9 - A History with Miles
Tristan Chase-Morgan
"It was my last year of high school, and Tristan was a sophomore. I'd always felt very protective of him and my brother. I knew there was nothing I could have done to change my brother's death, but... part of me felt that if I could at least take care of Tristan, then I hadn't failed Keith."
"I'm really sorry I ruined that, Miles." The words slipped out before he could stop them, heavy with regret.
It had lessened over time, but never fully gone away.
How could it, when he had so much to be sorry for?
He'd hurt Miles, and he'd never even been able to bring himself to apologize.
Even if he'd known how to and gotten over his own heartbreak to do so, when he'd messed up everything, it had been the last day of regular classes before exams. Miles had already been accepted to college and had a full-time summer job lined up to help pay for it.
It was one of the things that had finally pushed him to...
They'd grown close over the rest of the school year.
Both Tristan's parents worked late, so it was easy to agree to go home with Miles and work on homework while Miles cooked for his father and sister, and then to stay for dinner.
The afternoons that Miles had track or wrestling, Tristan would do his homework on the bleachers.
Or sometimes, when Ashley had clubs that ran late, Miles would come take him home to Tristan's house and help him with homework until it was time to leave and pick her up.
Miles had been at his house on that last day together when Tristan finally admitted his attraction.
He'd been shaking so hard that he'd barely been able to speak, nearly in tears with nervousness and falling all over the words he'd managed to get out.
Even now, he couldn't quite remember what he'd even managed to say before he'd leaned in and pressed his lips to Miles's.
He hadn't known what to expect, or even what he wanted, only that the enormity of his feelings - more than anything he'd felt for anyone in all his sixteen years of life - made it impossible to hold them back.
He knew he'd made the wrong choice the moment he'd pulled away. When he'd witnessed Miles's shock giving way to the very grief he'd wanted so very much to help lift.
"I'm sorry," Tristan had sobbed then, even as Miles pulled him close, holding him nearly painfully tight. "I shouldn't have - I just wanted - I wanted my first kiss to be - "
"It's alright," Miles had choked against his hair. "It's okay. Oh God, Tristan, I - " he'd pulled away, eyes bright, running one hand restlessly over his hair, over the side of his face, his eyes bright with tears. Then, Miles leaned in and pressed a hard, trembling kiss to his lips.
There was nothing sexual about it. But it had been everything Tristan had ever imagined and more. So much better than his own awkward kiss. Every part of him might have melted completely if his heart hadn't been breaking. If every moment of Miles's hug hadn't been infused with that grief.
"I love you so much," Miles said, voice rough and broken. "You're so special to me, Tristan. I'm so sorry I can't... Things can't be the way you want them to be."
Of course they couldn't. He'd always known that.
But it didn't make it hurt any less. Nor did the fact that Miles had continued to hold him so tenderly, brushing the tears from his cheeks.
Soothing him with the same gentle kindness that had caused Tristan's crush - no, that had made Tristan fall so desperately in love with him - in the first place.
"I promise you can call me whenever you need me," Miles had said fervently. "I'll call from college with my new number. You can always call me, Tristan. Always. I just can't - I can't be your boyfriend."
"I know," Tristan had whispered, and accepted his apologies.
Miles kept his promise and called, but Tristan had been too awkward and heartbroken to truly engage the same way he once had. He could tell that Miles felt the same. Those calls had quickly dwindled to every couple of months, then to none at all, until he'd lost track of Miles altogether.
He'd told himself that was how it always should have been. That it couldn't have been anything different without hurting Miles more. Now, gazing across the table with all his memories tumbling back, it was hard not to worry that he was going to end up hurting Miles again.
Miles reached across the table to cover Tristan's hand with his own.
"You didn't ruin anything," he said, brows knitting in concern.
"Tristan... nothing happened between us, and your feelings for me weren't your fault.
You were sixteen. I was the one who was projecting, I shouldn't have...
After Keith died, I needed you to need me, and that wasn't fair to you. "
"I was in love with you before Keith died," Tristan admitted, which was as much of a relief as the apology. "And I knew nothing could happen between us. I always had. I just..."
"Everyone's first crush has a lot of very big feelings involved, doesn't it, darling?
When we're young and don't understand how to deal with those kinds of emotions?
Especially when it's a crush on someone older, and nothing can happen between you?
" Leander moved a hand to rest at the back of his neck, stroking gently, and Tristan cast him a grateful smile.
"Yes," he agreed. "Very much so."
"Neither of you did anything wrong, no matter how you felt," Darren agreed across the table, and Tristan watched Miles cast his husband a relieved look.
"Regretting how things ended can just make it feel that way.
But that's all the more reason to catch up.
I'd love to hear more about your research lab, Tristan. "
They finished their drinks as they talked, and Leander silently opened a bottle of wine and the sparkling apple cider. Tristan was rather relieved to have a reason to switch to it when the wine was done instead of the very real possibility of drinking entirely too much to calm his nerves.
