Page 65 of Fire & Ice

“Alright,” Tripp says slowly, thinking through his next move carefully. “Listen, I could tell you how dumb that is until your ears bleed, promise that you won’t feel this way forever, but I know what it’s like to be all up in your own head. How about this, you trust me?”

When Leander nods, his hair brushes against Tripp’s jaw, tickling it.

“‘Kay, give me a minute.”

Without getting up, Tripp extracts his phone from his pocket and fires off a text message. Less than five minutes later, there’s a knock on the bunkroom door, and Leander jolts upright, alarmed. “Don’t worry,” Tripp soothes. “It’s just Gunnar dropping off my bag. I’m going to get up and grab it, and then I’ll be back, okay? It’s six o’clock, I’m off duty. I’m not gonna leave you, Lee, you hear me?”

In a role reversal that has even him spinning, Tripp grabs Leander’s chin and forces him to look up. “Sir,” he adds softly, and Lee's eyes well up again almost immediately, but he nods.

As quickly as he can move, Tripp grabs the duffle bag from where it’s been dropped outside the door, not bothering to glance down the hallway and see if anyone’s gawking or trying to snoop on them. It’s a firehouse, so Tripp’s sure there’s someone, but fuck ‘em. When he steps back inside the bathroom, Leander’s still sitting on the toilet, blowing his nose and generally looking like he’s workingreallydamn hard to keep his shit together.

Closing the door behind him, Tripp drops his bag, turns on the shower, and then strips before dropping into a crouch and removing Lee's shoes and socks. He doesn’t ask permission before taking Leander by the hand and hauling him to his feet,finally following the instincts that tell him to lean in and kiss him softly.

It’s meant to be nothing more than reassuring, and Leander seems to take it that way, making a sad little noise in the back of his throat when their lips meet. Wordlessly, Tripp relieves him of the rest of his clothing, folding each piece neatly and leaving them in a pile at the edge of the sink.

By the time they’re stepping into the shower—Tripp leading and Leander following him so trustingly—the usually confident Dom is looking slightly less devastated. It’s enough of the old Lee peeking through that Tripp feels comfortable in deviating asmidgefrom the panickedcomfortcomfortcomfortmode he’s shoehorned himself into, out of necessity.

Under the hot spray, he drags Leander close and rests one hand at the small of his back, grabbing Lee’s wrist with the other before lacing their fingers together.

“Are we…dancing?” Leander asks, a small smile gracing his handsome, if still mournful, face. Tripp just grins down at him and shuffles them around the small space as best he can until Leander gives in and laughs, wrapping an arm around Tripp’s neck in tacit approval. The silly dancing evolves into holding each other close, turns into Leander soaping Tripp up, to Tripp kissing Leander against the shower wall, and doing so without even particularly worrying about what it is he’s doing.

It’s only after, when the water’s turned off and Leander is visibly feeling better, when they’re dry and buttoned-up into their nice clothing for Beau's rehearsal, that it even occurs to Tripp that what they did in the shower wasnotnecessarily within the parameters of their negotiated contract. Itdefinitelywasn’t platonic friend behavior, either, so what does he do with that? Where does that leave him?

Where does it leavethem?

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Lee needed him, Tripp gave him what he needed. He supposes it’s as simple as that. Speaking of which—

“C’mon,” Tripp says, looping an arm through Leander’s. “You’ve been in here folding shit for hours, you’ve gotta be starving. We’ll get you a burger on the way to the church, alright?”

Instead of replying, Leander stops him at the bunkroom door, right before Tripp can pull it open. “Thank you,” he says simply, letting his arm drop so that he can slip a hand into Tripp’s and squeeze. “Not just for—” he motions towards the bathroom. “That. But for trusting me. For believing in us.”

Surprised, Tripp squeezes back readily. “I told you,” he says. “I need you.”

“Yes,” Leander replies, holding Tripp’s eye contact this time, all on his own, and Tripp finds himself feeling not only relieved, but proud. “I need you, too.”

“Then let’s go, sunshine.”

Chapter 8

It’s a wonder what a little food and some affection from Tripp does to turn Leander’s mood around, though the bad energy lingers. The inside of his head is still a bit of a jumbled mess, riddled with guilt and the shadows of things that he knows better than to believe in, though they haunt him nonetheless.

It’s been years since Leander has experienced a drop like that, not since he first began experimenting in the scene and tried some casual submitting, just to learn what it was like to be “on the other side.” While he didn’t particularly enjoy the experience of being dominated, it was useful to understand the spectrum of things his potential subs might go through, the emotional highs and lows. For that, Leander is glad that he did it.

Still, he encountered some real assholes in the process, predators branding themselves “Doms” who were really just horny bullies with consent issues wanting to be called “Daddy.” These were people who didn’t seem to understand that submission is a gift, a privilege, and thatallsubs deserve both respect and something in return for the things they offer up freely.

Thankfully, and perhaps by pure luck, Leander never found himself in a situation where he was in danger, never had an encounter violate his boundaries or escalate further than he was willing to go. He would be lying, though, if he said that his early experiences weren’t a significant factor in not wanting Tripp dipping his toesanywherenear the local scene. Not on his own, anyway.

Yes, Leander’s initial offer to act as Tripp’s Domwaspartially selfish, but on the other hand, he’s always been openwith Tripp and their mutual friends about the scene and his involvement in it. He’s had plenty of conversations with Tripp in the past—both with and without others present—to notice Tripp’s interest, to see where it was leading. Especially now, Leander truly believes that if hehadn’toffered to take him under his wing, it would only have been a matter of time before Tripp sought a Dom for himself.

All of those things came back to bite Leander in the ass today. Never particularly experiencing drop as a Dom (though, now, he’s wondering whether some was happening at the beginning of his and Tripp’s relationship and he was too focused onTrippto realize it), the intense wave of emotion took him by surprise, to say the least. The feelings themselves were recognizable, sure, but they were also intertwined with guilt and self-recrimination in a way he had no reason to feel back when he was a sub. Thus, it was a lot harder for him to cope.

Thiscrash was centered aroundTripp,because what isn’t when it comes to Leander, these days?More specifically, the drop flooded his brain with all of the times Leander perceived he failed Tripp, the ways he let him down—whether logical or not.

From the very start, Leander promised to keep Trippsafe.That was his base reasoning, the concept that pushed him into offering himself up, into looking past the threat of having his secret feelings exposed. It was all forTripp’ssake,Tripp’swell-being.Leander: Experienced Dom and Caring Best Friend,was supposed to be the better choice, thesafeoption, the one who would always put Tripp and his best interests first: purely, reliably, and without hesitation.

After today’s events, it’s clear to Leander that the trust Tripp placed in him to do that very thing has been blown to smithereens. Not once, buttwice,at that.Firstly when he didn’trecognize that Tripp was dropping, or pick up on what Tripp needed tonotfeel that way, and secondly when he didn’t trust his gut onalwayscreating space and time togive those thingsto both of them.

The hard truth is, they played with fire this morning. Whether Tripp did or didn’t actually drop after he left the apartment is irrelevant. That is what Leander has ultimately decided, after copious hours agonizing over the matter, folding laundry and brooding angstily while waiting for Tripp to show up. Facts are facts—regardless of things working out, Trippcouldhave dropped, and if he had, it would have happened becauseLeanderrelaxed the strict boundaries for the affection and reassurance heknowsTripp needs after a scene.

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