hear. ..."
"It's exactly what I want to hear," Darren assured him.
"We're not on a deadline here. I love how we are together, and I'd never be unhappy with us staying like this.
I just know I can give you more. When you're ready, then you're ready.
We can take all the time we need. I just want you to feel good about it. And confident, and happy. Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. I just... I think I'm just having a hard time dealing with the disappointment."
Darren's generous lips pursed in sympathy. "It's alright to be disappointed. The suspension was going so well. You really did such a good job, love."
Even if he couldn't connect with it at the moment, Miles still remembered the peace he'd felt watching Mal sink into subspace.
It would be good to get there again when they were ready.
"Thanks. But also..." he gave Darren a sheepish half smile.
"I think part of why I'm irritated about it is that I really liked what we were talking about in the back of the truck at Folsom. "
"Yeah...?" Darren grinned and leaned closer, lowering his voice to a purr. "You want your master to find a sweet couple for us so I can order you to pick one up and fuck him for me? Maybe even both of them? We could take turns. Would you like to serve me like that, Miles?"
Heat coiled in his core at Darren's words. "When it's right. I just don't want to miss out on it because I got scared. So... I'll get my shit together."
Darren gave a pleased hum. "In the meantime, maybe we can go home so you can show your master what a virile beast you can be for me."
Miles bit his lip on a groan and nodded. "Yes, Sir. Your wish is my every command."
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On Saturday evening, they settled down on the couch to watch a game of the 3x3 ice hockey tournament being televised over the summer.
Despite the interesting new game format, neither of them had gotten particularly invested in the match that was airing.
Miles half-watched, relaxed on the couch with Darren's feet in his lap.
Feet hadn't ever been anything he'd been particularly invested in either, but he was interested in Darren.
He was definitely interested in doing things for Darren, so Miles rubbed a bourbon-scented massage bar between his hands and continued his slow massage.
Even without the mishap at Mal's, he would have enjoyed being like this with Darren on a rare, quiet weekend. He liked the warmth of Darren's bare skin under his hands, and hearing his husband hum in pleasure as Miles's fingers worked into the tension of his instep with practiced pressure.
Stretched out along the couch, Darren's attention had wandered from the TV to the tablet in his hands, idly surfing the internet.
It was good to see him casual and relaxed in their intimacy.
Miles went through the high points of the past few weeks again.
They'd had a great time at Folsom, met people, and raised so much money for an important charity.
Shimizu was running smoothly, Darren's employees content, and their members happy.
Darren deserved all of that and more. The moment Mal's upline had snapped was still a cold knot of tension in his memory, but hopefully time would continue to gently uncurl it.
It would become something to learn from instead of something to fear.
Darren's muscles tensed beneath Miles's touch, toes curling under.
Miles looked over to find his husband's attention riveted on the tablet in his hands, his lush bottom lip sucked between his teeth.
Miles had spent more than enough time focused on pleasing his husband to recognize the signs of arousal.
Miles watched him, enjoying the rapt focus and appreciation that his husband had for whatever he was looking at. Then he let his fingers smooth up over Darren's ankle, under the soft knit of his athleisure pants, to caress his calf.
"Sir," he started, letting his voice soften into the throaty invitation he knew Darren liked so well. "Is there anything I can do to serve your pleasure?"
Darren grinned, easy, appreciative. And hungry. "My good pet. Yes. Yes, I think there is."
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