8 - Revelation
Leander Chase-Morgan
"I'll give you time to take care of your husband before we leave," Darren had purred as they went back inside.
Leander had barely needed a glance to see that Tristan's conversation had gone as well as his own, even if it clearly hadn't ended so luridly.
His husband was entranced, trembling and needy at the feet of that incredibly hot Muscle Daddy who wanted to dominate him.
When they were dismissed, Leander barely managed to get him upstairs before claiming his mouth, pinning him against the hallway wall.
"Yes?" he asked breathlessly. He was already half-hard again just from talking kink with that intoxicating dom. He knew he could easily give Tristan anything he needed. "You want him, right?" He pulled at his husband's pants, rubbing the straining shaft of his cock.
"So much," Tristan whimpered, arching up into his grip. "Oh God, love, I - " As Leander was trying to get his pants open, he gave a sudden gasp of delight, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a room nearby.
Immediately, Leander saw what had caught his attention: the rocking horse they'd talked about at the beginning of the night had become available, the women who'd been using it wiping it down.
Leander offered them the garbage bin helpfully, thanking them. Then he started to shuck off his suit as Tristan selected the perfect dildo from the case on the wall for him, fastening it into the seat.
"You're so good to me, my sweet Bunny." Leander pulled him into a hard kiss before grabbing the lube. "Come fuck yourself on my cock and tell me all about that hot dom downstairs."
"Gladly," Tristan moaned, giving himself over to his care.
~~~
This is going to be the most incredible weekend.
Leander could feel it in his bones. Even after what Darren had done to him in the backyard, it didn't take him long to get off again with the dual pleasure of fucking himself on the pumping toy while Tristan rode him with unfettered need.
They cleaned up, and Tristan changed before heading out one of the side entrances to where the men had told him they'd parked.
"Muscles doesn't drink," Tristan murmured as they went down the stairs, taking off his mask.
"I'll get one of the sparkling ciders left over from New Year's and put it in the blast chiller.
Or we can have coffee. We should be in good shape for breakfast tomorrow, and we can....
" Then his voice trailed off as he stopped stock still at Leander's side.
Leander followed his gaze. A few cars ahead down the drive, the two figures who were clearly the men they'd just met had finished loading up a car. The blond - Muscles - pulled the hatchback closed. Leander turned, concerned, to find his lover staring wide-eyed. "You alright?"
Tristan's mouth opened, then closed again, shaking his head. "He looks... no, he can't be..."
"Tristan?" Leander asked, more concerned.
Tristan swallowed visibly, then gave a slow nod. "I... think I know him. Miles Bennet."
Leander tried to remember if his husband had ever mentioned the name before. "I'm sorry... who?"
Ahead of them, both men turned, catching sight of them. Muscles - Miles? - stared at Tristan with the same kind of puzzled recollection. He moved closer. "Have we... met before?"
"Miles." The unfamiliar name left Tristan's lips again, followed by a surprisingly bittersweet smile. "It's been a while since we... I was sixteen the last time we saw each other."
Miles's face lit up with recognition. "Little Tristan Chase." Then he was crossing the drive, pulling Tristan into his arms without hesitation.
Leander was distracted from the mystery of their recognition by how incredibly sexy they looked together.
He'd admired the sub's - Miles's - physicality during their performance, of course, strong and built and very well-kept.
But Darren was as tall as Leander and very nicely kept, too, so he hadn't provided much contrast. Tristan, however, slight and short, seemed even smaller in Miles's strong embrace.
As he wrapped his arms around Miles's neck, Leander's mind produced a wealth of lurid fantasies of Miles picking him up entirely and carrying him off to have his kinky way with him.
Darren caught Leander's gaze with a smile. "Hello again, Leander. This is my husband, Miles. It seems we might have more of a connection than we thought?"
"So it seems...." Leander looked at Tristan, then Miles, then back again. He forced himself to firmly push away all the incredibly arousing fantasies of everything he and Darren had talked about. If they had a history, he'd have to tread more cautiously.
"It's nice to officially meet you both. This is my husband, Tristan. Do you two know each other?"
Miles nodded. He drew away from the embrace, unexpectedly stiff as his eyes slid away from Tristan. "Tristan was close with my younger brother before he died. We... lost touch."
"...Yeah," Tristan agreed after a moment, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
There was old pain there, Leander could see, as well as something else. Some kind of... regret? He let a hand rest at the small of Tristan's back.
"Perhaps we should catch up somewhere more private?" Darren offered. Unmasked, the gentle confidence in his smile was even more unmistakable. The butterflies Leander had been fighting the entire time they'd been in the garden took flight again, making his stomach somersault.
He rarely got nervous after all his life experience, but between how incredibly sexy Darren was and finally having a chance to maybe get what they'd been wanting for so long, the stakes couldn't be higher.
Whatever still sat between Tristan and Miles, he had to believe that it would be a good thing. He'd do his best to make sure it was.
"We'd like that very much, Darren."
~~~
Tristan Chase-Morgan
Falling in love with Miles had been inevitable.
Not in love, Tristan reminded himself, irritated that his mind had jumped to amplify the memories of his youth into some ridiculous romantic trope.
It had just been a crush. Tristan had been barely fourteen when they'd first met, only beginning to even discover his own sexuality.
It had been a stupid teenage crush on a safely unattainable older boy.
And yet, looking across the table at Miles over cups of decaf espresso at their kitchen table, Tristan knew it had been more than that.
"How've you been?" Miles asked, with the same gentle kindness he'd always shown him. "Still into the sciences?"
"A bit," Tristan said, his smile wry. "We moved to Boston so I could run my own research lab at Harvard, although we're a startup now, thanks to Leander.
