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The Marked party was... weird. It'd seemed like a fun idea at the time to show up in the costume he did, and though he'd earned a weird look from the bouncer his explanation of the joke had still gotten him in. Drake knew about the collar beforehand, too, because old habits die hard and he still reads everything he can of what happens on the network. Maybe that's creepy, in a place like this? Either way he'd seen the mention of the collar Jesus' boss gave him and guessed at what it probably meant. At the time, it didn't seem like a big deal.

Even now, Drake wouldn't say it bothered him. But there was definitely some sort of awkward feeling last night, watching the other man working the bar with the strip of leather around his neck. The looks between Jesus and Vrenille, the touches, the obvious intimacy that he knew existed and didn't actually mind... that had still made him leave the party quietly when Jesus wasn't looking his way.

He tried not to think about it too much last night. It was probably just that he's never actually watched a partner mess around with anyone else, when he wasn't also involved? Or maybe the voyeurism aspect was what he'd been vaguely uncomfortable with, since it didn't feel like jealousy either. Whatever. It doesn't matter, and he's not planning to ever bring it up.

The next morning he's a little hung over and a little unsettled, so he takes Sable on a long run along the beach. In this weather very few people stray down there, even LIERs, and it's a harder workout than the park trails. They've just gotten back when he hears a knock at the door, which is... unexpected. It's pretty early? Drake's brow furrows, but he finishes scooping Sable's breakfast and puts the bowl down for her, then goes to open the door. He hasn't showered yet, still in his workout gear and flushed from both the cold and exercise. And he looks very surprised to see Jesus standing there.

"...hey. You okay?"

"Yeah." Drake looks tired, and Jesus wonders how long he's been awake. At least he wasn't sleeping when he knocked. "Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you."

Probably Drake will want a shower, but Jesus is still so used to people being sweaty and dirty--to having no access to running water--and all he's thinking about is what he needs to say.

Well that's hardly a breath away from a 'we need to talk' now isn't it? After knocking instead of using his key? Drake's concern intensifies, his expression turning wary as he nods and steps back so Jesus can come inside.

"What's going on?" he asks, raking his windblown hair back from his face and feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious about his current state.

He smiles, softening--or trying to--the tension he's brought in.

"I looked for you at the party." He tips his head, studying Drake, brow furrowed in worry. "I mean I saw you at the party. But I never got to see you at the party."

"Oh. Is that-- it was really busy, after I said hello. And you were working."

That's not a lie, the party had been hopping (the bunny theme making that even more appropriate) and Jesus was kept very busy behind the bar. Drake hadn't seen anybody else he knew there, so was just hanging out waiting for the other man to get a break that may or may not have happened... watching him with his boss. It felt weird.

He shifts his weight, then heads back into the kitchen to get himself some water.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you'd worry, it just turned out to not be my scene."

"You didn't say good-bye." Which sticks out. "Look, Drake," he follows after him and leans on the counter. "Vrenille pointed out that the collar we play with might bother people. And I don't care about that except when it bothers people I care about."

Drake fills a glass and takes a drink, quiet for a moment. Then he turns back towards Jesus and tilts his head curiously.

"Why would it bother me?"

"I don't know." But he has no defensiveness about it. "But it seems like something did bother you at the party. Talk to me?"

"That's putting it too strongly," he tells Jesus reluctantly, "but I was kinda hoping you'd have ideas. 'Cuz I don't. I just know I didn't like watching it."

He nods to himself, takes a seat. "You see people flirting all the time here. I was planning to spend my break flirting with you, there, in public."

Which is still a fairly large step for him.

"What did you feel?"

They're actually going to have this conversation right now, huh? Drake sets his glass down with a sigh, scrubbing his other hand over his face.

"Uncomfortable? Like it was something I shouldn't have been watching. I didn't belong there."

"I wanted you there. At the party, if not...there to watch." He leans an elbow on the counter, rests his head on his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it would bother you. I'm having trouble understanding why it did, though."

