Page 22 of Fire & Ice

“I’m good,” Tripp replies honestly, tipping his head back in time to catch a glimpse of Leander’s soft smile directed hisway. “Really, I swear.Sir,” he adds smugly, tacking the moniker onto the end of his reply like an afterthought, intentionally bratty.

“I believe you, Tripp,” Leander assures him, ignoring Tripp’s dangling bait, and then it’s silent for a moment while Lee's finger traces over his collarbone and down the line of his sternum. “I know you don’t wish to debrief, but may I at least ask whether or not you enjoyed yourself?”

Caught off-guard by that particular twist in the conversation, Tripp barks a laugh and grins up at his Dom when he’s able. “Uh, yeah, you could say that,” he replies, pulling his lip slowly and provocatively through the cage of his teeth. Lee seems pleased with that answer, his face practically glowing in the dim light, and Tripp likes the look on him, wants more than anything to be the reason Lee looks like that all of the damn time. All because ofhim.

“It’s late,” Leander tells him gently, soft fingers continuing to stroke across his chest and the curve of his face. “Time…got away from us this evening, not that I’m complaining. However, I may fall asleep on you shortly if I don’t admit that between my difficult shift and tonight’s activities, I’m quickly running out of steam. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“Oh,” Tripp says weakly, surprised and unprepared for Leander to be kicking him to the curb after everything, but he sits up and moves to start gathering his things all the same. It makes sense. Lee is tired, Lee deserves some time to himself. The last thing he needs is a high-maintenance sub hanging out in his space, sapping his energy, and—

“No, Tripp, wait—” Leander reaches out an arm and catches his wrist, tugging him back down onto the mattress. “I wasn’t attempting to subtly suggest that you should leave.On the contrary, if you’re interested in doing another scene tomorrow morning, I would very much like for you to stay.”

The earnest look on Lee's face, paired with those wide blue eyes practically pleading for Tripp to accept his offer, have him feeling like putty in his best friend’s hands. Who on earth could deny someone who looks likethatwhen they want something?

“You know, you can pretty safely assume that the ‘yes’ reply to a ‘wanna do it again?’ is a given with me,” he replies, pasting on his best smirk, if only for Lee's benefit.

“Be that as it may, the scene that I have in mind is exciting but intense, and I—well, you said that you didn’t want any spoilers. Now that I know you’re up for it, I suppose I have what I need, and can let you be.” With that, Leander works his way off of the bed, sauntering over towards the door, and Tripp doesn’t need to see his face in order to know that Lee is wearing a smirk of his own.

“Oh, that is cold, Le—Sir,” he corrects himself, just in time.

When Leander twists at the waist in the doorway, he’s sporting a full-on predatory grin, and Tripp can’t help but marvel at howhe’ssupposed to be the brat in this relationship.Damn. But then he sees Lee stifling a yawn, and Tripp’s instantly back to wishing he hadn’t left the bed, that they were about to curl up together and justbe—no rules, no boundaries, no expectations. They’ve only really done this twice, and it’s already becoming difficult for Tripp to switch gears, to turn his outward desire towards Lee off and on like a lightswitch.

“So you’ll stay?” Lee is asking, when Tripp tunes back in.

“I’ll stay,” Tripp allows, scooting back onto the bed and spreading his arms wide on the pillows. “You know, this mattressishuge,” he adds, shooting for casual. “Plenty of room for two. No reason we can’t sleep in the same place again, right?I thought it was pretty nice last time. I mean, you know, if you wanted company.”

To Tripp’s dismay, Leander’s face does about a thousand things all at once, none of which mean anything good for him.Oh fuck,he thinks, realizing with some horror that he’s just made a huge mistake that’s about to turn things incredibly awkward. Lee doesn’t want to sleep next to him—of course he doesn’t. That’s not what this is, not what either of them agreed to, and now, thanks to Tripp’s selfish idiocy, Lee thinks he has to figure out how tosay sowithout coming off likehe’sthe major-league dick.

Shit.

So Tripp does what he does best—he rushes to make a joke.

“Dude, relax,” he says, offering what he hopes is an easygoing laugh as he tucks his hands casually behind his head. Lee is so obviously distraught that he doesn’t even catch the slip, doesn’t remind Tripp that he’s wearing his collar, and that it’s‘Sir’right now. “You should see your face. I was just messing with you, didn’t think you’d take it so seriously. Go on, get out of here. Tripp Truett does not cuddle.” He punctuates the last sentence with a pointed finger and an equally sharp look that has Leander’s expression melting into one of pure relief.

