16 - An Invitation to Stay
Tristan Chase-Morgan
Tristan knew he was ruminating as the afternoon moved on, his mind returning again and again to his shortcomings. He knew Miles had noticed - they'd all noticed - but despite Leander's subtle attempts to reassure and cheer him up, he couldn't break out of the cycle.
It all came rushing back as he stood with Miles in the kitchen, trying his hardest to focus on his old friend's heartfelt entreaty to be truthful with him. No, not an entreaty... an order. He needed to obey.
I can't ask for what I really yearn for. I won't be able to be up front with him, or if I do, I'll turn him off, and he won't want to be with us anyway, and I'll have ruined things for Leander too, and -
"Please," Miles said softly. "I know it's scary, sweetheart. But I want to understand you. And Leander's here, and Darren's here. Things will be alright. I promise."
Tristan blew out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. I know, I... I have a hard time... advocating for myself. Because of... the guy I mentioned."
Miles's brows knit in concern. "I never want to hurt you." After a half-beat, he offered a small smile, as if realizing what he'd said. "Not in ways you don't want me to, anyway."
Tristan managed a soft, huffed laugh. "I know. I do trust you, it's myself that I... Leander and I have worked on it for so long, and I thought I was better, I just... I can't get out of my head right now."
"...would it help if I... offered to spank it out of you?" Miles offered, the worried line between his eyebrows growing deeper.
Would it? Possibly, but Tristan was sure neither he nor Miles was ready for that level of intensity. He ached for a very different kind of intensity, wishing Miles would kiss him until he didn't have to think anymore. But the void between them - asking for what he wanted - seemed too wide to cross.
Even knowing that it was the same struggle which had almost ended things for him and Leander before they could start.
Because it wasn't only about asking for Miles. Everything he'd imagined - what he'd wanted Miles to do to him back then - what if it pushed Miles away? Or what if it did the opposite, and that proved too much for Leander or Darren?
He drew a shaky breath, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about everything."
Miles looked more worried. "If you need more time, I won't be offended. It's been so nice being here, but I don't want to overstay our welcome."
"I don't think that's what Tristan's worried about.
" Darren joined them, resting a hand on Tristan's shoulder, warm and gentle.
"Listen. A lot has happened already this weekend.
Don't feel as if you have to articulate some big, kinky roadmap right now.
We can take things one step at a time. We have plenty of time to figure out all the ways we might enjoy playing together, alright?
Just think about what you'd like to happen tonight and enjoy what you're feeling. "
Tristan glanced down. His huffed laugh caught in a maelstrom of anxiety and indecision over his emotions and desires. "I'm not sure I should be. Not all the things I'm feeling."
Then Darren leaned closer, rubbing the nape of his neck. Darren, Miles's husband. His dom. "Don't think about should. Think instead... how would your Master want you to feel? If you're nervous, do it for him, little bunny. You can be a good boy for Leander's sake, can't you?"
Staring at Darren, Tristan's mouth went dry. Perhaps... perhaps he had been asking the wrong question all along.
It could have been intrusive or inappropriate to hear such a question from someone other than Leander. But from Darren, somehow it was only a gentle encouragement. When Tristan looked up into kind blue eyes, it was to an overwhelming sense of being somehow completely understood by this man.
Tristan knew exactly what Leander would want him to do, how he'd want him to feel. He'd already been given permission - no, encouraged - to feel this way.
And Tristan did want to feel this way. Darren was right.
Taking a slow breath, Tristan closed his eyes, resting his hands on Miles's chest. Leaning into his old friend, he dropped his forehead to press to Miles's shoulder. He let the warmth of Miles's gentle embrace finally sink into his body, focusing on the strength of his arms around him.
He was doing this for Leander. He could let go.
Leander would always catch him and support him, and tonight Miles would do the same, so his husband could let go.
In time, he could learn to open up to their friends as he had with Leander.
Maybe that would change things. But Leander would help him.
And Darren would help him do right by Miles, no matter what.
It was enough.
Nuzzling his temple, Miles stroked up Tristan's spine, pushing his fingers up into his hair. "You okay?" he asked softly.
