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"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?"

"Because I'm tired of people pushing my concerns under the rug." K had done it. Drake is doing it.

Congratulations, Jesus. That's pretty much the only way to phrase it that Drake won't try to dismiss or fix entirely for someone else's sake. He goes still, blinking in surprise as it processes... then something in him seems to crumple even though he's still standing.

"Okay. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," he hesitates, before pushing off the counter and crossing out of the kitchen area entirely. "Come sit with me? I need you to ease up because I'm not hiding anything, I just don't know, but you can help me figure it out."

He doesn't want to hurt Jesus either, which is hopefully obvious at this point, and he can tell that he is. So it's time to do like he promised: if something isn't working they get on the same page and figure it out. Drake drops onto the couch and waits for Jesus to join him, too wound up in the issue now to care about his disheveled state. It doesn't matter; this does.

"What were you worried about, when you realized I left? Specifically."

He waits until Drake is settled and then sits beside him, radiating a type of wary energy he hasn't felt in a dozen years or so.

"I thought..." He sighs, tries again. "When I realized you left without saying anything I thought you were angry with me. I thought you saw me with Vrenille and thought I'm not happy being with you."

Oh. Drake's expression softens instantly, even though there's still some wariness twisting in his stomach -- there's that word again. Happy. Is he, really? With anyone? Jesus has made it pretty clear that he doesn't want to be with anyone, that it's more of a barrier to his happiness than anything. But he's using it now.

One thing at a time.

"I wasn't angry. I'm not." He reaches over and takes one of Jesus' hands just to ground them both, hold gentle but warm. "And I didn't think you looked happier. It's not a contest, your friends should make you happy. Nobody can be everything for anybody, right? That's nuts. I just thought 'this isn't for me' and didn't want to see it."

"Okay." It's not a satisfying answer. It doesn't answer everything. Doesn't answer the things that bother Jesus about all of this.

But it's the only answer Drake is giving him, and Drake asked him to ease off. It's not the first time he's had to just live with it.

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