"Jack" Series, Part 2: Jack Adjusts

4. A Fight, in Three Movements

I.

Tiran had been angry for a while, though Rocky couldn’t quite put his finger on when it had started. It wasn’t Tiran’s usual explosive fury, the kind that burst out in a heartbeat and then burnt itself out moments later. This time it seemed to build up steam gradually, from a kind of low-grade annoyance to a simmering wrath about to boil over, and it was making them all uneasy.

Rocky watched from the sidelines, debating how to respond. For Tiran to hold back on his feelings was unusual, so Rocky wondered whether they might have something to do with Jack Obernikoch. He knew he didn’t want to be in the middle of anything between the men so he decided to keep his counsel and stay out.

To make that easier, Rocky was careful not to be alone with Tiran. He didn’t want to hear Tiran’s side, or anything that would feel disrespectful toward Jack. After a few days of awkwardness, Rocky decided to go back home – or to Celeste’s place, as he found himself thinking of it now – and try to avoid the estate until the air cleared.

But by the third day Tiran was calling him, distinctly irritated, demanding to know when he was coming back. Rocky knew that, in these situations, the distance from asking to ordering was short, so he cut his losses and headed back to the estate, hoping at least to avoid making things worse.

The morning after he got back, Rocky joined the breakfast table early. It was out on one of the side decks today, overlooking the water. One or two of the others were there, and Jack arrived soon afterwards. Rocky greeted him politely and was, as usual, ignored. That didn’t surprise him, but when Tiran came out and the same thing happened, he was more concerned. He went on with his breakfast, listening to the usual morning chatter. There was certainly less of it than usual, and it didn’t last as long – people headed off quickly after eating, even Gabe. Soon enough, Rocky was alone with Tiran and Jack.

Rocky finished eating and sat quietly with his coffee, contemplating. He did not fail to notice that Tiran still had not spoken to him. Whatever the original target of Tiran’s wrath might have been, it seemed clear that Rocky was included in it now.

As usual when Tiran was angry with him, Rocky found it difficult to concentrate on anything else. He quickly resolved to get Tiran alone at the first opportunity, make his apologies for whatever he’d done – hopefully he’d get a hint – and see where that led him.

But for now they were sitting out in the sun, in comfortable oversized chairs, and the men didn’t look like they planned to move anytime soon. Rocky considered giving Tiran and Jack their space, but he knew from experience that walking away would appear to Tiran as defiance. That wouldn’t help matters.

On the other hand, a gesture of submission might. When Tiran pushed his plate away and leaned back, Rocky lit a cigarette and handed it over to him. He put an ashtray beside Tiran, poured coffee for both men and added their cream and sugar before sliding down to sit on the floor beside Tiran. Then, having raised the white flag, he leaned against the wall of the house and waited.

The men talked and drank, and Rocky half-listened, watching the glistening blue crystal of the sea and keeping an eye on the coffee cups in case they needed refilling. Finally, during a lull in the conversation, Rocky took the plunge.

"Thanks for calling me back, Tiry," he said quietly, smiling up at Tiran. "It's great to be here on a day like today."

Tiran glanced down as though he’d just noticed Rocky. "When did you get in?"

"Oh, not late last night."

Tiran frowned slightly. "I left a message where we were gonna be. Did you not get it?"

"Yeah," Rocky said sheepishly. "I was a little tired … just went over for a drink with Pat and Adele."

Tiran looked ahead, flicking his cigarette cynically. "Yeah. A little tired, that’s it."

Rocky’s brow furrowed. "What? Tiry, I -- "

Tiran looked back at him evenly. "So tell me. What time did you leave their place?"

"Um -- " Rocky dropped his eyes, mind racing. "Maybe … around one," he added hesitantly.

Tiran rolled his eyes, glancing at Jack. "Funny. That’s just about the time we left Avignon."

"No, but …" Rocky laughed a little, nervously. "You guys went on from there, right? To Stevenson’s … "

"Not the point." Tiran stubbed out his cigarette and turned to face Rocky squarely. "Point is, you could have just as easily come out with us. With me. But you picked anyone else instead."

Rocky tried to shrug. "It’s a long way to -- I didn’t want – what’s the big deal, Tiry?" He was still trying to think this through. "What does it matter if I don’t … it’s just one night."

Tiran smiled wryly. "Just one night? When’s the last time you went out with me, Van?"

From the corner of his eye, Rocky saw Jack watching them intently; he filed that away with the rest of the information he was anxiously trying to process. "The last time? Jeeze, just the night before I left, I was with you guys at Denny’s houseparty …"

Tiran gave a mocking nod, looking down at the table. "You met us there, Van. You didn’t go with us."