After that, Lee can’t seem to bolt from the room fast enough, although he does take the time to remind Tripp that there’s more juice in the fridge, and that he’s welcome to come out and watch TV if he can’t sleep, or to utilize anything else in the apartment to make himself at home. It’s cute and unnecessary, and it makes Tripp’s chest tight to watch Lee try and compensate for not wanting to stay in the same bed with him overnight.

When the door finally clicks shut, leaving the room dark and empty, the smile Tripp’s wearing immediately drops from his face. Inwardly, he vows to be more careful, to never let something like what just happened do so again. Lee is in this for one thing and one thing only, and that shit was on the label. Likefuckis Tripp going to allow his inconvenient emotions ruin this for the both of them.

Before Leander ran away, he also let Tripp know that he could remove his collar if he wanted, for sleep. That he was under no obligation to stay in “sub-mode” overnight or into the morning—not if he didn’t want that. If he’s being honest, for the first time since Leander presented him with him the collar, the temptation to take it off isthere. Seeing his best friend reject the offer to stay in the same bed was tough, and Tripp would be lying if he claimed that a little distance from the whole arrangement didn’t sound good right now.

On the other hand, his emotions are on the edge. He hasn’t experienced any sort of “drop” for himself yet, nor has he seen any signs of it on Leander, but the potential is certainly there—Tripp can feel it. While he may not fully grasp all the specific minutiae of aftercare or the details particular to ‘Lee’versus ‘Doms in general’, Tripp definitely gets the importance of the process. And Lee did do a stellar job with him tonight, but there’s still…something. A lingering instability in the back of his mind, a crawling worry or fear that he can’t quite articulate just yet.

Tripp’s not an idiot. He knows perfectly well that those feelings are an indicator of drop, but they’re not overwhelming him, not taking over or monopolizing his thoughts in any way that he can’t control. So instead of tracking Lee down and filling him in—especiallyknowing how much Lee wants to be in hisown bed, not trapped in here with an annoying sub—Tripp fights off the creeping gloom.

He goes over to the armoire containing the fridge, grabs a juice, and retrieves his phone from the pocket of the pants he left crumpled and kicked to the side of the bathroom. Settling uneasily back into bed, he thumbs through a mindless internet game, and after popping virtual soda bottles for the better part of half an hour, Tripp feels a little more solid. Better, but not fully like himself.

He lets out a sigh and glances around the darkened room. His widened pupils take in the shadows of various pieces of equipment, his gaze drawn to the armoires towering overhead. They look at least twice as big with the deep pockets of darkness reaching like arms to envelop them.

The collar sits weighty on his neck. It itches and feels tight, whereas usually, it makes him feel free. Right now, there’s nothing Tripp would like to do more than rip it off, but just theideaof doing so has him feeling worse. What if he wakes up in full drop and can’t find his collar? Or shaking hands keep him from buckling it back together? What if he goes to the bathroom to piss, panics, and his collar isn’t nearby? Lee made the rules crystal clear—he won’t touch him when he’s not wearing it, and Trippcan’trisk that right now.

As he scoots down into the mattress and pulls the blanket up over his shoulders, Tripp grumbles quietly to himself. It’s frustrating, having these emotions swirling around inside of him, but most of all, he’s annoyed. Annoyed that he’s feeling some type of way at all, annoyed that he needs Leander and can’t have him, annoyed that Leander would apparently rather be anywhere else than by his side.

Tripp closes his eyes and pushes a few slow, calming breaths through his lungs. The irritation, the prickly attitude—none of it passes or starts to ebb away. Ultimately, Tripp is cognizant enough to come to terms with what’s up and not coming down here, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to ruin Lee's night over it.

Instead, Tripp decides to go deep. Squeezing his eyelids tight, he thinks back on their scene, on the adoring way Leander looked at him, and some of the things that he said.

“Good boy,”Leander had murmured, his voice warm and rich and appreciative. Tripp can still hear the words ringing in his head, feel Lee's breath soft against his skin.

“Perfect. You’re perfect.”That one was whispered against Tripp’s mouth, leaving him greedily swallowing every word, gulping them down desperately, flaming with embarrassment to hear such praise directed his way, and yet—it all feltsodamn good.

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