Page 84 of Fire & Ice

ButGod,Leander prays he isn’t wrong. He’ll bend to Tripp’s wishes, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep the piecemeal parts of Tripp that he’s allowed to share, but—it would be crushing. Thefirsttime he’s truly felt romantic love, to have it rejected and scorned—well, that possibility is not something Leander is able to look at too closely, not while Tripp is in kissing distance, anyway. It’s a devastating concept.

So Leander justhopes,hopessobadly that Tripp wants his love as much as he wants to give it.

This certainly feels like love. The way they move so easily around each other while cooking in the kitchen, the way Tripp thinks nothing of invading Leander’s space as he pushes eggs around in a frying pan. The way Leander’s coffee is made exactly to his liking and kept filled until they settle down together, and the way Tripp kneels at Leander’s feet without him even asking.

Hand-feeding Trippcouldbe sexual and certainly has been in the past, but today, it feels different. Tripp holds Leander’s eye contact, lingers while licking and sucking the food from his fingers, but the air between them is charged in a way that has nothing to do with simple arousal andgetting off.

As Tripp settles against Leander’s thigh and between his legs, Leander keeps a hand in his hair while he’s there. Several times, he nearly sticks fingers into his coffee, all for his inability to look away. It’s worth it, though—itfeelsworth it. This feels like love blossoming between them, as much as Leander has any clue, anyguessas to how ‘Love’ with a capital ‘L’ is supposed to feel.

Tripp is so unlike his usual self, or perhaps Leander has that backward. MaybethisTripp is the true Tripp, the one who’s been granted permission to shed his tough facade and be the soft, gentle boy that lives inside of him. The part of Tripp that’s usually deemed weak and sequestered away where no one is allowed to see, set free. He’s so quick to takecareof Leander, looks so entirelyhappyto be tasked with mundane chores and routine activities that Leander himself would usually loathe doing on his own.

Today, it all feels like some kind of magic.

Chores done, bellies full, and kitchen cleaned, they settled on the couch together to tackle the entirety of theStar Warsfranchise.That was several hours ago by this point, after Tripp fussed excessively about the importance of watching the moviesin a particular order. They have been, technically, but all Leander has to show for that is the hope that Tripp never asks for an in-depth analysis of his thoughts, because he’s barely glanced up at the screen.

In fact, he’s been so taken with the way Tripp looks and feels in his arms that he truly can’t conjure even one good reason why heshouldwatch anything else. The miraculous rise and fall of Tripp’s chest is all the entertainment Leander thinks he could ever need.

Plus, they’resnuggling.Over Tripp’s bare stomach, their right hands are twisted together, and the blanket Leander keeps on the back of the couch is draped lazily over Tripp’s hips and his own legs just below that. When Tripp hums in quiet satisfaction, Leander resumes petting his hair from where his free arm has fallen away in distraction.

Absently, Tripp shifts and reaches out from under the blankets towards his phone, which is sitting next to them on the coffee table. He presses the home button and groans when the screen lights up.

“Gotta take off soon,” he says softly, the reluctance clear in his voice, and privately, Leander savors it.

“I know,” he replies, unable to resist pressing a soft kiss just behind Tripp’s ear.

“Hmm,” is the only response, save for Tripp wiggling some against Leander’s chest and groin, which makes him smile.

“Don’t start,” he warns. “We do not have the time.”

“I didn’t start shit,” Tripp retorts, and he’s not exactly wrong, there. “But you’re right. Hey, lucky you—get to lay around doing nothing for another hour at least before it’s time to get moving. You’re already home.”

Just barely, Leander resists the urge to tell Tripp that he could be home, too, if that’s what he wanted.

Not the time.

When Tripp leans forward and stands with a luxurious stretch that highlights every carved muscle in his back and shoulders, Leander can hardly enjoy it. Apparently, he’ll be playing the role of “petulant brat” in their relationship today.

Tripp should spankhim.

Not the time!

As he pouts and Tripp wanders about gathering his things, Leander tries half-heartedly to identify the plot of the movie that’s still playing, but it’s too far in, and he’s irredeemably lost. Instead, he watches as Tripp reverently replaces his collar in its box before dipping over to Leander’s bedroom, emerging wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that fit him like sin.

Somewhat belatedly, Leander realizes that he must have made some sort of face at the sight, because Tripp grins, flashing the smile that means he’s truly amused, the one where he presses the tip of his tongue just behind his teeth.

Someone stab me in the heart, it would be less painful, Leander thinks.

Wednesday cannot come soon enough. And yet—

“Hey,” Tripp says off-handedly as he’s pulling on his boots, snapping his fingers like he’s just recalled an important thought. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?Something you wanted to talk about? I could swear we got interrupted last night, but I’ll admit,” he pauses to tap his temple, “It’s all kinda fuzzy.” He straightens up, and suddenly, his expression becomes weirdly intense.

Leander fidgets. Almost everything in him is screaming to justtell Tripphow he feels, andsomethingabout Tripp’s faux-casual-bullshit is setting off alarms in Leander’s head. On the other hand, every worrisome thought from earlier comes flooding back, along with the hauntingly frightening possibility that Trippdoesn’tlove him the way he loves Tripp.

Thatsends Leander’s anxiety flaring, has him clutching nervously at the blanket in his lap, has him scared. Scared enough that he freezes and can’t doanythingbut default back to his previously-made plans to test the waters surrounding this in a way that ensures Tripp has an out. An out that might be the difference between preserving what theydohave, or losing it completely.

LosingTrippcompletely. That, Leander cannotrisk.

He swallows heavily and tries to look innocent, blinking back at Tripp with wide eyes and shaking his head. “No idea,” he lies. “I’m sure I did, at some point, but…I also had too much to drink.” Leander licks his dry lips and watches Tripp’s face carefully. To the casual observer, it would appear that Tripp has virtually no reaction, but Leander knows him so much better than that. The light in his eyes dims slightly, and his smile becomes just alittletight.

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