Rocky closed his mouth abruptly. Stalling, he sat up on his knees and reached nervously for Tiran’s cigarettes. He saw Tiran watching him knowingly. Lighting the cigarette gave him just enough time to draw a few rapid-fire conclusions: He was in more trouble than he thought. Perhaps Tiran’s anger at him wasn’t the stray bullet he thought it was; maybe he was the main target. He needed to understand – no, he needed to explain to Tiran – but Mr. Obernikoch was there, how would he take it …?

Tiran took the cigarette from Rocky’s fingers. "So? I asked you." Now his voice was smooth and ominous. "When’s the last time you actually went out with me, Rocky?"

Rocky recognized the tone, and it wasn’t good. He had to concentrate on the question. That didn’t work out too well either. He looked down and answered in a low voice. "I don’t remember, Tiry."

Tiran waited a couple of beats, then said, "You want to tell me what’s going on?"

"Yes." Rocky flashed a glance at Tiran. "But please. Can we talk later?"

A pause; Rocky dared another look and saw that the last piece of reserved sympathy had disappeared from Tiran’s eyes.

"We’re talking right now."

Rocky licked his dry lips. "Please, Tiry. Mr. Obernikoch isn’t interested in listening to me. I’ll come and see you later, I promise."

Another bad approach. Rocky could feel the tension grow and the temperature drop. He’d known it was a gamble, but as far as he could figure, in the time he’d had to work it out, the alternative would be worse.

Tiran was losing patience. "Fuck you, Van. I’ve waited long enough for you to come and see me. We’re having it out now."

Rocky was miserable. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this coming. And he needed to get the conversation away from Mr. Obernikoch before more damage was done. "Okay, Tiran," he agreed quickly, hoping for appeasement. "We – we will. We are. I’m sorry, I should have spoken to you earlier."

"Yeah, you should have. Now quit stalling."

"Tiran … please. I – I admit, I’ve been avoiding you recently …"

Tiran banged his coffee cup down on the table and glowered. "Don’t you play cute with me, Rocky. I know you’ve been – this has been going on a lot longer than that."

Rocky shut his eyes for a second and took a breath. He needed to know how much Tiran knew, exactly. "I – What do you mean?"

"Jack -- " Tiran said abruptly, looking across the table. "I hope you’re going to beat his ass raw for this."

"Looking forward to it, Ti," Jack drawled. His voice was bored and confident, but there was something else in it that Rocky couldn’t quite place right away; a kind of reserve.

Rocky wanted to agree with both of them, to cave, to surrender completely. But he needed to keep his wits about him. He nodded to Jack and whispered, "Yes, sir."

Tiran was focused on Rocky again, his voice clear and cold. "Yeah, things have been tense around here lately, so you cut and ran back to Celeste. I get it. But that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. This has been going on much longer than that. So stop being stupid and get to the point. I’m pissed enough at you already. I told you to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me."

Rocky took a breath. "Tiran, I haven’t been avoiding you. Other than recently, I mean." He flinched suddenly, expecting one of the men to backhand him when he realized how defiant that sounded. But neither moved; Tiran was still watching him coldly, and Mr. Obernikoch seemed to be bracing himself with a kind of wary stillness.

"But I – I know what you mean, and I can explain, Tiran. I’m only asking to do it in private. Please."

Tiran’s expression grew blacker. "What’s your problem, Van? What are you so worried about Jack for?"

"I’m not – I just – I just don’t want to bore him. It’s between you and me, boss."

"Is it?" Tiran looked hard at Rocky, a new anger growing in his eyes. "You’re saying this has nothing to do with Jack?"

Rocky dropped his eyes helplessly. "Tiry, I’m asking you – please let me talk to you alone. Please."

"Look at me, Van," Tiran ordered. "Look me in the face and tell me this has nothing to do with Jack."

Rocky held Tiran’s gaze, willing him to understand. "Please, Tiran. Please …"

There was a sudden hiss of breath, and they both turned to Jack in surprise. Too late Rocky realized what was happening; too late his mind raced down the path he had taken and saw the consequences.

Jack was already on his feet, with a derisive snort. "I know where this is going," he growled. "I’m not sitting here listening to it. Fuck you, Van Valkenburg. Fuck you both." And then he was gone, inside the house, the door slamming behind him.

Rocky stared after him in horror. "No! Ti - !" He turned back to Tiran, his eyes wide with alarm.

