Page 15 of Expanding Command

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.

~~~

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.