Michael

by Marilize Roos

  ~*~

  Damn, but I’m tired. Sitting up with Tristan for most of the night, when he’d come out to her, had been cathartic, but catharsis didn’t make up for sleep lost. But she felt so honoured that he trusted her enough to bare his deepest, and to his mind most shameful, secret. Bared his vulnerable underbelly, so to speak.

  The desk phone startled her from her contemplation of the illegible handwritten copy she was typing from. The caller-ID identified the caller as Anderson, and she sighed inwardly as she picked up the handset.

  “Judith, I need you in my office.”

  “On my way, sir,” she said, hitting ‘save’ and pushing her wheeled chair away from the desk. She walked on leaden feet. What could he want now?

  She’d been avoiding him at work, but disobeying a direct instruction wouldn’t be wise, and she’d run out of excuses. Unfortunately, she needed more than ‘he makes my skin crawl’ to take to HR, and she still had to work with the man.

  She entered Anderson’s office and saw him behind his desk. His laptop was open on top of a pristine desk, all of his papers squared into a neat stack; there’d be dust settling on the pile of documents if new documents weren’t being intermittently added to the stack. This was not the desk of someone who was hard at work. “You wanted to see me sir?”

  “Judith,” he gave her his best shark-smile and stood from behind his desk. He pointed at his chair. “I need your help with something on my laptop.”

  “Shall I phone IT, sir,” she asked.

  “No need,” he said. “It’s something in Word; I need you to move some things around for me.”

  “You could mail it to me,” she tried, but he just shook his head.

  “It’ll be faster if you just do it on my laptop,” he countered.

  It would be faster, she thought. Not to mention, more private, with more opportunities for groping.

  Hesitantly, she edged around him and sat in his chair. She studied the screen, activated the ‘show formatting’ button, and started cleaning up the document. He stood behind her chair and leaned uncomfortably close, pointing out things on the screen, and never retreating properly.

  After the fifth time he pointed out something on the screen, he settled behind her with his hands on her shoulders and started kneading the muscles there. “So tense,” he murmured as he squeezed the muscles almost painfully. “If you take off your jacket, I can really get to those knots.”

  Judith wanted to stand, but he was crowding her against the desk. “Thank you, but I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll ask my husband to massage it tonight when I go home.”

  “But that’s hours away,” Anderson protested. “Come now, just let me –”

  “Mr Anderson, I need that –” Judith looked up to see Ariel frozen in the doorway, her glasses perched on her nose and a set of documents in her hand. Ariel’s one eyebrow rose and she looked pointedly at Anderson’s hands. “Judith, I think Collins in IT was looking for you; he needs you to input your password in your machine, and then keep your hands to yourself.”

  Ariel’s last words were obviously aimed at Anderson, and Judith gratefully fled.

  ~*~

  TRISTAN: Michael – I was wondering if you had some time this afternoon. If you’re not busy, I’ll buy you a beer at the pub in the Village.

  10:16√√

  ME: Sure, what’s up?

  13:02 √√

  TRISTAN: << Ø You deleted this message. >>

  13:11√√

  TRISTAN: Can we talk then? I don’t want to do this over text.

  14:09√√

  ME: Sure, whatever you need. What time?

  14:11√√

  TRISTAN: I finish work at 15:00 this afternoon. Any time after 15:30? When would suit you?

  14:13√√

  ME: Sure – see you 15:30. Will Judith be joining us?

  14:14√√

  TRISTAN: Not this afternoon – it’s just us.

  14:15√√

  ME: OK. See you then.

  14:17√√

  ~*~

  Michael hated the unknown. He hated uncertainty. And he hated that he didn’t know what Tristan wanted to talk about.

  His mind conjured up various scenarios, each more distressing than the last.

  Tristan doesn’t want to share his wife anymore.

  Tristan wants to end this relationship.

  Michael found his favourite wedge of parking space down the road, and slipping his keys into the pocket of his leather jacket, he trudged to the pub. The waitress saw him, and with a nod, she waved him on to the upstairs seating.

  Tristan was waiting for him at the table in the far corner of the upstairs deck, overlooking the racecourse. A few racehorses were loping around the track, their jockeys’ stirrups longer than for a proper race. The stands of the racecourse were empty.

  The wind ruffled Tristan’s brown hair, and his eyes were inscrutable behind his aviators. A beer was shedding drops of condensation on the coaster before him, and a cider was open and waiting for Michael.

  Tristan looked up at his approach. A nervous half-smile flickered around his lips, and Michael’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch.

  “Hi,” Tristan said. “I ordered you a drink.”

  “Thanks,” Michael lifted the glass bottle to his lips and tipped it back, taking a healthy swallow in an attempt to settle his nerves. “So, what’s up?”

  Tristan took a sip of his beer, and Michael noted a slight tremor in his hand. “Um, I have something to tell you, and I’m a little nervous.”

  “Go on,” Michael said. Just tell me, already!

  “I – I don’t think I’m as straight as I thought I was.” The words left him in a rush, in one breath, and he tensed as he watched Michael for a reaction.

  Michael’s drink paused half-way to his mouth. “You’re what?”

