Page 30 of Fire & Ice

That, at least, he can fix. That, he can take care of and control. In fact, Tripp plans to exercise said control to the fullest extent.

In his pocket, his phone is finally silent.

Chapter 4

Leander is unsettled. From the moment Tripp stepped out of the playroom, it was obvious that something wasoff.The change was woven into the way that Tripp carried himself, how he avoided any real eye contact, and the way his answers to questions were short and stiff. It bled from the extra work he poured into trying to appear casual, like his actions were nothing but normal and fine. In and of itself, the way Leander’s garbage-disposal of a friend completely ignored asandwichwas an undeniable, massive red flag.

Having been around this block many, many times before, it all screamed loudly, pointing towards exactly one thing—a thing that normally, Leander would rush to correct. He wouldneverlet a sub leave his sight or his presence until he wassurebeyond measure that they were not experiencing some form of drop.

With Tripp, though, things are complicated. There are lines in the sand, there are boundaries he has to respect and refrain from crossing, for both of their sakes. And Trippcanbe moody. Leander’s been on the receiving end of an unearned tongue-lashing from the man more than once, so he certainly knows that’s true.

Tripp also has moments where he withdraws into himself, where thelastthing he wants is for other people toseehim, to know that he’s feeling weak or vulnerable. It’s a nuanced situation, an extremely fine line to walk when mixing existing friendship with domination and submission, and Leander only wants to be cautious.

So he hesitates, in a way that he normally never would, never has before when engaging with a submissive. In the end, his play comes down to the way Tripp softens after he pulls onhis boots, the manner in which he accepts the house key and pulls Leander into a hug that’s obviously not for Tripp’s own benefit but forhis. He seems more like himself in that moment, and Leander’s worries lessen significantly.

If Trippwasdropping, surely he wouldn’t have bothered with such things? Or even beencapableof them? No, in Leander’s experience, this is very much a Tripp who is just beingTripp,difficult as that may be for him to personally understand. At the end of the day, Leander is not Tripp’s person. He’s not his partner or boyfriend, and he can’t expect the man to lean on him that way—or even as a friend—if that’s not what Tripp decides that he wants.

This morning, Leander had been overcome with joy and affection for his sub, sparked when he popped into the playroom and saw him sleeping with the collar on. At the time, he only intended to slip quietly in and out, to gather the used equipment and take it to the kitchen for cleaning, just something productive to occupy his hands while sleep eluded his mind.

But seeing Tripp lying there, so beautiful and absent of any stress or worry on his face, justknowingthat he chose to fall asleep still marked asLeander’s—it was an offering too alluring to pass up. Tripp’s collar was permission to touch, an outward sign that Tripp was happy with him as a Dom, that hecontinuedto be pleased with what they were doing, and that he wanted more. It thrilled Leander to see, and he truly couldn’t resist the urge to try and show Tripp how much. The kissing and nuzzling at the leather—that was Leander wishing terribly for the words to explain just how much it meant to him that Tripp kept it on.

The collaristheir line in the sand, and as much as its presence on his neck is a green light, likewise, it being off is a hard limit. Tripp came out of the playroom this afternoon withhis signal light on ‘red’, and that’s a boundary Leander needed to respect.

Which is why he let him go.

It weighs on him, though, after the fact. Enough that Leander is distracted away from going through the motions of cleaning and putting the playroom back together, of restocking the mini-fridge and changing the sheets that still smell like Tripp—not that he stops to shove his face into the wadded up bundle in his arms, because that would be truly pathetic.

Enough that he strips the bed and gets lost on the way to the washer, winding up listlessly slumped on the living room couch, soiled linen piled up next to him, bereft. Without ever really considering why he’s called to do so (or if it’s even a good idea), Leander scrolls his phone contacts for a particular name and selects “Send Message”.