But Tiran was unfazed. He flicked his cigarette impatiently. "Don’t worry about that, Van, I’ll deal with it later. Or you can, since you started it. I want -- "

"No, Tiran, no …" Rocky whispered anxiously, his mind still reeling, still trying to sort through what had just happened.

"Enough, Rocky! Enough stalling. You wanted to talk to me alone, now we’re alone. So -- "

"No, Tiry, there’s no time -- You need to go after him, now," Rocky said, reaching up urgently to grab Tiran’s arm.

Tiran glared down at him. "Are you crazy, Van? You should be worrying about you, not him. Do you have any fucking idea …"

"Tiran, please." Rocky took a quick breath, trying to stay calm. "Please. He’s going to leave. You have to go stop him, now, right away!"

"What are you talking about? Why would he leave? He’s just pissed at the way you spoke about him and I don’t blame him, but he’s got plenty of opportunity to make you pay for that … "

"No, he’s not just … he – he thinks I’m trying to get you to send him away, don’t you see?" Rocky was on his feet, pacing in front of Tiran, fighting down a rising panic. "He thinks this is my strategy to turn you against him."

Tiran laughed. "Why would you do that? You’re the one who begged me to bring him here."

Rocky’s panic swelled. "Tiran, you have to go now!" he said frantically. "Now, or it’s going to be too late! He’s packing now – I’m sure of it – if he gets any farther you won’t be able to turn him around, he’ll be set on leaving … "

But Tiran was still perversely unperturbed. He got up and leaned against the deck railing, looking down at Rocky. "Stop trying to change the subject. I want an answer to my question."

Rocky felt like screaming at him. "Jesus Christ, Tiran! I’ll answer your question whenever you want but you’ve got to go and talk to Mr. Obernikoch now – now!"

"It is because of him, isn’t it? That’s why you haven’t been going out with me?"

"Yes, but -- "

"Is it because of how he treats you in public? I don’t believe that, it started before then -- "

"Tiran!" Rocky shouted, almost crying in frustration. "I fucked up, okay! I’m sorry, I screwed up, I shouldn’t have -- what do you want from me?"1

"I want to know why you don’t like going out with me anymore." Tiran sounded like a child, sulking and defiant.

Rocky groaned; already he feared it was too late. "Go!" he urged desperately. "Go and talk to Mr. Obernikoch and then you can – you can do whatever want to me. I’m begging you, Tiran, " -- and with a sudden thud he dropped to his knees at Tiran’s feet -- "I’ll tell you anything, I’ll do whatever you want! You can punish me, you can do anything – only please, please, please, don’t let him go." He looked up at Tiran, still standing against the railing, and wanted to shake him, to hit him. Rocky couldn’t remember ever being so angry with Tiran. "What more do you need, Tiran? I’m on my knees, I’m begging you … do you want me to crawl? Do you want me to kiss your feet? What do I have to do?"

Tiran’s expression wavered slightly. "Why me? If it’s so important to you …"

"Tiran …" Rocky was despairing. "He’s not going to listen to me … please, it has to be you … I’ll talk to him later, I’ll crawl, but you have to stop him now -- "

Tiran hesitated again. "This is not over, Van. You’re not off the hook."

Rocky shut his eyes, holding himself taut. "I know I’m not, Tiran. Master. I’m – I’ll be waiting for you. Go talk to him and I’ll be – I’ll be in your room, okay, waiting for you. You can come back and do whatever the hell you want to me. I’ll tell you anything. Okay? Please? I’m going now, okay? I’ll be in your room. Will you go see him now? Please?"

Finally – finally – with a sigh, Tiran pushed himself off the railing, his expression black and threatening. "Fine. I’m going. But you’d better be fucking ready for me when I get back."

Rocky followed Tiran into the house, his heart still racing, babbling feverishly. "Yes, boss, I am, I will be, anything!" He paused anxiously, watching Tiran go towards the side door, the one nearest the chalet, then took a deep breath and headed up the stairs.


**********

II

Rocky didn’t know how long he waited upstairs in Tiran’s bedroom. It couldn’t have been as long as it felt; surely less than an hour. Much of the time, while he waited, he despaired: Tiran must have been too late, Mr. Obernikoch intractable, Tiran watching him now while he drove away. Other times Rocky thought all must be well: the men were probably out having a drink and a laugh together, forgetting all about him.