  “I think I may be… curious.”

  “Have you told Judith?” Michael asked.

  Tristan fell abruptly quiet when the waitress arrived. He gave her a charming smile and ordered the fish and chips again; Michael ordered a basket of ribs. “Last night,” Tristan admitted once she’d left. “She said I should tell you, but thought it would be less awkward for me if she weren’t with us.”

  “Fuck,” Michael breathed. “Are you sure?”

  Tristan looked down. “I don’t know anything anymore,” he said. “If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have argued that I’m straight as an arrow. But about a week ago… I might have hesitated.”

  Michael closed his eyes to process this new development. Tristan coming out to him hadn’t even featured in the scenarios he’d conjured up. On the surface, it was his dream come true; having both Tristan and Judith, his both as submissives and as lovers… but if this went wrong…

  “Michael, you’re scaring me,” Tristan said quietly. “Say something.”

  “You know this can go catastrophically wrong,” Michael whispered. “If this fails, I might lose you both.”

  “I thought you wanted this.”

  “You have no idea how much I want this,” Michael said. “But…”

  “You’re scared. Believe me – I’m scared too. But… could we just…” Tristan removed his aviators to capture Michael’s gaze. “I trust you. I know my hard-limits are safe with you.”

  Michael’s heart stuttered at the expression of trust, and he felt the calm of a Dominant facing his sub settle over him. “How do you want to do this?” Michael asked. “Do you want the three of us together? Or just the two of us?”

  “I thought you’d just tell me what to do,” Tristan muttered, a flush rising in his cheeks.

  “No, I’m taking this slow. I want enough time to slam on the brakes before I do any irreparable damage to our relationship.” Or get my heart broken.

  “Then… this weekend, perhaps, but just the two of us.”

  The waitress arrived with their food, and Michael blinked out of their connection. He thanked the waitress, then reached for the salt to
season his chips. “Then it’s a date.”

  ~*~

  “Edie! I need a word with you.”

  The last reverberations of the school bell had barely died down, and students were stuffing textbooks and pencil cases into their bags, some of them rushing out of the classroom without even bothering to do that much, eager to get to their lockers before congestion made it difficult to flee for the weekend.

  Edie paused, the strap of her bag already over her shoulder. She eyed him warily, but lowered her book bag to the floor again and sat in her seat. Tristan took a seat on the edge of his desk and waited silently for the other students to leave, leaving him and Edie alone.

  “Yes, Mr B?” Edie asked, her eyes lowered to her desk. Tristan couldn’t figure her out. Her attitude had changed in the last few weeks; he’d been relieved that she’d stopped her flirtatious behaviour, but she’d gone completely the other way, going quiet and sulky, and a few times, Tristan had felt creeped out by her stare.

  “Edie, I have to say I’m concerned. Is everything okay at home?”

  “Of course – why would you say that?” Edie snapped.

  “You’ve gone quiet. You’ve missed two assignments, and I know I don’t check homework – I prefer to treat you like adults – but should I start checking yours?”

  “Of course not, sir,” she bit out, colour flushing her cheeks.

  “Because if this behaviour continues, I’ll have to call your parents,” Tristan said quietly. “I don’t want to, but at this point…”

  “Why are you being such an asshole!” Edie screamed. She jumped up from her desk, making the chair screech across the floor. She grabbed her bag and charged for the door, colliding with Joanne, the science teacher from the classroom next door. Edie’s phone slipped from her pocket and skittered under one of the desks; she ducked and snatched it up, then shoved past Joanne.

  Tristan stared after her.

  “What was that about?” Joanne asked. She was perhaps five years from retirement, and doubled as the school ‘mother’. She was fiercely protective of her charges, and had been known to dispense both condoms and tissues in her classroom.

  “I have no idea,” Tristan said. “It was a private intervention about her grades and attendance; she’s been a good student, and I didn’t want to embarrass her, or have to involve her parents if a quiet word would do the trick.”

  “That’s why we have these interventions in Hennessey’s office,” she chided him.

  “I know – I just didn’t want to make her think we’re ganging up on her.”

  “Next time, do it by the book,” she smiled. “It’s harder to barge out of Hennessey’s office.” She sobered. “These little kindnesses have a way of biting you in the ass.”

  Hearing the mild profanity from the dignified educator made him snort with amusement. “Joanne! You kiss your husband with that mouth?”

  “Bet your ass, I do,” she grinned.

  ~*~

  “Stop it!” Judith smacked the back of Michael’s hand and gathered empty plates to carry to the kitchen. “You cooked, the least I can do is stack these in the dishwasher.”

  Tristan had gone back up to the study after dinner, citing his workload of report comments to write, leaving Judith and Michael alone.

  “If I help you, it’ll go quicker,” Michael insisted, but Judith took the plate out of his hands.

  “If you really want to help, go start the coffee,” she said.

  “I spank impertinent subbies, you know,” Michael groused.

  “Promises, promises,” Judith grinned.

  Michael followed her into the kitchen. “Someone’s feeling cheeky tonight.”

