Page 48 of Fire & Ice

At the last second, when Leander is tensing up behind him and moaning as he starts to come, he grabs Tripp’s newly-marked arm and squeezes. The action brings a new rush of tears to Tripp’s eyes and causes him to cry out with yetanotherconflicting wave of pain and pleasure as Lee's cock rams repeatedly into his prostate at the same time. Valiantly, Tripp’s dick twitches between his legs, blurting another round of cum onto the sheets, and he’s never been more regretful that the refractory period is a thing that exists.

Behind him, Leander slumps forward, one giant hand coming to rest between Tripp’s shoulder blades as he struggles to catch his breath and presumably, his bearings. When he slides free from Tripp’s ass, he pauses, and almost as an afterthought, fumbles around in the sheets for the plug and shoves it back in, which—damn.Tripp’s dick also attempts to take an interest in that (incredibly hot, deliciously possessive) move, too—holy hell—and the idea that Lee's spend can’t leak out.

No dice.

When Leander turns him over again, he’s gentle, and the look on his face is slightly anxious and concerned. “Hello, Tripp,” he says softly as Tripp blinks up at him, desperately hoping Lee doesn’t want totalkabout this, because words are not a thing that’s possible for him right this second. Hoping to ward that off, Tripp does the only thing that he can think of, which is to flash Leander the biggest grin he can muster, and along with it, shoot him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Surprised, Leander chuckles and pats his flank. “You still have to drink your juice,” he says. “And I need to tend to your injuries.”

Tripp nods while stifling a yawn, accepting Lee's assistance to sit up against a stack of pillows enough to drink the juice without dumping it all over his face. He uses his right arm to do so, since Lee is busy examining his left, dabbing iodine from the first-aid kit in a strangely specific pattern. His motions pique Tripp’s curiosity, despite the exhaustion he feels and the impending hormone crash that is about to vehemently insist he nap by simply turning out the lights.

“Can I see it?” he asks gruffly, tipping his chin in the direction of his bicep, which Leander is currently obscuring with a piece of blood-riddled gauze.

“Of course,” he answers. “Though, I will warn you, as far as scarification is concerned, I’m not sure this one will take. I used a very light hand, and honestly, I believe these marks will heal without leaving any reminders behind.”

The way Leander looks at Tripp when he says that makes him abjectly wary of what he’s about to find on his arm, but when Leander lifts the gauze, Tripp can’t help but draw in a sharp breath.Holy hell is right.

It’s a tracing of Leander’s hand, the outline of where his fingers were wrapped around Tripp’s bicep. The fresh cuts are thin and angry, most of them still oozing tiny droplets of blood. The skin around the actual wounds is reddened and irritated, striking in its unapologetic rawness. It’s an incredible sight, and the residual burn-throb Tripp feels makes his chest a little tight, makes his mind spin with how much helikesit. Tripp can hardlybelievehow much he likes it.

Lee's handprint, cut into his skin. It better not fuckin’ fade.

“I hope it does scar,” Tripp says, eyes still glued to the way the marks look marring his skin. It’s beautiful in its own right, and Tripp can’t believe that he thinks that. “Otherwise, you’ll have to do it over again.” He winks as Leander glances up at him in surprise, a smile spreading across his face and—if Tripp isn’t mistaken—a slight blush. He’s so stunning and perfect, fucked-out and exhausted himself, and Trippso badlywants to keep him.

He shifts his gaze down to his arm. At least now, he’ll get to keep a part of him.

Another yawn from Tripp breaks their reverent moment, and Leander quickly resumes what he was doing before Tripp’s request. He spreads antibiotic cream meticulously over the cuts he made, and bandages Tripp up with expert hands that have done this so many times before, both in and out of the bedroom. Fuck, but Tripp’snevergoing to be able to look at Lee in the back of an ambulance the same way again.

“Thank you, Lee,” Tripp murmurs, only after Leander has shut off the lights and slid back into bed with him, gathering him up and holding him close, careful not to press down on his arm. “Not only for…what we just did. But for not judging me, not treating me like shit for being into some weird stuff. Forfeeling like I need it. I just—I know some people would think that me liking what we just did is really fucked up.”

“I am not ‘some people’,” Leander interjects fiercely. “You are aware of who I am and where you are…?”

“Shh, ugh. I’m trying to—” Tripp wiggles around at Lee's side in a mix of annoyance and frustration, glad that it’s dark and Leander can’t see his glaring face.

“I understand. Go on,” Lee says, and Tripp doubts it, so he sighs.

“Yellow—hear me out. Dom Mode off, just for a minute, opposite of this morning with the collar?”

“Alright,” Leander agrees.

For a moment, Tripp struggles with both what to say and how to phrase it so as not to come offtooobvious or pathetic.

“You’re a good friend, Lee,” Tripp settles on. “You’re, you know. You’re my person.” It’s a monumental effort just to eke that out, so Tripp manages to forgive himself for not doing better, for not sayingmore.Anyhow, Lee seems to get the gist, as the arm he has wrapped around Tripp’s body tightens, and he drops his face into Tripp’s hair.

“Thank you,” he mutters, suspiciously heavy in tone and barely audible. “I needed to hear that tonight.”

“Cool,” Tripp says, going for casual and pretending to stifle a yawn when he says, “Dom Mode on, then.”

Neither of them speaks again as they both drift off, but Tripp feels Leander relax beneath him in a way that he usually only does after he’s sunk into a very deep sleep. It’s all so strangely comforting, so starkly contrasted with the way they played and got each other off earlier, and Tripp—if he’s beinghonest, and when didthatbecome a theme in his own mind?—has never been happier in his entire life.

Nothing has changed between them, and yet, for some reason, Tripp feels a spark of hope about the future that he’s never let himself consider before.

And he hangs on.

Chapter 6

For the next few months, as far as Leander is concerned, life is pretty damn perfect. Having a regular, reliable outlet in the bed(play)room for any frustrations and failings goes a long way towards stabilizing his emotions, and it shows. Having a sub who needs him, who Leander can pour his heart and soul into caring for and watch as Tripp benefits from all the things they do together, makes him feel like a whole new person.

His nightmares let up, his overall mood improves, and the number of times he sinks into a melancholy funk over memories and situations that were out of his control drops significantly.

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