But all of the time, he remembered that he was in trouble. He had fucked up, and Tiran was not happy; his last words had been a threat. Rocky knew he should be getting ready to humble himself when Tiran returned. But he could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins and taste the remnants of his own rage and frustration. The uncertainty over Jack was keeping him on edge; he couldn’t shake the feeling that if Tiran had just let him explain – had just agreed to his perfectly reasonable request to discuss private things in private – none of this would be happening. Rather than looking forward to a chance to beg forgiveness, as he knew he should be, Rocky found he was gearing himself up for the ordeal to continue.

The chalet was visible from one of the windows in Tiran’s room, but Rocky had been too nervous to look out when he first got upstairs – he didn’t want Tiran to see him watching. When, finally, he couldn’t stop himself from looking, there was nothing to discern, no sign of movement. The car was what he really wanted to see but Jack’s car, like all the others, was stored in the large garage on the other side of the house. At least there was no sign of activity, of belongings being carted away – though he knew that was meaningless; Jack would walk out now with the barest of essentials and, if anything, have the rest sent later.

Rocky tried again to still his tumultuous emotions. He reminded himself that the original mistake was his – he should have spoken to Tiran a long time ago – and he remembered his frantic promises to do anything, say anything, if Tiran only went to Jack first. Tiran had every right to demand answers, and anything else he wanted, under the circumstances.

Walking away from the window, Rocky drew a breath, resolving to keep his promises, whatever the result of Tiran’s discussion with Jack. Abruptly, he was transported back to that other time – years ago now, was it decades even? – when his future lay in Tiran’s power. Surely, if he had been spared then, he could repay Tiran now?

Rocky was still struggling when he heard quick footsteps on the stairs. He didn’t have time to decide what position he should assume when Tiran came in, so he just turned toward the doorway and braced himself.

When the door opened, Rocky could see instantly that Tiran’s mission had been successful. His eyes shut in relief. "Thank god," he breathed.

"No, thank me," Tiran snapped.

Rocky saw Tiran’s angry, disdainful look and took an unconscious step backwards. "Did …"

"That wasn’t fun, Rocky. What a fucking mess."

Rocky stood beside the fireplace, helplessly trying to contain his emotions. He was grateful to Tiran, but the suggestion that somehow he was at fault for the mess with Jack kindled his lingering resentment.

He struggled to speak, remembering his promises. "Thank you, Tiran, I – appreciate it. I’m … I’m at your mercy."

Tiran dropped into the armchair across from the fire with a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Sure you do, Rocky. Look at you. A minute ago you were on your hands and knees begging me to talk to Jack, and now that I have … you can’t even thank me with any sincerity. You think this is all my fault, don’t you?"

Rocky took a ragged breath. "It doesn’t matter, Ti. You wanted – I’m ready to do whatever you want."

Tiran shook his head, watching him closely. "Say it like you mean it, Van. Or don’t say it at all."

For a moment they stared at each other in silence; Rocky couldn’t swallow, let alone speak. Finally, Tiran looked away contemptuously. "Go get me a drink."

Rocky went over to the bar, relieved to have an order he could follow. When he had poured the drink he found that Tiran had moved out to the balcony so he followed.

Tiran took the glass from him. "Get down on your knees."

Rocky’s face reddened as he obeyed. Of course they were outside now, where anyone could see them. Had Tiran done that on purpose? Was he taking a cue from Mr. Obernikoch? Rocky usually had no problem kneeling to Tiran – he often did it voluntarily to show his deference or to appease one of Tiran’s fleeting needs for power. But this wasn’t by choice and right now Rocky was feeling a lot of things besides submission.

"Down," Tiran said again, and Rocky realized that he was kneeling up, his back straight and defiant. Slowly, he lowered himself until he was sitting on his haunches, and dropped his eyes.

He could feel Tiran surveying him coldly. "I should make you kiss my foot, Van. Like you said before. You’d do it, wouldn’t you?"

Rocky nodded, trying not to let his resentment show and hoping Tiran wouldn’t carry through with his threat.

"Because you said you’d do anything, and right now I do feel like making you crawl."

Rocky swallowed and managed to speak. "You – you wanted to know if I was avoiding you, Tiran. Can I answer that now?"

"You’ll answer when I’m ready." Tiran said sharply. He took a drink. "Jack was really pissed. Just like you said. You were right, he was packing when I got there. Does that make you feel better, knowing you were right?"

Slowly, Rocky shook his head.

"Speak up, Van!" Tiran said harshly.

"No, it doesn’t make me feel better," Rocky answered faintly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You do think it’s my fault, don’t you?"