Before he can lose his nerve (or think better of his life choices), Leander fires off a text message and then waits, impatiently tossing his phone from hand to hand. Perhaps this last-ditch effort to cope won’t even reply, or she’ll rightfully tell him to fuck off, or she’ll be busy, or—

Ding.

Autumn:Sure thing, Simba. Meet me at our favorite place in an hour?

The breath Leander sucks in while reading that message is shaky, haggard. He feels worn to the bone and has absolutely no idea why. Thelastthing he wants to do tonight is dress, leave his home, and interact with other people like a normal, functioning human being. The thought alone has Leander feeling exhausted.Still, he forces himself to reply in the affirmative to Autumn's message and to drag himself up off of the couch. After all, he’s the one who contacted her, and he’s certainly done enough yanking her chain—no pun intended—for one lifetime.

As the water for his shower heats up, Leander contemplates the screen of his phone some more, ultimately shooting a text message over to Tripp before getting in. While he understands that Tripp wants his space and probably isn’t keen on hearing from him so soon, Leander isn’t taking any chances with his evening plans.

The fact is, the emergency services community is small, gossipy, and incestuous. Someone seeing him and Autumn together again in public wouldrip-whisper through the grapevine, eventually filtering its way back to Tripp. By that time, the story would be distorted and dangerous. There’s nothing to hide here, so Leander should act accordingly and get ahead of it.

Unfortunately, his texting skills leave something to be desired, and Leander’s roundabout way of trying to start a casual conversation with Tripp goes completely unaddressed. Either Tripp isn’t paying attention to his notifications, or he’s not impressed. As the bathroom becomes increasingly steamy, Leander shucks his clothing and stands in front of the mirror, naked and frowning at the string of one-sided messages filling his screen.

Frustrated, he sets the phone down and glances up, blue eyes meeting their reflections in the mirror. He looks even more tired and sad than he feels.

Leander allows his gaze to drift, scanning the length of his own body and noting with some disappointment that there isn’t a single bruise or scratch mark on him. No indentations from Tripp’s teeth or fingernails, no physical sign ofanythingthat happened, some token Leander could look at and relish knowing that it was the equivalent of body graffiti proclaiming:Tripp was here.

Almost incidentally, that thought drags his focus back to Tripp himself. Scrutinizing his own unmarked skin, Leander abruptly recalls the line of bruises marking the side of Tripp’s neck from what wasperhapsanoverzealous reaction to discovering that his collar was left on overnight. In turn, he’s reminded of the exchange he had with Beau earlier, shared when the younger Truett texted about tuxedo fittings and bachelor party plans. It was a conversation Leander was wholly intending on relaying to Tripp over lunch so that he’d be aware.

He forgot, plain and simple. Tripp left and Leander was thrown off-kilter, and it fully slipped his mind.Damn, damn, damn.

Hurriedly, Leander snatches up his phone and taps out yet another message in the thread. He details what, exactly, he shared with Beau, and encourages Tripp to keep the bruises hidden with a shirt. Nothing to do after that but pray that his warning comes in time for them to synchronize stories, though a quick glance at the time suggests that he’s probably too late. All he can hope is that Tripp isn’t too pissed, and that his conversation with Beau didn’t inadvertently out their situation to Tripp’s brother (andone of Leander’s best friends).

This whole situation is a lesson in tightrope-walking, that’s for sure.

When Trippstilldoesn’t reply, Leander gives up on trying to be either socially savvy or diplomatic, explaining plainly over the course of several additional texts about his plans with Autumn. The two of them hanging out shouldn’t bother Tripp, anyway, since they’ve hadseveralvery frank conversations about her, stretching all the way back to when she was stillLeander’s sub. Tripp certainly knows that their relationship is long dead and buried, with no chance of resurrection in this lifetime.

In that same vein, Leander feelssurethat Tripp couldn’t possibly be suffering any delusions that there might be something left between him and Autumn besides friendship—and a tentative one at that—not after the way things ended, and moreso, the reasonwhy. He’s probably overthinking this, but better safe than sorry.

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