  “Or maybe I’m just in a good mood.” Judith scraped the plates clean into the bin. “Tristan told me he met you for a beer on Thursday.”

  “Yeah, we did,” Michael said. He flicked the switch on the coffee maker and listened to it gurgle to life. “You know what about?”

  “Yeah, he told me about it on Thursday.”

  “And how do you feel about it?” Michael asked.

  “I’m fine with it. Excited, really.” Judith said.

  “Are you sure?” Michael asked. “Last week he was convinced he was straight. This week he’s admitting he just may be bi. What if he says next week he’s completely gay?”

  “Seriously?” Judith asked. “You’re going to let fear get in the way?”

  “What if this blows up in our faces?” Michael opened the cabinet above the coffee maker to get mugs.

  “And what if we’re happy?”

  Michael paused.

  “I love Tristan. All of him. Straight, bi, gay… I’d still love him. And I know he loves me. We’ll figure it out. But I’m not going to let fear stop us from being happy.”

  She closed the door of the dishwasher and stepped up to Michael. She put a hand to his cheek and turned him to face her. “I love him, and I love you. I love every little difference between you, and it would make me happy if you’d love each other too.”

  Michael put his arms around her, and she melted into his embrace. “We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.

  ~*~

  Chapter 19

  Michael sprawled in a lawn chair, watching athletes line up for the hundred-metre hurdles. From his vantage point, he could see Tristan, wearing school track pants, running shoes, and a golf shirt with the school badge over his heart, giving his three students last-minute pointers before the race. A stop-watch hung on a cord around his neck.

  Michael and Judith had set up their chairs on the edge of the area where Tristan’s school athletes were congregating. Close enough to belong, but far enough away not to get in the way.

  When Tristan glanced in his direction, Michael gave him a small wave, just a lift of his index and middle fingers, really, and Tristan’s face first registered surprize, and then delight, before turning his attention back to his students.

  He’d heard the intercom chime when Tristan left at six that morning, and an hour later, when he’d gone down to make breakfast and found a lonely Judith already frying bacon and eggs, he’d impulsively suggested they turn their breakfast into bacon and egg sandwiches and go support Tristan at the athletics event.

  Judith lowered herself carefully into the lawn chair beside his while holding two polystyrene cups of coffee in one hand, and two boerewors rolls in the other. She handed Michael one of each, then put her cup of coffee in the cup-holder of her lawn chair.

  “So what events does Tristan coach?” Michael asked. “Looks like he’s involved with hurdles.”

  “Mostly sprints,” Judith bit into her roll. She chewed and swallowed, “and discus.”

  For a moment, Michael imagined Tristan holding a discus in ancient Greek fashion – naked. Sleek muscles balanced with graceful speed. He adjusted his sunglasses under the wide brim of his cricket hat, then took a bite out of his boerewors roll topped with onions and chutney.

  At the prompting of the starter, the athletes sank down into the starting blocks, then rose into a crouch. The starter pistol cracked and the athletes exploded into action, barrelling down the track and popping over the first line of hurdles seconds later. Tristan stood with his stopwatch in hand, cheering from the side-line.

  Tristan’s students crossed the finish line in second, third and fifth place, but Tristan congratulated them each equally. After a pat on the back to each of the students, he headed over to where Michael and Judith were sitting.

  “Hey, what are you guys going here?” He asked with a happy grin. He leaned down to kiss Judith and grabbed Michael’s hand in a hearty handshake. “I thought you’d be at home.”

  “We thought to come support you,” Judith said. “It was Michael’s idea.”

  “Really?” Tristan smiled, and for the second time that day, Michael felt like a king. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like me to get you something to eat?” Judith asked, holding up her half-eaten boerewors roll.

  “No, thanks,” Tristan sa
id. “The school will send over my lunch ration a little later.”

  “How have your students done,” Michael asked. “We’ve only seen the last three races.”

  “I’m proud of them all,” Tristan said. He plopped down on the grass between Judith’s knees and leaned back against her legs. “We’ve gotten a few golds and silvers, but they’ve all performed well, even if they didn’t place well. And it looks like Mitchie got a personal best, even if he only placed fifth in the hurdles; this after he’d been laid up with a broken collar bone until a month ago.”

  “Sounds like they have a good coach,” Michael commented.

  “Thanks,” Tristan said modestly. He rolled to his feet in one smooth motion, then leaned down to give Judith another kiss, his hands braced on her armrests. “See you later - I’ve got students in the 400m.”

  “See you later,” Judith said as Tristan jogged away.

  “I’m disappointed,” Michael said dryly. “I was hoping for a kiss of my own.”

  Judith turned a wary glance towards him, then saw the humour in his eyes and grinned in response. “I’m sure he’ll make it up to you later, sir,” she murmured, and his cock stirred in response.

  “Oh, you both will,” Michael murmured, taking a sip of his coffee, and Judith’s answering blush promised good things to come.

  ~*~

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” Tristan asked Judith.

  “Of course I am,” Judith laughed. Her eyes softened. “I have my book to read. Maybe I’ll get a nap. But you and Michael have things to discuss, and I think maybe you’ll feel better if I’m not in the middle.”