14 - Tristan’s Struggle
Tristan Chase-Morgan
After Leander's lurid fantasies during sex, Tristan had no idea how he was going to manage to look at his old friend without blushing - or worse, cumming in his pants like some barely pubescent horndog.
Instead, he busied himself making breakfast, defrosting a package of bacon from the freezer.
He began to toast English muffins as Leander started whipping up some hollandaise in the food processor.
Darren looked very nice in Leander's borrowed cotton button-down as he and Miles came in from the porch.
He looked nice, but Miles looked nearly pornographic, the light, charcoal V-neck T-shirt he'd borrowed clinging tightly to his nicely defined muscles.
Tristan's ears burned, but before he could say anything, Miles crossed the room to wrap an arm around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Good morning, little bunny."
His words were soft and affectionate, and despite being caught in the middle of arousal and embarrassment, Tristan began to relax.
It was hard not to be reassured with Miles's arm wrapped strong and solid around his shoulders, his breath warm against his hair.
Tristan closed his eyes, turning into him and returning the embrace silently.
He sighed softly in pleasure as Miles wrapped his other arm around him, squeezing gently. "Good morning, Miles."
Leander was smiling at him when he pulled back, so Tristan smiled as well, looking up at his old friend. "I was thinking we could walk the Freedom Trail this morning and take a late lunch at Faneuil Hall, if you're interested? The weather's supposed to be beautiful."
"That sounds really nice," Miles replied, and Tristan tried to ignore how his heart fluttered at the way the corners of Miles's eyes crinkled when he smiled.
With breakfast to focus on, Tristan felt more in control of things, and he was able to relax into the gentle camaraderie and easy conversation they'd found the night before.
They were good people, his experience told him, and they weren't putting on an act for politeness the way so many did when meeting new friends.
Darren had the kind of tranquil confidence that, in Tristan's experience, came from being completely in tune and comfortable with himself.
He looked at Miles as if he were the most precious thing in the world, with such pride in everything his husband was.
It was a look Tristan caught on Leander's face sometimes, when Leander thought he wasn't watching. It immediately endeared him to Darren.
And Miles... he had so many feelings about Miles, all muddled up and mixed together into a fluttery, clenching wonder and longing.
Would Miles perhaps let him invite them for dinner in New York for his birthday in a few months?
Maybe they could even travel down for the holidays?
Dreams of the future mixed with all the kinky things Leander had said to him that morning.
Such as performing for each other again.
The appreciation and desire in Miles's eyes when Tristan had found him watching them making love at the party was seared into his memory.
Let alone whatever it was Darren had encouraged them to do before bed.
Tristan tried to tell himself that he shouldn't rush into this.
He shouldn't trust them so much just because of their shared past when he knew so little about them now.
But he knew enough. Miles's inherent kindness and devotion were still very much the core of his being, even now.
How dedicated he was, the gentle, protective love he gave his husband.
How he still approached Tristan with the same gentle protectiveness, like he was something immeasurably precious.
Even if he hadn't had such big feelings for Miles when he was younger, it would be very easy to fall for Miles again now.
There was enough of a breeze that afternoon that the weather wasn't stifling; they took lunch away from Faneuil, settling in the park with a couple of cheap straw mats Leander picked up to throw down on the grass.
Afterwards, Miles stretched out on his back in the shade as they chatted, one hand resting on Darren's thigh.
The other covered Tristan's hand, idly toying with his digits and lacing their fingers together.
Eventually, he tugged Tristan down with him, giving him a small smile in invitation.
Tristan let himself be drawn into the strength of his body to rest his head on his shoulder.
It was impossible to ignore the shiver of arousal that flared in his core, but in the warmth and the sunshine, it was nice to be close, listening to Leander and Darren talk with the occasional, lovely rumble of Miles's voice under his ear.
Leander rubbed his arm gently. "Tired, darling?"
Tristan shook his head. He caught hold of Leander's hand, giving it a squeeze as he smiled up at his husband. "It's alright. Just enjoying the rest."
In the sunshine, Leander's green eyes were even brighter than normal, shining as he smiled and squeezed his hand in return. Then he straightened. "Shit. I left the frozen peas in the car. I should go get them."
"Frozen peas?" Miles asked.
"Yeah. To feed the ducks." He was on his feet immediately, extending his hand to Darren. "Come for a walk? Our boys can hold down the fort so we don't have to schlep everything with us?"
"Great idea." Darren leaned down to steal a kiss from Miles, then kissed Tristan's hair before standing. "See you soon."
"That felt a bit like a setup," Tristan felt the need to point out as they left, and Miles chuckled.
"Maybe a bit. I don't mind." Miles turned his face to press a kiss to his forehead, stroking his fingers up into his hair and letting out a long breath.
"I keep thinking about... You know. The summer I went to college, and how we lost touch.
Darren thinks this is a chance to do things right, finally. "
"You didn't do anything wrong," Tristan pointed out, despite his heart twisting in his chest.
"I pulled away," Miles said softly. "You were vulnerable with me, and I... didn't appreciate that the way I should have."
"You couldn't have," Tristan said softly, closing his eyes. He wrapped an arm over Miles's chest.
"I could have been better. I should have been.
Honestly, Tristan, when you kissed me...
the way it made me feel scared the shit out of me.
