10 - Admissions
Tristan Chase-Morgan
Sitting in his living room, Tristan wished the floor would open and swallow him up.
He hadn't meant to give himself away. He and Leander had invited Miles and Darren to their house in the hopes of, at the very least, a hot foursome.
But that had been when they were all still masked.
Before Tristan had realized that Miles was his teenage first crush.
The last thing he wanted was for Miles to feel obligated or awkward.
He'd tried to do his best to stay appropriate.
But when Miles had questioned whether or not they should pursue anything given their past, in a flash, he'd once again been a shy, awkward virgin teen, longing for Miles to take the lead.
And a disobedient flash of memory combined with imagining what could be made him whimper, every piece of him aching for it.
Mortified, Tristan covered his face with the hand Miles wasn't currently holding, unable to meet either of their gazes. "I didn't mean... forgive me, Sir."
Darren gave a soft, reassuring hum. "It's alright, little bunny.
I don't think that playing together needs to be off the table at all," he said again.
His warm, low purr and unmistakable dominance made heat flare inside Tristan, wild and aching.
"There's nothing wrong with two grown, consenting adults exploring things together, no matter their past."
Tristan's pulse beat so loudly against his eardrums that part of him was convinced he wasn't hearing correctly. "But - Miles doesn't... please, don't make yourself..."
Miles's hand tightened on his, and he let out a long breath. "Tristan... I've always had a very complicated relationship with desire," he said quietly. "The kids have all sorts of weird names for it these days, but I understand myself a bit more now. I..."
Out of the corner of Tristan's eye, he could see Miles turn to look at his husband again, giving a helpless sigh. "I hardly dated anyone in high school, I felt... broken. It was hard for me to get close to anyone. And then after Keith and my mother died... spending so much time with you...."
Tristan looked at him, heart aching. "Miles - "
"Things weren't like that between us. But I cared so deeply about you.
When you told me that - when you kissed me...
it terrified me," Miles admitted, soft and apologetic.
"I knew no matter what I did, I'd end up hurting you.
I couldn't be what you wanted me to be, and I knew I couldn't keep putting my loss and loneliness on you, either.
But I didn't understand how to tell you how I actually felt.
So I... ghosted you. I know it must have hurt. "
Tristan nodded, looking down. "It did, but I ghosted you, too.
I think part of me told you because I knew things needed to end.
You were going to college, and I needed to...
find friends my own age. I just didn't know how to temper my feelings towards you without...
without blowing it all up, I guess. And I knew it would hurt you, I knew it was horrible to tell you - " Tristan's eyes burned with remembered shame and regret, and he rubbed at them helplessly, choking back a sob. "God, Miles, forgive me - !"
"Shh... oh God, Tristan..." Miles pulled him close, into his arms. Kissing his forehead, stroking his back. "It's alright. I forgave you so long ago. I never held what you did against you, sweetheart. God, please don't cry."
It felt so comforting to be in his arms again. Secure. Safe. Face buried in his neck, Tristan managed to get his breath under control. "Thank you..."
"Of course." Miles kissed his forehead again, fingers warm as he ran them through his hair.
"Sweetheart, listen... I know there wasn't anything between us then; there couldn't have been.
But it doesn't mean I don't regret it. Or that I don't regret not reconnecting with you once we were both old enough to...
" Miles sighed, sliding restless fingers down the back of his neck.
They skipped over the chain of his day collar, then returned to rub it with gentle respect. "Tristan..."
Tristan froze, barely breathing. His pulse quickened, thundering against his eardrums. Miles couldn't actually be suggesting what he thought he was... could he?
"I never stopped caring for you," Miles murmured, stroking the back of his neck gently above the collar. "And because I care for you, meeting up with you again... Could you forgive me if - if I was attracted to you now?"
Miles was attracted to him.
Tristan flushed hot, then cold, then hot again, once again the nervous, uncertain schoolboy, all mixed up with the stronger desire born of his adult experiences and the kinks he very much longed to play at.
How the hell was he supposed to answer that?
"Yes," he said, trying to breathe past the tightness in his chest. "But - it's complicated. I... I'm not who I was then."
Miles nodded slowly, stroking up and down his spine. "Neither of us is. There are things in my past... beyond the alcoholism. But I want us to get to know each other again. As more than just play partners."