Rocky felt trapped. With Tiran in this mood, a lie and the truth seemed equally dangerous. He forced himself to plead. "I’m sorry, Tiran. Please don’t make me -- "

"Shut up. You think it’s my fault because I made you speak in front of Jack instead of letting you talk to me in private. Well, you had plenty of fucking chances to talk to me alone. I’ve been waiting weeks – months – for you to tell me what was going on. You couldn’t be bothered to talk to me until I asked, and now you have the fucking nerve to complain about how I did it."

Rocky was almost relieved to be in agreement with Tiran. "Okay. Okay, Tiran, you’re right about that. I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you earlier, you’re right to be pissed off about it, okay? I’m sorry. But you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, it was never -- "

"Don’t fucking tell me what I’m doing. I thought you didn’t like me any more. I thought – it doesn’t matter what I thought, the point is that you never told me what was going on."

Rocky leaned forward, eager to explain. "I’m sorry Tiran – but it had nothing to do with you. I missed you, actually. I was just trying to accommodate Mr. Obernikoch, you know he doesn’t like me -- "

"You think that’s better, that it was about him?"

"Tiry -- " Rocky looked confused. "I was just trying to be helpful. He doesn’t like it when you invite me along, you know. He’s your friend, don’t you want him to be …"

"You told me it wouldn’t change anything between us, having him here."

"What?" Rocky said and stopped, feeling his legs suddenly grow weak under him.

"You promised." And then there was a whiz and a crash as Tiran abruptly hurled his glass against the balcony rail. "You promised me, Rocky! You begged me to hire him, and you swore it would have no impact on us."

Rocky took his hands down from where they’d been covering his face against the flying shards and stared at Tiran. "I – I …" he began helplessly.

"I told you what was important to me – that you didn’t let this thing with Jack interfere with our friendship. You swore you could handle it. And now you sit here and tell me it’s okay that you haven’t gone out with me in three months because you thought he’d rather you didn’t?"

Rocky was stunned; in an instant his adrenaline had drained away and he found himself weak with remorse. He dropped his head to the ground, wishing now that he dared to kiss Tiran’s foot. "Darling Tiran," he whispered finally. "I didn’t even think of … "

But Tiran was on his feet already, stalking back into the house. "I don’t want to talk about it any more."

Rocky followed Tiran to the balcony door on his knees, afraid to get up. "But Tiran, please -- can’t I explain? I swear, I didn’t mean it like – it’s not that I couldn’t handle it, I just … I didn’t think about how it would look to you. I’m so sorry Tiran – please, don’t …"

"I get it, Van, you didn’t think. I don’t want to hear the excuses."

Rocky breathed unsteadily. "I’m sorry," he repeated weakly. "I’m supposed to be letting you … Don’t you want to – do anything? Make me pay?"

Tiran stood in the middle of the room and looked back at Rocky. "That’s Jack’s job," he said harshly. "I’m done."

With an effort, Rocky held himself still. "Okay. Tiry, you want me to leave? I’m – I’ll go. Please, can I just clean this up -- " He gestured at the shattered glass on the balcony floor, but Tiran shook his head.

"Gabe or someone can do that. Get up. Go."

Rocky got to his feet slowly and crossed the room; he paused for a moment at Tiran’s side but Tiran turned away. At the doorway Rocky hesitated and said quietly, "I’ll be in my room, boss." But there was no response. Rocky dropped his eyes and went out.


**********

III(1)

Rocky spent the rest of the day in his room. He thought about going to see Mr. Obernikoch during his office hours, but decided it was safer to wait till the next day. Tiran obviously didn’t want to see him, and Rocky didn’t want to take any chances on bumping into him in the house.

It was a long day. Rocky skipped lunch, thought about ordering up supper and in the end, skipped supper too. After a sleepness night, he was up early in the morning. There was a window in his room where he could just make out the glass door to Tiran’s balcony. Rocky had learned long ago how to read that door; he knew that Gabe opened the blinds each morning whenever Tiran was ready to face the light.

Today Rocky waited for the tell-tale sign, then slipped out of his room, down the stairs and along the hall to Tiran’s room. Rusty was sitting on the floor outside the door, where the morning shift usually waited for Tiran’s emergence. Rocky gave Rusty a quick nod, put his hand on the bedroom door and, very gently, pushed it open a sliver. He peeped inside and saw Tiran propped up in bed alone, a breakfast tray beside him. Looking up, Tiran met Rocky’s tentative smile, and if he didn’t smile back, he didn’t look surprised either. That was good enough. Rocky pushed the door a little further, slipped inside, and dropped to his knees against the wall.