I don't experience that very often. Even now.
You, Darren... my ex-wife, when we first got married.
Before... well. Things between us, um, went down a bad path.
It's a big part of why I don't drink anymore. "
"I'm sorry," Tristan said softly, but the slow caress of Miles's fingers didn't stop.
"Thank you. It's taken me a while to put myself together again.
If it wasn't for loving Darren and for everything he's done to help me, I'm not sure I could have.
But I still can't promise I'm the same now as the Miles you knew then.
I... there was a lot of shit that went down.
I want to tell you about it before you commit to... anything, really."
Tristan bit his lip to keep from immediately trying to reassure him. "I appreciate that. Will you tell me?"
Miles sighed again, silent for a long moment. Then, haltingly, he began to talk.
He'd followed his father into law enforcement and reached detective with the NYPD, until he'd made a bad judgment call in a crisis and shot and killed an undercover cop.
The guilt of it had pushed him over the edge with the alcohol he'd already been using as a crutch and the marriage that had already been turbulent.
"I didn't understand how to talk about my struggles.
I didn't even understand a lot of my feelings then.
When we got married, I thought I was doing the right thing.
Wife, kids. And I did love her, but there were things I didn't understand about myself that made it hard for me to communicate, which got even worse with stress, and...
it left her convinced I didn't care about her...
needs. In bed and otherwise. And the more she pushed, the more stressed out I was, and....
Things turned... bad between us. Really bad. Even before the incident."
As Miles continued to tell him quietly about their struggles, the lump in Tristan's stomach turning to ice.
The picture he quietly painted was familiar in an intimately terrible way.
The more he spoke, the more the memories returned.
The warning signals Tristan should have seen with his old boyfriend, before Leander.
The red flags he did see, and stupidly ignored.
The things he lied to himself about being able to handle.
"Miles..." he said gently, "You know those are abuse tactics, don't you?"
Miles's long sigh made his answer obvious. "Please don't think she's a terrible person. She's the mother of my children. I don't think she was consciously choosing to manipulate me, just... reacting in the only way she knew how."
"That doesn't excuse it."
"I know. But it wasn't like I..." Miles stopped, fingers tightening on Tristan's back.
"I hated what I became with her. I resented that it only felt as if she loved me when we were apart, and I felt so stupid for believing her every time when she promised things would change.
Because, of course, when I came back, everything was always my fault again.
I hated how small she made me feel, and so isolated.
I couldn't even talk to Ashley. I was...
stuck with her. Alone. She even made me feel like shit for wanting to separate, until...
the shooting. When I..." His arm tightened around Tristan, almost too tight, as he let out a choked exhale.
Throat aching, Tristan held him tightly. "I know. You don't have to keep going."
"No, you don't know. When I drank - " Miles's voice broke. "I never hurt her, but I'd started to lash out. It felt like the only path left. I was so frustrated and out of control. The night she kicked me out, I exploded in front of the kids. I punched a hole in the wall, I - "
"No. I do know." A sharp, helpless laugh escaped Tristan's throat.
"His name was Justin. He used to push me and push me until I lost it and screamed at him.
We fought so badly that we almost got evicted from our apartment building.
And I knew better! I knew about the cycle of abuse.
I knew when he was nice, he was just lovebombing me to reel me back in.
He made me so goddamn frustrated, I - I even threw a fucking skillet at him once.
Then he paddled me until I couldn't sit down the next day - "
"He hurt you?" Miles surged up underneath him, turning so he could meet his gaze. "Tristan - "
"He was my dom," Tristan replied helplessly. "He didn't violate my limits. I wanted - I think part of me wanted him to hurt me like that so I had an outlet for how frustrated I was, and I - "
"Of course he violated your limits," Miles growled, eyes blazing. "If he paddled you angry, he broke every rule. There's no excuse, none! I'd never - " He reached up to touch Tristan's face and stopped. His trembling fingers brushed his cheek, expression fraught. "I don't ever want to hurt you."
Tristan nodded, managing to draw breath around the lump in his throat and wiping away the tears that threatened to spill over.
"I know. I can see that, Miles. I'm so sorry that you...
I don't ever want to hurt you like that either.
And I'm so glad you have Darren. I can tell how good he is to you.
I'm sorry I got upset, I... I really thought I was over it.
Leander's so wonderful to me. I'm so happy with him, I'm so lucky to have him. I just..."
"Shh..." Miles gathered him against his chest again, pressing a trembling kiss to his hair. "I know. It's okay. I know. I'm so sorry I reminded you of it."
Tristan buried his face in Miles's chest, nuzzling the soft knit of Leander's borrowed t-shirt. The hints of his husband's scent mingled with Miles's, strange in its familiarity, but comforting. "It's alright. I'm glad I know you understand. Thank you for trusting me with all of that."
Still, as Miles held him close, he couldn't help but worry.
If this was what both their pasts held, would it be too much for Miles if Tristan asked him for what he truly needed?
When he'd been with Justin, he'd become so used to avoiding conflict, to fawning and letting Justin's needs always take priority over his own.
It had taken so much work to learn to ask for what he needed from Leander.
What if he fell back into old habits and insecurities? Could he really hope to be Miles's sub if he couldn't even be certain of that?
Miles was so worried about hurting him. But what if he was the one who ended up hurting Miles?
~~~