Page 107 of Fire & Ice

“I need to ask you something,” Leander blurts out almost anxiously, which is un-Leander-like enough to be somewhat disconcerting. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I feel it’s imperative that I do so before tonight, however…there just never seems to be agoodtime.” As Leander reaches a hand into his pocket, Tripp suddenly catches on, but Lee has the box out and is dropping to one knee before he can stop him.

“Oh,hellno!” Tripp declares vehemently, and only in retrospect does he realize what that must sound like to Lee. The impact registers all over Leander’s face, though, and Tripp immediately feels like an ass. The guy looks like someone killed his puppy in front of him. “No, no—shit,” Tripp adds, frustrated and a bunch of other emotions he’s too surprised to parse out right now. “That’s not—I’m not—Lee,you idiot.”

Unsurprisingly, Tripp’s poor attempt to backtrack goes over like a lead balloon. Fumbling with his hands, Leandertries and fails to quickly stuff the box he’s holding back into his pocket. Tears well up around the waterlines of his bright blue eyes in a way that has Tripp wholeheartedly believing he’ll be deserving every inch of the spanking he’s set to receive later.

“Lee, I’m sorry,” Tripp tries, reaching out to graze Leander’s bicep as he awkwardly stands back up off the ground. Tripp just wants to touch him, but—and rightly so—Lee isn’t interested, shrugging Tripp’s hand off and turning away.

“You don’t need to explain, Tripp,” is all he says.

Increasingly alarmed, Tripp figures he has about ten seconds to set this thing right before the damage verges dangerously close to unfixable.Thank God for hardwood floors.

His own little box clutched tight in hand, Tripp sprints a few paces and then skids to cut Leander off before he can make it across the living room, sliding down onto one kneealmostgracefully. Before Leander can so much as blink, Tripp pops the box open and presents it earnestly upward.

“I was just pissed because you got there first,” he says honestly, with a little shrug and the smile he knows Lee is a sucker for. “Still kinda am, honestly. Dude, what are the fucking odds?” Above him, Leander is visibly struggling to process, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head before opening them again and peering down at Tripp in disbelief.

“Okay, yeah, I deserve that,” Tripp admits. “But put yourself in my shoes.”

“Iamin your shoes, right now,” Leander points out, still not addressing the box or the question, and—oh, Tripp didn’t actually ask the question, did he?

“Shit,” Tripp remarks again, wincing as the pressure of the hard floor on his bad knee starts to make it throb. He’s healed, sure, but dropping his entire weight onto a recently fracturedbone pressed against an unforgiving surface isn’t exactly advisable.Especiallyif it’s just to make a point, but too late now.

“Let me—” Leander murmurs, dropping down to thread an arm underneath Tripp’s shoulder and around his back to help him stand, but Tripp resists.

“No,” he says, pulling away slightly, as much as he can afford to do without winding up toppling over. “No, Lee, please. I wanna do this for you. You deserve one fucking thing that isn’t tainted by—by my bullshit.”

Finally, Tripp seems to have said the right thing, and Leander’s face softens. “Alright,” he says, withdrawing his arm and sitting back on his heels.

“Really? You’re just gonna sit there?” In response, Leander raises his eyebrows, folds his arms across his chest, and waits. “Fine,” Tripp sighs. “Guess I deserve that, too.” He winces again as his knee cracks, holding up a dismissive palm when Lee's face shifts with concern. “At least give me your hand,” he says, impatiently wiggling his own until Leander obliges.

“Lee,” Tripp starts, and then immediately falters. He’s confident, he’s ready, but in all the commotion, every single thing Tripp’s prepared and had ready to say has fled from his brain. “Son of a bitch. Maybe I should have just let you go first,” he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed and ducking his head.

But Leander shuffles forward, takes both of Tripp’s hands and the ring box between them and dips his head low so that Tripp is forced to look him in the eye. He’s still teary, but Tripp’s pretty damn sure it’s not because he’s feeling rejected—at least, he hopes not.

“I want to hear what you have to say,” Lee says gently.

Staring down at their joined hands, Tripp takes a deep breath before letting it out and speaking from the heart. “Lee, I ain’t got any fancy words for you,” he chokes out past the lump in his throat. “I had this whole thing, but…” He shakes his head, blinking away his own tears. “I messed this all up.” Pausing, Tripp sucks in yet another lungful of air—boy, that’s becoming a theme—and composes himself. Voice shaky, he presses on. “Sweetheart, fuck up or not, all I want is you. I hope you know that by now. Marry me. Wear my ring. I want to wear yours.”

It’s not like he thinks Lee is gonna say no—not now, anyway—but for whatever reason, it’s still damn hard for Tripp to lift his gaze and to meet Lee's eyes, to see his response. Maybe that’s because then, it’ll be real. Maybe it’s because deep down, Trippstillfeels like he isn’t worthy of Lee's affection, his love. Those insecurities haven’t reared their ugly heads in a while, but old scars run deep. Tripp is who he is.

When Trippdoesraise his eyes, all he finds in Lee's face looking back is unflinching love and acceptance. Suddenly, Lee's emotional response to Tripp’s presumed rejection feels all the more powerful, and Tripp’s melting into his arms before he can stop himself.

“Lee,” Tripp whimpers, when Leander catches him, “I’m sorry I made you think—even for asecond—”

“I didn’t really,” Leander admits, stroking a comforting hand down Tripp’s back. “I was confused. Let’s not—”

“Okay,” Tripp agrees readily, nosing at the space just below Lee's ear, breathing him in, clutching at his clothing, soothing his own rough edges. “Um…so?”

Against Tripp’s chest, Leander’s body shakes with quiet laughter, and yet, Tripp can feel him moving to wipe the back of his hand across his face. “Yes,” he rumbles, and Tripp feelsa rush of relief and excitement and just—warmth,like nothing he’s ever experienced.

Tripp sits up and Lee isrightthere, big hands reaching to cup both sides of his face as he smiles, eyes crinkling and shining. “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!”

“Me too,” Tripp exclaims, and then they’re kissing and Lee is pushing him down to the floor, wrapping hands around the back of his head to cushion it and licking enthusiastically into Tripp’s mouth. In the chaos, the ring box goes tumbling from Tripp’s hand, but Lee recovers it quickly. He pulls away and Tripp chases him, trying to make Leander bring his mouth back, but he’s insistent.

“I want my ring,” Leander demands, and hell, Tripp can’t argue with that. Hair and clothing mussed, they untangle their limbs from each other and haul themselves back to sitting positions. Tripp’s box has snapped closed at some point, so Leander opens it again as Tripp watches, peering inside before tossing his head back and laughing.