"I fucked up, Tiran," Rocky said clearly, his voice low but forthright. "I’m really, really sorry."(2)

Tiran continued chewing his breakfast thoughtfully, looking at Rocky, and after a moment he gave a small half-smile in response.

Ducking his head to hide his delight, Rocky looked down for a second, then back up at Tiran with a little grin. "How many times have I had to tell you that, boss?"

Tiran picked up his toast. "It never grows old, Van."

Rocky’s smile was broader now. After a moment he murmured, "May I? Please?"

Tiran half-shrugged, went back to his breakfast, nodded. Sighing with relief, Rocky got up and went over and sank down on the edge of Tiran’s bed. They sat for a minute in companionable silence, then Tiran gestured at the tray. "Breakfast? Not much left, but I’ll send Rusty."

Rocky looked sheepish. "Maybe just some coffee. I’m kinda doing penance."

"By not eating?" Tiran glanced at him with amusement. "I think you’d better have something. You’re going to need all your strength when Jack gets hold of you."

Rocky gave a little shiver. "I’m sure you’re right," he admitted. "Isn’t he going to be missing you at the breakfast table?"

Tiran shook his head. "I already spoke to him. We’re meeting later."

Tiran called for Rusty and ordered Rocky’s breakfast. Then he pushed his tray aside and stretched out in the bed. Rocky laughed when he saw Tiran’s morning erection tenting the bed covers, and stretched out his hand to touch it.

"I was just thinking of having Gabe take care of that …" Tiran said.

Rocky grinned. "Oh, can I? Please?"

Tiran raised an eyebrow by way of agreement, so that when Rusty came back with the new tray he found Rocky head first under the covers, and Tiran sitting back in obvious enjoyment. Rusty tried not to laugh as he deposited the tray and went back outside.

Afterwards Rocky reversed direction but stayed under the covers beside Tiran, eating his breakfast while Tiran smoked and drank coffee. They chatted a bit, but after a few minutes Rocky grew serious again. He laid his silverware down on the tray and turned to Tiran. "Boss," he said quietly, "I didn’t thank you properly yesterday. May I now?"

Tiran exhaled coolly. "For what, Van?"

Rocky looked down. "For what you did with Mr. Obernikoch."

Tiran nodded. "You should thank me. It was tough."

"It was totally my fault, Tiry. I should have been the one to take the heat for it, not you."

"Well, you will be, don’t worry. He’s really pissed at you."

"As he should be. But it’s you I’m thinking about right now. I’m sorry you had to go through that but I’m truly grateful. Thank you."

"It was just like you said," Tiran said matter-of-factly. "He was convinced you were blaming him for why you weren’t hanging out with me. He thought you were going to tell me to choose between you and him."

Rocky winced. "I’m sure he still thinks that, boss. So what did you tell him?"

"That you’re not stupid enough to tell me to choose."

Rocky laughed. "I’m glad you think so, darling." He pushed the tray aside, and leaned back with his coffee. "Thank you again."

Tiran nodded. After a moment he asked, "Why were you so worried about answering me in front of Jack, anyway? Wouldn’t it have been easier in the long run to just go ahead?"

Rocky sighed remorsefully. "Of course it would have. I’m an idiot, Tiran. I completely miscalculated. I was …" He shook his head in frustration. "I totally didn’t see it coming, when you asked if I was avoiding you. I thought if I – if Mr. Obernikoch heard me tell you that I was trying to accommodate him … he’d think it was arrogant or patronizing. But I didn’t realize how it would look when I said I didn’t want to speak in front of him – until it was too late. I just wasn’t fast enough. I’m really sorry."

Tiran looked at him and for a moment they both hesitated, as though not sure they wanted to open the conversation again. Finally Rocky took Tiran’s hand under the covers and squeezed it. "Permission to raise the topic, boss? Absolutely no excuses, I promise. If I get out of line, just belt me."

After a moment, Tiran nodded, and Rocky gratefully raised the hand he was holding to his lips and kissed it. "Thanks. I just want to make sure we’re okay."

"So it really never occurred to you that I might notice you weren’t going out with me?" Tiran asked curiously.

Rocky almost cringed. "I know it seems unbelievable," he said. "I’m really that dense. Honestly, it was because I thought that – I mean, I guess I thought you realized what I was doing and why. I thought of it as … as being respectful to you and your friend."

"What is this about Jack not … ?"

"Well, he doesn’t like me much – you know it, boss. Of course that’s fine with me, I don’t blame him. I was just trying to be nice, let him enjoy himself for a while without having to put up with me."

"I doubt it’s that big a deal to him."