The tenderness of his caress pushed more of the tension from his shoulders. "Yeah," Tristan murmured softly, turning his face to give Darren a grateful smile.
Finally, he raised his head, cuddling more into Miles's embrace as he met his gaze. "Forgive me. I'd very much like you to stay tonight, Sir. I'd like all of us to play, if it pleases you."
"I'd really like that," Miles replied with a warm smile. "Thank you for asking, sweetheart."
Miles's gentle thanks soothed more of Tristan's prickly anxiousness. "Well, then... would you care to see the dungeon, Sir?"
"We'd be terrible hosts if we didn't give you the full tour," Leander added quickly, his encouragement even more reassuring.
Miles glanced down with a soft hum, but he was smiling. He lifted a hand to brush the backs of his fingers along Tristan's jaw. "Is that all you mean to show us, Tristan?"
Even the brush of his fingers left Tristan dizzy.
He closed his eyes, though it didn't make it any better.
Why should he be so nervous when he'd negotiated casual sex with dozens of lovers in the past?
But Miles mattered in a way that none of them did, which was why his looming fantasies gave rise to so much anxiety.
He focused on Darren's words. He was doing this for Leander, and that meant it was good and right.
"I'll show you anything you want me to."
Miles smiled and gathered him closer, nuzzling his hair. "I'd really like to stay tonight, little one. If that's something you're sure you still want after all this time."
Little one. Hardly different from the 'little bunny' they'd been calling him since Leander had introduced them at the party, and yet so very different.
It would have been unbearably compelling on anyone's lips, but from Miles - adoring, protective, and warm with the weight of their past - it went straight to Tristan's core.
The urge to do as Leander had done earlier, to call him Master, was heavy on Tristan's lips, but he held it in.
They had plenty of time to do that properly.
Instead, Tristan forced himself to find his voice.
"I would still like that. I'd really like that, Miles. "
Miles's arms tightened around him. "Can't promise I'll be able to deliver on everything you might have imagined me to be...."
But you already have, Tristan wanted to say, pushing his dirty fantasies firmly away. "It's alright. I'm sure we've both changed. But I'd still really like to get to know you again. Miles. I... I really want to be with you."
The admission slipped out before he could stop it, but the arousal it awoke in Miles's gaze made the embers of desire inside him flare hot and bright.
Miles claimed his mouth with a low groan, pulling Tristan helplessly into the firm, well-muscled bulk of his body.
His fingers raked down Tristan's back as he licked into his mouth eagerly.
"I really want that," Miles growled against his lips.
He gripped his ass, nearly pulling Tristan up onto his tiptoes.
His strength and forcefulness made Tristan melt into him, left him trembling, wanting to beg Miles to do whatever he desired to him.
When Miles pushed him back against the kitchen island, he whimpered, wrapping one thigh over his hip instinctively to arch closer as he had so long ago, aching for more.
"God, Tristan..." Miles nipped at his bottom lip, rolling his hips against him.
The hard ridge of his erection was unmistakable even through his jeans, leaving Tristan with no question of his desire.
He couldn't help but whine, pleading and needy, ready to beg for Miles to rip his clothes off, pick him up, and claim all of him right there.
"Not in the kitchen," Darren murmured, soft but stern. "Come on, pet."
Miles released him, stepping back with a dazed nod. "Yes, Sir."
Tristan failed to hold in his sob, suddenly unmoored.
Instantly, Leander was at his side with an arm around him, nuzzling his ear, his presence grounding.
His husband smiled, eyes dark with the kind of hunger that made Tristan even harder.
"Let's show them downstairs, alright, my love?
I want to put some of the things we talked about this morning into play.
Darren and I can take the lead for a bit. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course, Sir." Accepting his master's request was a relief, and Tristan kissed him gratefully. Then he stepped away, returning to the grounding role of host, inclining his head to their guests. "This way, please."
The door to the basement had a simple code lock on it; some guests were better off not stumbling in on it. Not that there was anything immediately and overtly sexual about the setup. Their play was more about indulgence and hedonism and role-play than any kind of complicated furniture.