The urge to throw his arms around Miles's neck and agree warred with his growing insecurities. Tristan needed to respond, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe.
"Tristan. Pick up that cushion and come here," Darren said, low and gently commanding.
Despite not wanting to leave Miles's embrace, it was a relief to have someone tell him what to do. Tristan obeyed, sinking to his knees on the throw pillow at Darren's feet between them without thinking twice. He lowered his head in respect. "Sir."
Darren leaned forward, stroking a hand over his hair. "Such an obedient boy," he murmured, low and warm. "You'd make a very, very good sub for me to train my Miles how to dom. But we all need to take some time to think things through, alright? So I'm going to ask you to do something for me."
Tristan swallowed hard, managing a small nod. "Yes, Sir."
"Good boy," Darren purred, running his fingers through his hair again.
"I want you to go upstairs and get ready for bed.
Don't wake your Master; he needs his beauty sleep.
But take a hot shower and imagine what it would be like to watch me tie him to the bed and fuck the hell out of that pretty little ass. "
Tristan couldn't help but groan, leaning into his touch. "I'd really, really like that, Sir. I want that for him."
"That's not what I asked, Tristan," Darren chided gently, hooking his fingers under his jaw to urge him to raise his head.
"I want you to imagine it. And I want you to imagine Miles, and everything I will teach him to do to you.
I want you to be very sure that this is what you need.
I need to be able to trust that you're certain.
I love my husband far too much to risk anything like this if you're not.
Especially now that I know how special you are to him. "
Tristan chanced to raise his eyes to meet Darren's gaze, which was kind, but serious and intent.
Tristan was struck, then, by how deep the love and trust between them must be.
Trust, and a touch of similarity between himself and Darren.
Perhaps it was the shared longing to give a loved one something that you weren't quite equipped to give them yourself.
Looking up into Darren's serious gaze, Tristan realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that he could trust this man with Leander.
"I understand," he said softly. "Darren... thank you. I'll do everything you've asked me to."
"Good boy." Cupping his cheek, Darren caressed his cheekbone. His gaze searched Tristan's, quietly assessing, then turned to share a look with his husband.
Heart pounding, Tristan kept his gaze firmly on Darren's chest, trying not to infer anything from what he could see in his periphery. He didn't dare try to read what passed between them. He couldn't allow himself to guess or anticipate.
"Tristan, you've been a very good boy." Darren's low purr shuddered down Tristan's spine to his half-hard length, a soft whimper escaping his throat before he could stop it.
It made Darren's warm, lush smile widen, even more noticeably crooked, which made him even more enticing.
"Because you've behaved, we've decided that you deserve a reward.
Are you willing to obey me like your husband asked you to? "
Certain his pulse must be audible, Tristan managed to nod, forcing himself to speak despite his stomach doing an entire gymnastics floor routine. "Yes, Sir."
"What a good, obedient sub. I want you to sit in Miles's lap for me. I'd like him to give you something to take to bed with you. Something to make your assignment easier."
Even with the stipulations Leander had set, too many possibilities raced through Tristan's mind.
Faintly, he recognized what an accomplishment it was to be able to think of any at all when so much blood had rushed straight to his cock.
He rose silently, keeping his burning face lowered, still facing Darren as he settled carefully on Miles's knees.
Immediately, his old friend's arms were around him, pulling him closer.
Miles stroked a hand up his spine to rub the nape of his neck, then tangled his fingers into his hair.
He let out a slow, shaky breath, warm against his skin.
"I'm so glad I found you again," he murmured, voice low and rough in a way that made Tristan jerk harder, straining at the front of his slacks.
"The moment I realized it was you, I could tell how amazing, how special you'd grown up to be.
God, Tristan..." he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Tristan's jaw.
Tristan couldn't hold back his quivering moan, turning his face towards Miles, inviting, needing.
Suddenly, he was sixteen again, aching for a kiss, feeling as if he'd break apart without some way to express all the longing tangled up inside him.
He half-expected that Miles wouldn't respond, but instead shocked pleasure crackled through him as Miles brought their mouths together.
Miles was kissing him with unmistakable desire, sucking at his bottom lip with a needy groan.
Finally, Miles wanted him.
~~~