"Oh, I dunno …" Rocky said mildly. "I’ve seen how he looks when you invite me along. You know, he’s new here and he likes hanging out with you – and I know you like having him here. I just thought I’d give him some time to get settled; I didn’t plan to do it forever. I think …." Rocky paused and looked at Tiran thoughtfully. "I think it’s really odd for Jack to see you treating me like a friend – he’s not used to that. I guess in his world, people aren’t friends with their subs. I think it’s hard for him to be in a strange milieu, not knowing many people, and then seeing you be so nice to me … he’s not sure what to make of it. I just want him to be comfortable and happy."

Tiran laughed and gave Rocky a sudden, playful shove. "You’re such a girl, Rocky! Always worrying about people’s feelings."

"You’d worry about his feelings too if he took them out on your ass," Rocky said ruefully.

Tiran glanced at him slyly. "What … don’t tell me he’s fucking you too?"

Rocky laughed and looked away. "I wish," he mumbled; then immediately added guiltily, "Don’t ever tell him I said that!" He looked anxiously around the room, as if expecting to see cameras. "He’d really kill me, if he thought I ever dared to even think of that." He grinned at Tiran. "No. You know what he does to me – you’ve seen him when we’re out. You’ll notice I never did really keep away from you – I usually ended up wherever you guys were."

Tiran nodded. "I’ve seen what he does to you. It can’t be much fun."

Rocky laughed unconcernedly. "I’m happy to be with you guys no matter how much I get my ass kicked in public. I’m not saying I like it, but I can live with it. That doesn’t stop me, I promise."

"Well, you should have told me what was going on, Van."

"Absolutely. There’s no excuse. I’m truly sorry about that." Rocky’s expression softened as he looked at Tiran. "Please don’t tell me you really thought I was avoiding you?"

Tiran shrugged. "Yeah. I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me or … or, you know. You were tired of putting up with me."

"Tired of putting up with you?" Rocky repeated wonderingly. "Could you really think that?"

"Well," Tiran smiled, a little cynically. "You do put up with a lot of crap from me. I’m always thinking, you know – one day the worm will turn."

Rocky laughed out loud. "Not this worm."

"You’re not a worm, Rocky. Sorry. I didn’t mean that."

"I know," Rocky nuzzled up to Tiran, smiling. "You don’t treat me so badly."

Tiran put an arm around him distractedly. "It’s like … if this was a movie, there’d be this moment where you say, ‘That’s enough – just because I made one mistake, I’m not putting up with this shit forever.’"

Rocky burrowed into his neck. "I’ve made lots more than one mistake. And I’m more than happy here, I’m not putting up with anything I don’t want to. I’m sorry, okay? I can’t believe I left you to worry about this for months. That’s the worst part of all." Rocky gave Tiran a lingering kiss by way of apology, and from the way Tiran returned it, Rocky thought it might be safe to consider himself forgiven.

For a moment they lay curled together on the bed, but when Rocky started to slide downwards again, Tiran caught him stifling a yawn and pulled him back up. "Bet you didn’t get much sleep last night," Tiran said sympathetically. "Why don’t you nap for a bit now?"

"Sorry …" Rocky looked sheepish. "Yeah, I’d love to, but I really have to go see Mr. Obernikoch first."

"Nap now … go later," Tiran suggested pragmatically.

"No – what time is it? Office hours are gonna end in half an hour. Then I won’t have another chance for two days. I’d really better go now. I’ll nap after." Rocky sat up on the bed regretfully and gave Tiran a quick kiss. "If you’re sure you forgive me?"

Tiran smiled. "If I haven’t now, I will when Jack’s through with you. I almost feel bad about that."

"Don’t." Rocky stood up with a reassuring grin. "You know I deserve it."

As usual, Tiran wasn’t worried for long. Already he was looking at his phone. "Can you send Rusty in when you go?" he asked distractedly.

Rocky laughed and went out, feeling a lot better now than he did the last time he left that room.


**********


Epilogue

Rocky waited in the anteroom, kneeling. Seemed like he spent a lot of his time there, he thought. And on his knees in general.

He glanced at his watch, trying not to listen to the muffled voices inside the office. Sounded like Gabe was in there. Rocky wondered how much longer they’d be. Office hours would be over in less than fifteen minutes. Maybe Mr. Obernikoch wouldn’t even take Rocky at this stage.

The voices stopped. Rocky dropped his head and kept his eyes on the floor. In a couple of minutes he heard the door open, and saw Gabe’s feet move across the small anteroom.

