Page 12 of Fire & Ice

Obediently, Tripp tips his head back, intending to allow Leander access to the clasp. “No,” Leander says gently, shaking his head in refusal. “You are solely in control of removing your collar. That’s very important to me. I can request for you to put it on or take it off, but to actually do somustbe your choice.Especially right now, considering what I’m asking. Do you understand?”

Tripp looks Leander straight in the eyes and nods solemnly. “Yes, Sir,” he replies, and Leander’s heart clenches in his chest as Tripp fumbles with the buckle sitting over his Adam’s apple. For a moment, Leander worries that he won’t be able to undo it, but then it slips free and Tripp peels the leather from around his neck. The box is still sitting inside the catch-all bowl in the entryway, so Tripp returns the collar to it before taking a seat next to Leander on the couch.

“It’s weird,” Tripp says almost immediately, pulling a leg up and wrapping his arm around it protectively, which Leander finds immensely interesting. Tripp’s never been shy or ashamed of his body, so perhaps he’s feeling vulnerable. Leander will have to keep an eye on that—their interactions are supposed to improve Tripp’s self-esteem, not damage it.

Oblivious to his internal musings, Tripp continues talking, which is a good thing. “Not like I haven’t sat on your couch a million times before. Shouldn’t feel any different, right?”

With a shrug, Leander helps himself to a gulp of the remaining coffee before passing it over to Tripp. It’s cold and could use a refill, but Leander senses that Tripp needs something to do with his hands more than he needs a drink.

“I think it’s fine to feel however you do right now. Our dynamic has changed, it makes sense that your feelings towards me and being in my space may have shifted as well. There’s nothing wrong with that, but we should talk about it. The last thing I want is for that shift to impact our friendship, Tripp. Losing what we already have because of missteps surrounding sex and submission, that would be...” Leander trails off and shakes his head. “Unforgivable. Meaning, I would never forgive myself.”

Predictably, Tripp nods and then shoves his face into the mug, taking an exaggeratedly long sip while Leander waits patiently. He swallows when he surfaces, licking his tempting pink lips and flexing fidgety fingers across the curved ceramic. “Well, I hear you, but for whatever it’s worth, I had an awesome time and I wouldn’t take any of it back. Hell, you want my honest opinion on all this? Here it is.”

Tripp pauses, waiting for Leander to meet his gaze before laying out his thoughts. In typical Tripp style, no punches are pulled. “It helped. Did exactly what you said it would, and I want more. I liked getting out of my own head. I liked not knowing or having control over what was coming next. And I want…I want to doallthe stuff we matched on, the things on the kinks list.” He stretches out a hand, beckons with his fingers like,come at me.“Bring it on, baby.”

“Really?” Leander speaks without thinking, but Tripp’s phrasing is both surprising and relieving—it hits him hard. Of course, he suspected that his friend enjoyed himself, considering the way he essentially passed out from the orgasm, but that was no guarantee he wasin.No promise that he wouldn’t wake up and decide that being a submissive wasn’t for him, or that being withLeanderwasn’t, either.

Despite what Tripp has said in the past about only being interested in exploring the scene with someone he trusts unconditionally, it’s no secret that the world is full of other Doms and Dommes. Most of whom would wait in alinefor a shot at handling someone like Tripp.

Truthfully, a not-small part of Leanderdidwonder if Tripp wouldn’t simply use him to get his feet wet, to take the edge off of the terror that giving up control for the first time brings. A test-run, so to speak, before swiftly moving on. It’s a weightoff of his shoulders—perhaps more than it should be—to hear directly from Tripp that, at least for now, this isn’t the case.

Wanting to appear genuine, Leander pivots his body to face Tripp more fully. It takes him a second or two digesting his friend’s concerned eyebrow raise before he realizes how his blurted-out reply must have been received. “I didn’t mean—” Leander cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, shaking his head before offering Tripp what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

He continues, “I’mveryhappy to hear you say that, because I also found our encounter to be extremely satisfying. I was hopeful you’d want to do it again, to continue our contract for as long as scening remains both enjoyable and beneficial for both of us.” In response, Tripp’s cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head, focusing on obtaining what has to be the absolute dregs of that coffee, but Leander doesn’t call him on it. He just waits, and when Tripp lowers the cup, Leander’s still staring, catching his eye and smiling encouragingly.

