Page 80 of Fire & Ice

Except—screwpatience when it comes to early morning cuddles. Leander’s not a saint, after all.

Fed up with waiting for Tripp to return, he kicks off the covers, wincing at the stiffness in the movement of the linen and making a mental note to change the sheets once Tripp departs. At the bathroom door, he raps but doesn’t wait for a reply before pushing it open—if Tripp truly wanted privacy, he would have closed it. Besides, he’s cursing up a storm on the other side, and Leander doesn’t want to give Tripp the opportunity to deprive him of finding out why.

It takes Leander a minute for his eyes to adjust to the comparatively bright light of the bathroom, and he blinks against the discomfort. When Tripp comes into focus, he’s naked and scowling back at him via the mirror above the vanity. Leander tips his head to the side, momentarily confused but then abruptly understanding when Tripp’s fist opens above the sink in front of him and releases a flutter of tiny wax pieces. They drift down like snow and stick in the basin.

Upon more careful inspection, Leander notes all the many tiny reddened marks littering the front of Tripp’s body. They’re not burns, just minor irritation from where the leftover wax has adhered to the tiny, fine hairs on Tripp’s skin. Leander suppresses a smirk and plasters himself (in whathefeels is a cleverly ironic fashion) to his friend’s back, wrapping arms around his middle and tucking his chin over Tripp’s shoulder.

“You’re being very dramatic about all this,” he scolds good-naturedly. “My tough, strong, pain-loving submissive, moaning and groaning over a bit of wax that’smeantfor this very purpose.” Leander tsks and shakes his head slightly, taking the opportunity to nose at Tripp’s ear. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

In his arms, Tripp softens, and no matter how many times Leander watches his demeanor change in that fashion, itnevergets old. What a profound effect they have on each other, he and Tripp. In ways that no one else can, Leander is able to make Trippsoft,pliable, subservient. And Tripp—Tripp can make himlove.

Tripp clears his throat, and Leander recognizes the gesture, the hesitation—Tripp has something to say, there’s something that he wants. So he waits, and lets Tripp work it from his brain down to his tongue.

“Sir,” he starts, andoh, yes, this is promising.“I know that you had plans for a scene this morning, with the—the feeding, and riding me, and, uh—don’t get me wrong, okay? That sounds fuckin’ awesome.”

“Mmm,” Leander agrees when Tripp pauses, tipping his head down to kiss at his neck, an idle distraction that will hopefully assist Tripp in admitting to whatever it is he’s working towards. “But?”

Huffing a small laugh, Tripp reaches behind them both to grab Leander’s ass and bring their bodies together flush. The way he does it has Leander’s semi-hard cock nudgingjustbetween his cheeks, not enough to brush his hole. Seemingly in direct response, Tripp releases a disgruntled sound, leaning forward against the vanity to present his ass more effectively.

“Hello,” Leander says, surprised, but not displeased in the least.

“Get up in there,” Tripp grunts, prompting Leander to glare disapprovingly at him in the mirror. “Don’t worry, I cleaned up again. Justfeel,okay?” His elbows are on the marble countertop and he’s looking over his shoulder expectantly.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Leander obliges, brushing two fingers firmly over Tripp’s hole and understanding immediately what he’s getting at. Despite being dry, Tripp’s rim is soft and gives easily, though Leander doesn’t press inside, just touches gently. Clearly embarrassed, Tripp ducks his head, but not before Leander can catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks.

“Are you worried, or—?”

“No,” Tripp replies quickly,tooquickly, andah—that isn’t all he was trying to say.Interesting.Leander waits, his index finger still lazily circling Tripp’s rim, while Tripp takes a deep breath and then lets it out.

“I’ve been thinking,” he continues, finally, “about…doublepenetrationinonehole.” He says the last part so quickly, like it’s all one word, and Leander struggles not to crack a smile. The phrasing, of course, is lifted directly from their kinks negotiation list, where Tripp rated his interest inthisparticular activity an unenthusiastic “maybe.”

One of the least compelling selections possible, aside from “No,” it’s a significant reason as to why Leander hasnot ventured to test-run that particular kink just yet. That, combined with the fact that each Wednesday when they review their lists, Tripp never waivers in his answer to that section—he hasn’t exactly been flashing green lights. Until now, that is.

“I’m stretched thefuckout from last night,” Tripp explains bluntly, rubbing at the back of his neck, which, like his cheeks, has turned a rosy shade of pink. “I dunno what you did back there, but I’m pretty sure I could shove a baseball up my ass if I wanted to right now. Atleasta tennis ball.”

“What a sight that would be,” Leander replies, struggling and failing miserably at not picturing Tripp as one of those machines firing balls in cages for people to practice hitting. It’s incredibly unfortunate that this is a sensitive subject and he can’t share. Tripp would undoubtedly get a kick out of that joke made at anyone else’s expense. Somehow, Leander doesn’t think he’ll feel the same when the punchline is his own ass.

“So?” Tripp prompts, breaking Leander out of his ridiculous reverie, only to see him hesitate.

If Tripp had been a ‘hard no’ previously, Leander wouldn’t even consider diving in like this, but he knows Tripp pretty well these days. It seems likely to him that Tripp’s ‘maybe’ response was rooted in both fear of the unknown and anticipation, perhaps a few other things that aren’t quite as important as those. The bottom line leaves Leander fairly certain that Tripp was never disinterested, exactly—just perhaps not ready.

Not to mention, there’s no reason for Tripp to go out of his waynowto ask for something he isn’t completely sure that he wants. Something he clearly finds embarrassing to admit aloud, at that.

Other issues aside, Leander needs to reward Tripp for using his words, for communicating his desires so effectively theway that he has. Leander’s proud and wants him to know that, wants to give him the world in return. On the other hand, he also takes alotof pleasure in teasing Tripp, so.

Without first replying, Leander pulls one of Tripp’s cheeks to the side before taking his own steadily-filling cock in hand. He rubs the smooth crown of it against Tripp’s hole, leaving wetness behind and Tripp gasping, still bent over the counter next to the sink.

“Eager,” Leander remarks offhandedly, right before letting go of Tripp completely, stepping to the side, and grabbing his toothbrush from its holder.

“So tell me,” he says casually, squeezing some toothpaste onto his brush like he and Tripp are discussing nothing more controversial than the weather. Meanwhile, Tripp gapes up at him in disbelief. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“Sir, please,” Tripp groans, turning his face into his forearms so Leander can’t watch it flush as he scrubs away at his teeth, creating a foamy mess that drips into the sink. Mouth occupied, he doesn’t bother to dignify Tripp’s complaint with a response, just continues about his business and waits. Tripp will answer, he always does.

From beside him, there’s a long-suffering sigh. “Fuck me,” Tripp tells the countertop. “With your dick. And a fake dick. At the same time. Please. Sir.”

Leander spits into the sink and rinses out the basin, filling a Dixie cup with some water. “Any fake dick? We have that Jeff Stryker model—” Before he can even finish that sentence, Tripp’s head shoots up with alarm in his eyes. At least, until they meet Leander’s and subsequently narrow.

“I cannot believe you’re fucking with me right now! That issonot cool, dude—Sir.” Tripp flinches a little, clearly preparedfor Leander to punish him for the slip, but Leander just laughs. In fairness, Tripp’s not wrong, that was somewhat cruel. The Stryker dildo is…true to size. Leander finishes rinsing his mouth, replaces the toothbrush, and tosses the little paper cup into the trash before slipping an arm under Tripp’s and helping him stand, pulling him in tight to his body.

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