"Hey, Rocky," Gabe said. His voice sounded a little weak.

Rocky smiled, not looking up. He couldn’t tell whether Mr. Obernikoch had followed Gabe to the office door, and didn’t want to take a chance. "Hi Gabe," he said.

There was a pause after Gabe left, and Rocky suddenly knew Mr. Obernikoch was there; something in the stillness of the room made his presence palpable.

After a moment Mr. Obernikoch’s voice came softly, from the open office door. "Well, well. Look who’s come to pay me another visit."

Rocky bit his lip. "Sir," he said simply.

There was another pause. Rocky’s nervousness increased.

"Did you think I missed you?"

"No sir," Rocky said carefully.

Jack seemed to be leaning against the doorframe now. "Well?" His voice was still low and dangerous.

Rocky swallowed. "I hoped to be able to apologize for – for my behaviour yesterday."

"Your behaviour?"

Rocky had thought this through. "I was rude and disrespectful during my conversation with Tiran," he said. "And because of that, I … created misunderstandings and inconveniences for both you and Tiran – which I take full responsibility for, sir."

"How nice. But not too soon, I see, since you didn’t bother to show up yesterday, and then waited till the last minute today."

Rocky flushed deeply. "Sir, I was afraid to leave my room yesterday. Tiran didn’t want to see me and I was afraid that if I left, I might bump into him. And I didn’t come earlier today because I … I was still apologizing to Tiran until now."

There was no response to this. In the long silence that followed, Rocky tried not to move, though he realized he was trembling slightly. Too much drama in the last couple of days, he thought to himself.

Finally Mr. Obernikoch spoke again. "That’s all you have to say, Van Valkenburg?"

"Sir, I – I also hope you’ll be punishing me for the way I’ve treated Tiran. I know I’ll … have other things to add to my list at the meeting this week. But I don’t mean to take up your time with that right now."

"And nothing else?" Jack asked, still smooth and sardonic. "No apologies for – oh, you know. Trying to manipulate and exploit Tiran yesterday? And damage his relationship with me?"

Rocky had to steel himself not to drop to the ground completely. He cursed himself for not having prepared for this. "Mr. Obernikoch," he began, but his voice was barely audible. He stopped and swallowed a couple of times, still not daring to raise his eyes. "I’m not asking you to believe me," he whispered. "And … I can’t say I wasn’t trying to manipulate Tiran in some way. That’s what I -- want to apologize for. But … sir," he added, and this time he did lower his forehead to the ground. "I would never, never do anything to … I would never want to …" He took a breath and tried again. "I’m so sorry for … "

But Jack had had enough. "All right, you can shut up," he said impassively. There was another pause, and Rocky thought Mr. Obernikoch might be considering his next move. Then, a moment later, it came.

"Look up, Rocky."

Rocky lifted his eyes in shock. He couldn’t remember Mr. Obernikoch ever using his first name before.

"I want you to know that if you ever pull a stunt like that again, you’re going to find out what I’m really capable of. You have no idea how easy I’ve been on you so far, but the next time I have to deal with something like this, you’ll find out. I can do a lot of damage before anyone stops me, even Tiran. And if you think I don’t have any influence over Tiran, we will find that out too. Do you understand me?"

Rocky forced himself to hold Mr. Obernikoch’s gaze. Jack was watching him from the office doorway and through his shock, Rocky felt something else as well – there was something about the way Jack was looking at him that took him by surprise.

Rocky nodded and tried to speak but this time nothing came out.

"For now, I don’t want to see you and I don’t want Tiran to have to see you. I think you should stay out of the house for a while. You’ll report to Boothsby when you leave here. Sun-up to sun-down in the fields, till the next meeting. Understood?"

Rocky nodded again and managed to get out "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," Jack said coolly, and walked back into his office.

Rocky let out his breath and held still for a moment, recovering, before he got to his feet unsteadily and headed out, towards the gardener’s office. His mind was reeling for a few minutes but as he calmed, two thoughts stayed with him. One was that Mr. Obernikoch had been surprisingly easy on him; he had expected much worse. And the other was that it looked like he wasn’t going to get that nap today.
1 "Early next morning he knocked at the door of my room. He took advantage of my usual morning torpor to bring about the reconciliation I longed for." - Jean Genet, Funeral Rites

2 "I take a breath and ask him, 'May I please talk to you?' He looks at me attentively but doesn't answer me. I take that as a yes, and continue, "I fucked up. I'm sorry, really sorry.'" - Pool Table and My Balls, Chapter 37 (please see my warnings first)

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