“Guilt isn’t logical, baby,” Briana chimed in sympathetically, reaching out to rub Beau's arm. “You need to talk to him.”
Leander held up a finger. “If you’re open to it, I have another idea,” he suggested, and unsurprisingly, Beau and Bri were all ears as Leander filled them in.
In the end, Leander is reasonably certain that Beau was glad to be let off the hook, no matter what he claimed. Both in regards to being Tripp’s caretaker, and for the responsibility of breaking the news about moving out (at least, with no safety net in place). Instead, while Beau and Bri were calculatedly unreachable on their flight to Aruba, Leander approached Trippfirstwith a request of his own. One that he wasverycareful to frame clearly and accurately, and to not make sound like he was only offering because of the circumstances—even if Tripp only knew about half of them at the time.
“Will you move in with me?” put the ball inTripp’scourt, and by the time he spoke to Beau the next morning, Tripp was practically glowing about it. Which meant that when Beau casually dropped his bomb in regards to moving, Tripp had already decided he didn’t give two shits becausehewas too.
In the interest of full disclosure and honest communication, later that night, Leander did cop to knowing about Beau's plans, emphasizing that they weren’t relevant—he’d already been anticipating asking Tripp to move in before they ever came up. Considering that his story had the benefit of actually being true, added to the fact that—at this point in their hospital stay—Leander waswaytoo worn out to lie convincingly, Tripp believed him.
In true Tripp fashion, though, hedidhold his forgiveness temporarily at bay—only agreeing to trade it for a blowjob, value to be cashed in at some point in the not-too-distant future.
That joke is on Tripp, though, as he never negotiated “to completion,” a card which Leander intends to play to his full advantage just as soon as the opportunity arises.
With their immediate future settled, Leander had contacted EMS Chief Maxwell and gone on official leave from work, which strangely, the Chief didn’t even question. It wasalmost like Maxwell expected him to do so, as if he already believed that Leander and Tripp were togetherandserious about it.
Leander chalksthatup to his love declaration over the radio, as surely that moment had not remained sacred between himself and Tripp. A private channel only indicates that the band is for side communications, not that others can’t listen in. With the way the emergency services community thrives on drama, Leander is sure that plenty of his co-workers were treating their crisis like some kind of reality soap.
Lifestyles of the Sexually Deviant and Emotionally Constipated, coming soon to a radio wave near you.
Thankfully, Leander is a workaholic whose social pursuits have essentially always been limited to BDSM and beekeeping, one of which he’s never actually translated from copious research into any sort of practical effort. Therefore, the majority of his sick and vacation PTO have simply been accumulating. The department’s administrative end took care of rolling his benefits over from year to year, at least until he hit the max hours allowed to bank. As Maxwell told it, Leander could finagle up to six full months of paid leave, if he chose to do so.
Not necessary,Leander told him. Tripp’s doctors predicted that he would have the casts off in six to eight weeks, and after that, it would be physical therapy’s job to decide when he might be ready to return to work. Thatcouldtake several additional months, yes, but Tripp won’t be bedridden any longer, not by that point. He won’t need Leander to sit at home and tend to him twenty-four-seven.
Actually, Leander felt fairly certain in his belief that by then, it would be good for him and Tripp to have some scheduled time apart. To be working their way back into a regular routine.
…Orperhaps the idea of coming home from work to Tripp waiting for him was justfartoo tempting to dismiss outright.
Still, time off sorted and discharge location decided, there was plenty more to negotiate between the two of them, and not all of it went so smoothly. In fact, Tripp about blew a gasket when he discovered that Leander had been working on his ‘caregiver skills’the entire time Tripp was unconscious.
It hadn’t come up in casual conversation, so Leander hadn’t outright mentioned it, but Tripp’s assumptions about what his discharged life would look like required swift correction. Before that, Tripp was under the false impression that when he was finally sent home, a nurse would be thereallof the time—to take him to the toilet, to wash him in the shower, and generally, to help with everything else “humiliating” (his words) that came with being disabled and unable to care for oneself.
When Tripp found out that in actuality, the nurse would only be stopping by for an hour or so, two, maybe three times per week, he had been very confused. It was then that Leander helpfully pointed out thathewould be there, that he was more than capable of doing all of the things Tripp listed in the nurse’s stead, and in fact, that he had been doing much worse all along.
“You—youwhat?” Tripp had paled, face going slack in disbelief as the implications of what Leander was saying sunk in. “You can’t—Lee, you—pleasetell me this is one of your weird jokes that I don’t get. Tell me you’re not serious.”
Leander, for his part, didn’t understand what the big fuss was about. After all, he’s had his tongueinsideTripp’s ass. Cleaning him up while he wasunconsciousand gravely ill wasn’t something he even thought to blink at. In fact, if anyone was going to do it, it seemed only right for that person to be him.
In response to Tripp’s marked horror, Leander furrowed his brow and tipped his head to the side, confused. “Believe me, it was not at all funny seeing you so helpless. Caring for your needs made me feel useful, which was a rarity that week. But yes, I am serious. I’ve already been doing those things, and then some. It doesn’t bother me in the least.”
Releasing a strangled noise that made him sound more like a dying cat than a human being, Tripp clawed his pillow out from behind his head and smashed it over his face, though not before Leander witnessed his cheeks beginning to turn bright red.
“Never tell me,” Tripp said, into the pillow. “Lee, we havesex!Never, ever tell me.”
“Tripp, I don’t see you any differently, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Leander had reached out a hand to touch one of Tripp’s, but his freckled fingers immediately curled into a fist and buried their way into the bedding as Tripp moaned in apparent agony.
Leander tried his best to provide additional reassurance, but that didn’t go over well, either. “Many people, both men and women, watch their partners give birth to their children, which I can assure you is afarmore graphic and disturbing event, and they still—”
“Lee!”Tripp whipped the pillow away from his face, looking up at him incredulously. “Not helping.” He pushed his finger pointedly into Leander’s chest and narrowed his eyes. “And I swear to God, if you finish that comparison, I will live to make you regret it.”
Putting his hands in the air, Leander sank into the depths of the comfy chair, smart enough to know when to quit. As they both sat there in silence, the air between them remained stiltedand awkward. Steadily avoiding eye contact, Tripp pretended to watch aKing of Queensrerun that Leander knew for a fact he’d seen twice already that week. Central Hospital’s media catalog truly left something to be desired.
To his own credit, Leander tolerated that atmosphere for over an hour before he broke. Genuinely upset that Tripp feltsouncomfortable over whathefelt was simply theleasthe could do for the person he loved, Leander opted to try and explain his feelings one more time. For this round, though, he took a different approach.
“When we…” He paused to clear his throat, waiting as Tripp reluctantly tore his eyes away from the TV. “Before, on the day—well, you know. Earlier, at my home, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”
Clearly surprised and probably slightly confused at Leander’s shift in tack, Tripp just blinked back at him for an extended moment before nodding slowly. “‘Course,” he replied, somewhat guarded, clearly harboring the suspicion that Leander was notactuallychanging the subject. Fair enough, he wasn’t.
“You came out of the bedroom with your collar on. You...wemaintained our roles in a purely non-sexual manner.”