Leander sat with them until he couldn't keep his eyes open; he'd had an early morning, a conference call with Europe.
"I'll get them settled in the guest house and come join you," Tristan said immediately, but Leander shook his head.
"It's barely midnight, and you have so much to catch up on." His husband cupped his face gently, his smile warm and encouraging. "Please stay up without me. As long as you like, darling."
"But..." Tristan glanced at their guests, his stomach doing a flip. Could he handle spending time with them without the reassurance of Leander's love and care?
"Please," Leander pressed softly. "As long as you want. And... whatever you want. It's after midnight, after all."
The idea of Miles wanting him after so long was insane, but it didn't stop the wave of heat that filled him from the idea. But it wasn't what they'd agreed on. "Not without you," he said softly.
"I'll be right upstairs."
"You know that's not what I mean." Tristan tried to put all of his anxious uncertainty into his gaze.
I need you to help me do this, he ached to say, pulse pounding.
He ached for Leander to stay and be in charge of whatever happened, whether or not it was sexy.
Or for Leander to tell him to come to bed, regardless of how much he wanted to have more time catching up.
But it would be unfair to ask him to stay up.
Leander's expression softened, and he nodded. "Not without me, then," he said softly, caressing his cheek. "Nothing naked, anyway. No sex, no semantics. Anything else..." he glanced at the others, smile widening. "Darren is in charge in my absence. Alright?"
God, how was the mere suggestion of such a thing enough to make him half-hard? Mouth dry, Tristan nodded. "Yes, husband."
With a pleased hum, Leander kissed him. There was so much warmth in it, so much love and encouragement that it made Tristan's heart ache.
"Good boy," Leander murmured. "I'll see you later."
"Come join us on the couch so we don't keep Leander up being too loud.
" Darren's eyes met his as Leander disappeared upstairs, motioning to the empty half beside Miles.
His voice was low and calm, entirely unassuming, and yet something about his quiet words and the look in his eyes made the gentle command unmistakable.
Tristan's chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.
He moved obediently, though, sitting sideways with his feet tucked underneath him.
Part of him longed to sit closer to Miles.
He was used to restraint when it came to Miles.
Though he hadn't expected how quickly that need for self-control would return, nor the quiet, trembling longing he felt towards him.
"Leander seems really wonderful," Miles said, watching him settle down. "I'm so happy you found someone like that, Tristan. Did he get you into kink, or...?"
"We'd both played in the scene before we met," Tristan replied. "It was a bit of a coincidence to fall in love with someone and then discover he was kinky. It's..."
He paused, draining the apple cider in his glass and wishing it were wine after all.
"Leander is amazing to me," he told them, heart aching with love despite the regret of his own shortcomings.
"He's a really wonderful dom, he really takes care of me.
But I'm not... we didn't come into this expecting...
" He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath.
"I'm not as good to him as he is to me."
"Is that how he feels, or you?" Darren asked gently, and Tristan couldn't help but smile ruefully, called out.
"It's my feelings," he admitted, after a pause.
"For Leander, kink is the icing on the cake.
But it's hard for me not to feel guilty that he doesn't get to enjoy the same kind of submission I do.
We've played a bit with others at kink events, but parties are so casual, we really haven't been able to find...
" He sighed, watching them both. "I'm sorry this meeting couldn't end up being what you wanted. "
Miles shook his head immediately. "Seeing you again was a hundred times better than anything kinky," he said, turning towards Tristan more and reaching out to take his hand where it rested on the back of the couch. "Really. I'm so glad you invited us, and I'm so glad it was you, Tristan."
It was true. Being able to see him again, to finally get everything off his chest - that was worth any small disappointment. Despite the turbulent reawakening of Tristan's old longing, or how having Miles's hand over his awoke an uncontrollable flurry of butterflies inside him.
Then, Miles's husband - the strong, sexy auburn-haired dom that had captured Leander's attention so completely - cleared his throat softly.
"Tristan... this meeting doesn't have to not be what we all hoped it might be.
If that's still something you might want.
It seems very much to be something your husband would still like.
It's something I've been trying to find for Miles and myself for a very long time.
And to be quite honest, your history together makes me want you even more for him now. "
Miles looked down with a soft, dismissive laugh, shaking his head. "Dare, we shouldn't - Tristan doesn't want - he was my dead brother's best friend. It wouldn't be appropriate - "
And that, of course, was when Tristan's traitorous kink surged even hotter, and - mortifyingly - he couldn't hold back his whimper at the desire that pulsed hotly through him.
Both Darren and Miles looked at him immediately.
Tristan covered his mouth with his free hand, ears burning, unable to meet either of their gazes. "I'm sorry - "
"It's alright, little bunny," Darren said, once again low and unmistakably dominant in a way that also went straight to Tristan's core. "But it seems there's more we need to talk about."
~~~