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.
"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?"
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."
"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?"
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."
Drake waits, just watching Jesus for a moment. Expecting another question. When it doesn't come and the other man's expression stays troubled, he huffs softly and tugs on his hand.
"Babe I said ease up, not shut down. Help me figure it out... why does me not liking it bother you, even though I'm not mad?"
Jesus wouldn't have come up here first thing in the morning if it that was all there was to it. It seems like they both need to dig a little here.
"I guess... It's just taken me a long time to get to where I'd do anything like that in public. I had boyfriends but I was always so careful with them. I could never let on that I liked boys when I was growing up. The times I got caught out meant violence, you know?" He looks down at their hands.
"I like that I can be all the way out here. I like that I can make out with my boss if I want to. I like that I have men I can care about, care deeply about, and that none of you try to own me. I hate the thought of hurting any of you because I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
"...you're not doing anything wrong," Drake says firmly. That wasn't his life back home, but their worlds were similar enough culturally that he understands. For all its flaws, Duplicity society is freeing in some ways -- this is one of them.
Unfortunately that response doesn't solve anything either, so Drake puzzles through it for another moment. What specifically bothered him. It was the collar, he's figured that much out. But why?
Maybe if he just. Starts talking, they can sort it out.
"I don't want you to feel like you've gotta be careful how you are with other guys around me. I don't wanna ever make you think you have to hide part of yourself. It's... just a sign, right? Like the game's on when you're wearing it for him?" Another pause after the confirmation, Drake's brow furrowing as he thinks. "Maybe I just got in my head about it, after talking to K about all this? How things look. How I can't -- shouldn't -- ever do anything that could look like I own you, because that's not true and the contract makes those games more complicated. But I saw you and fell into the same trap of thinking it was what it looked like. It's not rational, I just..."
Ah, fuck it.
"Are you? Happy, signed with me? I know it hasn't been easy."
"First of all," he turns slightly to face him. "It's been easier than you think. You've give through a lot. That hasn't made you hard to be with. I'm happy with you." Maybe it's needed to be said. Maybe more than once.
"Second, yeah, that's what the collar is. It's the start of the game. It lets him know I want to play with him. We have different rules every time."
The reassurance that Jesus wants to be here goes a lot farther than the reassurance that the collar isn't what it looks like, which makes sense to Drake since he knew that logically already. He doesn't need to know the details because it's not for him, and honestly he doesn't want the way they play with dominance to involve a collar. That's too close to the city's concept of ownership for his taste.
"If that ever changes, you tell me. Don't resign again because you're worried, it'll hurt a lot more if you stay when you don't want to and I figure out you're unhappy later. You mean a lot more to me than contracts or quota, got it?"
"Okay," Drake agrees, just as easily. He doubts that'd ever be the case but neither of them are psychic -- it could be, someday. And as difficult as it that type of boundary is for him, he's been able to set it before. So he nods and replies softly, "I promise."
The silence that falls as that settles isn't uncomfortable, but it's not entirely peaceful either. Drake exhales and squeezes Jesus' hand, not sure the conversation's done yet.
"I will be." He's not happy that a discomfort he was planning to write off turned into such a stressful thing for Jesus, though, and hearing I always worry doesn't do much to help that. "What do you mean always?"
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"...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.
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But he sees something in Drake's expression change so he stops. "What is it?"
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"I don't wanna talk about this," he tells Jesus, voice strained. "I'm sorry I left, okay? It doesn't matter."
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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.
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"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."
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"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."
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"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."
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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."
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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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"Babe I said ease up, not shut down. Help me figure it out... why does me not liking it bother you, even though I'm not mad?"
Jesus wouldn't have come up here first thing in the morning if it that was all there was to it. It seems like they both need to dig a little here.
Cw homophobia, abuse
"I like that I can be all the way out here. I like that I can make out with my boss if I want to. I like that I have men I can care about, care deeply about, and that none of you try to own me. I hate the thought of hurting any of you because I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Re: Cw homophobia, abuse
Unfortunately that response doesn't solve anything either, so Drake puzzles through it for another moment. What specifically bothered him. It was the collar, he's figured that much out. But why?
Maybe if he just. Starts talking, they can sort it out.
"I don't want you to feel like you've gotta be careful how you are with other guys around me. I don't wanna ever make you think you have to hide part of yourself. It's... just a sign, right? Like the game's on when you're wearing it for him?" Another pause after the confirmation, Drake's brow furrowing as he thinks. "Maybe I just got in my head about it, after talking to K about all this? How things look. How I can't -- shouldn't -- ever do anything that could look like I own you, because that's not true and the contract makes those games more complicated. But I saw you and fell into the same trap of thinking it was what it looked like. It's not rational, I just..."
Ah, fuck it.
"Are you? Happy, signed with me? I know it hasn't been easy."
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"Second, yeah, that's what the collar is. It's the start of the game. It lets him know I want to play with him. We have different rules every time."
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"Can you promise me something?"
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"What is it?"
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"And if I'm ever too much... Don't resign with me just to give me a contract. Okay?"
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The silence that falls as that settles isn't uncomfortable, but it's not entirely peaceful either. Drake exhales and squeezes Jesus' hand, not sure the conversation's done yet.
"Are you still worried?"
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