" He smiled at his partner with a rush of affection and pride.
"I met Miles because his brother, Keith, was the only kid my age in the advanced science courses in summer school.
Miles was on chauffeur duty for our carpool. "
Meeting Keith had been such a joy. In previous years, summer school had always been about focusing on the class work and hoping that the rest of the students, older than him, would just let him learn instead of assuming that he'd be dumb and useless because he was younger.
He'd finally had a collaborator in Keith.
Then Miles had shown up to pick Keith up - blond, heart-stoppingly handsome, and so immediately kind and respectful.
Realizing that Tristan's new house was close enough to Miles and Keith to carpool, and that he'd be seeing a lot more of this handsome older boy, had changed his world in ways he'd never expected.
Tristan was still amazed that he'd managed to get past tongue-tied shyness to even have a conversation with Miles.
They'd done things together after school, too.
Sometimes with their younger sister, Ashley, or some of Miles's friends along for the ride, though none had ever been as hunky as Miles was.
But part of that hunkiness had been how Miles immediately stood up to anyone who questioned his younger brother's presence, or intelligence, or anything.
He was unquestioningly protective of him, and Tristan by extension as well.
For the first time, there was someone other than his parents who wasn't questioning what he wanted to learn or if he was capable; on the contrary, Miles treated them both as if they were
as capable as any of his other friends. Sometimes more so.
Even when they started school in September - both freshmen, while Miles was a junior - Miles was still their carpool and visible protection.
Tristan didn't miss how in those crucial first weeks of September, Miles or his friends were somehow present exactly when they needed to be, making sure the other kids knew that these two young boys were scholars, not nerds.
Making sure they were protected from the kids that would have 'othered' them.
Tristan genuinely liked Keith. But if it hadn't been for Miles, Tristan suspected their friendship would have become much like the ones he'd had before they'd moved: focused around school and projects and learning.
It was more comfortable to spend his alone time reading.
In retrospect, he understood how beneficial it had been to form a real, deep friendship with Keith, teaching Tristan how to better open up to new friends like Rhett that same year in high school.
If he hadn't, maybe he wouldn't have even been able to open up to Leander years later.
Plus, staying over at Keith's house on the weekends meant seeing Miles more often.
If he woke up before Keith, he could curl up in his window seat and read while Miles worked out in the yard or cut the grass, sometimes wearing nothing but gym shorts.
He could suggest they go to the park after summer school, which meant they could work on assignments together on a blanket under the trees while Miles and his friends played catch. And going to the pool....
How many times had his fantasies that summer involved Miles? He knew Miles would never want him like that when he was so much older than Tristan, but that didn't mean he couldn't imagine it.
"I've seen the way you watch me," Miles would say in his fantasies, tugging Tristan somewhere where they could be alone.
A quiet corner of his backyard, behind the bushes at the park, or the change room at the pool.
Or perhaps even parked somewhere in his car; it didn't matter.
Miles would call him smart, cute, irresistible.
His kisses would be so sweet, but so hungry, his hands everywhere on Tristan's body.
"You drive me crazy, Tristan. I can't pretend anymore.
I have to have you. I have to make you mine. "
Tristan couldn't even remember the number of times he'd gotten off to thoughts of Miles, or how long Miles had dominated his spank bank even after... how they'd ended. After he'd ruined things.
Maybe it would have stayed a secret, impossible crush if the accident had never happened. Maybe he would have been safe. But then the first snowfall in late October had changed everything. Both Keith and their mother died in a car crash, changing so much for Tristan and even more for Miles.
It was the first time Death had come for anyone Tristan was close to.
The loss of a friend, of someone so similar to him, left a jagged, dark hole in his life.
The tragedy of Keith's lost potential crushed him, and looking back, Tristan could admit that part of it was discovering the fragility of his own mortality.
It had made him even more determined to learn, to understand as much as he could, and to find some way to leave his mark in a way that would make the world a better place.
Then, as he'd sobbed at the gravesite, watching Keith's sister Ashley cry into her father's chest, Miles had moved to Tristan's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding him close as they cried quietly together.
Tristan had wanted to be close to him, not because Miles was handsome or kind, but because he was hurting.
Even though he could do nothing to lift Miles's grief, at least they weren't alone in it.
He hadn't expected Miles would offer him a ride home afterwards. Or, that when he dropped him off, he'd say, "I'll pick you up for school at the regular time on Monday." Part of him knew he ought to decline. But even as young as he'd been, he'd understood how desperately Miles needed him to agree.
Sitting at their kitchen table over hot beverages with their husbands, Darren was the one to bring it up as the polite small talk of introduction faded. "So... you knew each other growing up. It seems it was a bit more than that, though. Wasn't it?"
Tristan stared down at his tea, stomach tying itself in another knot.
He'd barely been able to talk on the drive to their house, more grateful than ever that Leander was so easily extroverted and chatty.
It was impossible not to think everything he'd hoped for was ruined.
Even if Miles was driving them home, surely they wouldn't want to stay, or at least not to do anything more than sleep.
The choice that had haunted him for so long was going to ruin everything. Again. And this time, he wouldn't only be hurting Miles.
He could feel the weight of Miles's gaze on him as he stared down at his cup, giving him the opportunity to speak first. The knot in his throat was too tight.
Finally, Miles cleared his throat softly. "Tristan was kind enough to help me get through my brother's death," he said to Leander and Darren, lacing his fingers together around his cup of coffee.
Tristan nodded, letting out a trembling sigh. That couldn't really be how Miles remembered it, could it?
But of course, that's all it had been. Tristan's feelings had been a one-sided young crush.
Still, he couldn't pretend they'd been nothing. He couldn't lie to Leander and he couldn't lie to himself anymore.
~~~