"I know you did, and I knew about the collar. I didn't think it would bother me either, so... that makes two of us." He's tamping down the frustration because it's at himself, but his tension is still obvious. "It's not a problem, Jesus. What you do with your other partners doesn't affect me so long as you're safe."

"It does, though." He gestures slightly at Drake. "If it didn't, I would've been dancing with you during my break. I've never done this before. Had multiple men I actually saw regularly, even if none of us are really 'together'. I'm still figuring it out. But I can't do that without understanding how you feel."

"We're all figuring this out as we go, aren't we? I swear if I understood what I felt last night, I'd explain it to you." He crosses his arms defensively, catches himself at it, and drops them to grip the counter edge behind him.

What he's feeling right now might wind up a bigger problem, in any case. The little bit of self preservation he has is telling him not to ask this question... but he does anyway.

"...what do you mean none of us are together? You let a guy put you in a collar and grope you in front of everybody, and you're not together?"

"We're friends." Not just friends, he's always hated that saying, that it implies friendship is something to be dismissed. Friendship has saved Jesus's life in very real ways; lovers have only left him hollowed out.

"We're close friends. But I'm not his boyfriend. Would it help if I explained the collar?"

For the first time since they met, Drake is looking at Jesus like he doesn't understand what the other man is saying at all. Close friends who fuck around but aren't boyfriends, he gets. But the labels don't really mean anything at the end of the day -- the collar around Jesus' neck, the way he was willing to act around his friend and everyone else last night, that's what Drake feels stuck on. And he doesn't know why.

"...explain if you want. But I can't promise it'll help. And it really doesn't matter if I'm not into watching you guys, does it?"

They're not together either, after all. Certainly not that together. And then something twists in the pit of his stomach, as it clicks.

Fuck.

"I don't plan to put you in a position where you'd have to watch," he says, and starts to draw a breath to try to put all of it into words. It's a concept that felt so simple at the start and in the span of a month has turned out not to be.

But he sees something in Drake's expression change so he stops. "What is it?"

Drake just shakes his head, knuckles turning white as he grips the counter.

"I don't wanna talk about this," he tells Jesus, voice strained. "I'm sorry I left, okay? It doesn't matter."

He licks his lips, finds he's on his feet. "Drake, it's not about you leaving, it's about whatever it is that I did that made you feel like you had to go. I'm trying to figure this all out so I can be better, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."

"You didn't do anything. You're not the one who needs to be better--" Drake cuts himself off, jaw working. That came out too sharp. Too emotional, too invested, and that'll only drive Jesus away.

He couldn't handle that.

Taking a slow breath to steady himself, he lets go of the counter. Folds his arms loosely across his middle, less defensive now and more just... unhappy. Jesus wants to know why he was uncomfortable? Well, he's not going to like it.

"Maybe I just didn't like the reminder. A collar, a dom handling you like that in front of everyone? You wouldn't like that if it was me. It'd make things too real. I'm not jealous, I don't want a claim on you, especially not publicly. But I don't want to feel like we've signed ourselves into a corner either. In case you ever--" No. Jesus won't want that. Drake shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

As if he keeps repeating it, that'll make it true.

"Drake, I was set to be with you during my break. I was going to be with you, in public-" A helpless sort of shake of his head. He would have been every bit as physical with Drake as he was with Vrenille.

"The collar is Vrenille's, it's something I do just with him. That doesn't mean there aren't things I do just with you, too." And this is true, but saying it feels like trying to justify something and he doesn't like it. "You being my dom doesn't change how I am with you."

"I believe you," he says tiredly, "but you wanted to know what I felt, so I'm trying to figure that out."

"And I'm trying to help. I just want to understand. I don't want to hurt you, Drake," and he gets the sense that he is.

"You're not," Drake says instinctively, even though as he does he realizes how ridiculous that sounds when he's obviously upset. Okay, rephrasing. "Nothing about last night did. I just didn't like it, and that's a me problem that I don't understand myself yet to be able to explain it to you. Why are you pushing so hard on this?"

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