They look at each other dopily for nearly a full minute before Tripp clears his throat, puts his cup down, stands and stretches. It’s a lost cause—Leander’s unable to even pretend that he isn’t gawking at the way Tripp’s muscles move when his body changes position, and Tripp smirks openly when he notices. Wanting to regain the upper hand in the conversation, Leander stands up with him, carrying the dirty dishes over to the sink and refilling Tripp’s mug from the carafe.

“Are you off this weekend?” he asks, aiming for casual conversation, something closer to their usual dynamic.

“You know I am,” Tripp replies easily, trailing behind and leaning forward over the breakfast bar using his elbows, propping his chin in his hands.

Brat,Leander thinks, suppressing the urge to spank him, collared or not.

“We work the same rotation, sunshine.”

“I didn’t know if you picked up any OT,” Leander retorts, holding the mug out. “I’m not your keeper.” Tripp snorts and Leander tips his head to the side, one corner of his mouth inadvertently ticking up. “Poor choice of words?”

“Awesome choice of words,” Tripp declares, accepting the refreshed coffee with a wink before downing at least half of it in one go. “Depending on what our next scene is.” A thrill shoots down Leander’s spine at those words (and the images that whip tantalizingly through his mind to accompany them).

“About that,” Leander says carefully, not failing to notice the way Tripp’s eyes follow his fingers as they walk their way across the countertop. Perhaps Tripp is not the only one with anxiety soothed by keeping their hands busy.

“I have some thoughts. I believe that we’re on the same page regardingtrying it all, and for starters, I would like to increase our next scene’s intensity level. I don’t want to do that if you have somewhere to be the next day, for safety reasons. I work tonight and then am off Friday through Sunday, back in on Sunday night. That would mean I’d be available to you for that entire time period, as well. There wouldn’t be any pressure for you to leave my apartment, and I could care for you, if necessary.”

The reaction Leander gets to that bit of long-windedness is unexpected, especially since Tripp has been so easygoing about everything thus far. On the other side of the counter, he fidgets, and a discontented noise finds its way out of his throat. It’s a bit unnerving, but Tripp holds up a hand to stave off Leander’s worry, which is unquestionably showing on his face.

“Okay, two things,” Tripp says suddenly, shoulders straightening. “One, all that sounds great. Whatever you want, buddy, I’m here for it. Seriously. But on the flip side, are we gonna…” Tripp motions clumsily with his hands, gesturing between their bodies as Leander cocks his head to the side, confused. Clearly exasperated, Tripp sighs and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“All thistalking, pal,” he blurts out. “You’re not gonna make me do this every time, are you? ‘Cause buddy, I gotta be honest, this analytical shit isn’t really my thing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Leander taps his lips thoughtfully with the pads of his fingers. It’s not as if he was intentionally trying to turn this into a roundtable discussion, just keep the flow of communication open between himself and his new sub. “Comprehensive debriefing is important in any Dom / sub relationship, but especially one like ours, where you are very new to this and we have our underlying friendship to consider.”

Tripp scratches at the back of his neck and shrugs, letting his arms drop and both of his hands clap loudly against his bare thighs when they do. “I know, Lee, I get that. I’m not saying that I don’t want you to check-in, I do. I appreciate the due diligence—I can tell how seriously you take this stuff and, you know, it makes me feel safe, or whatever. But the whole, nothavingto talk, it’s part of what I signed on for, and maybe I wasn’t clear enough about that. What Iwantis to hand the thinking, the decision-making, over to you. All of it. I want—fuck.”

Abruptly, Tripp turns away, dragging a hand over his face and allowing it to linger on his chin with the other planted firmly on his hip. The set of his shoulders and the dip of his head conveys self-disgust and embarrassment, which makes Leander feel terrible.

This is hard for him,Leander realizes. It genuinely never occurred to him that it would be, that this type of debriefing could be asking way too much of his emotionally-constipated friend. For Tripp, this conversation is apparently much closer to “feelings” territory than Leander would have placed it himself, in addition to likely hitting his shame buttons, specifically in regards toaskingout loudfor things that he wants and needs.

Tripp can’t separate the discussion from the act—not yet. They can work on that together, sure, but to jump in this way was abigmiscalculation on Leander’s part. Thankfully, it’s been caught, and it’s an easy fix.

---