∞∞∞
Landen
The question was not a surprise. He'd been waiting for it, dreading it, if he was honest, ever since the first time his hands touched Adriel.
He looked at him now, knees pulled to his chest, eyes too bright, and felt something crack open in his chest. The awareness that whatever he said next would determine whether Adriel stayed or ran, and that both outcomes felt equally possible.
He moved. Sat on the carpet so that he was looking up at Adriel rather than down. It was instinct; the Dom in him understanding that Adriel needed to feel like he had the higher ground right now, needed to not feel cornered or talked down to. Adriel blinked at the gesture, confused, and the confusion on his face made Landen's chest ache.
"Adriel," Landen said, voice low. "Look at me."
Adriel did. Reluctantly. His eyes were guarded, already bracing for the confirmation of everything he feared.
Landen told him the truth. Plainly, without softening it into something easier to hear.
He told him that what Adriel had noticed was part of something larger. He told him it was calleddominance and submission, and that he had been part of that world for a long time. That he was a Dom; that this wasn't a preference or a phase but afundamental part of how he connected with people intimately. He told him about the lifestyle; not in exhaustive detail, but enough. The structure of it. The trust required.
He watched Adriel's face as he spoke; reading micro-expressions, tracking the shifts in breathing, the tension in his hands, the way his jaw tightened and released. He could see the information landing in stages: recognition first, then unease, then the rapid calculation happening behind Adriel's eyes.
He told him about his past partners. He didn't minimize it and he didn't romanticize it. They were experienced. They knew the rules. They could meet him in that space without hesitation. He was honest about what it gave him; control, connection, pleasure.
And then he told Adriel what none of it gave him.
"I was going through the motions," Landen said. "For a long time before I met you, I was performing. Every scene was technically right and emotionally hollow. I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't feel it anymore. The wanting was gone."
He paused, choosing the next words with care, because they mattered more than anything he had said in a long time.
"You brought it back. Not because you know the rules or you are experienced; because you aren't. But because everything with you is real. It's not going through the motions to reach some goal. It's you. That is worth more to me than every scene I've ever done with anyone else combined."
Adriel's breath hitched. He shook his head, and Landen felt something sharp move through him, half anger, half grief.
"Won’t you miss it?" Adriel said, voice cracking. "The things they can give you. The things I can't… I don't even know what I'mdoing, Landen. I didn't even know what it was called until you just told me. You have this whole...world, this whole part of yourself, and I'm just… I'm stumbling around in the dark hoping I don't disappoint you."
His voice broke on the last word. He pressed his hand against his mouth, and Landen could see the tears starting, could see the humiliation Adriel felt at crying in front of him, at being this exposed.
"Eventually, you're going to want someone who knows what they're doing," Adriel whispered. "Someone who can actually be what you need. And I'm going to be the thing you settled for while you waited."
"Stop." Landen's voice was gentle but firm. He reached up and took Adriel's hand. "The only thing I need is you. Everything else is negotiable.Everything. We go at your pace. We do only what feels right to you. If that's nothing beyond what we already have, then that is more than enough. If you want to explore, we explore together, slowly, and you have a voice in every single part of it. You say stop, we stop. You say slow down, we slow down. You say no, we don't. That's it. That's the only rule that matters."
Adriel was crying. Quietly, tears spilling before he could stop them, his free hand pressing against his mouth as if he could hold it in.
"I'm scared," Adriel whispered.
"I know," Landen said. "That's okay."
A long pause. Adriel's fingers tightened around Landen's.
"I want to try," Adriel said finally. "I don't want to lose this because I was too afraid."
Landen lifted Adriel's hand and pressed his lips to the knuckles.
"You're not going to lose me," he said. "Not over this. Not over anything."
Adriel was still crying when the silence settled. Small, hitching breaths, tears tracking down his cheeks, his hand still gripping Landen's like an anchor.
He looked wrung out; the conversation had cost him everything, and Landen could see it in the tremor of his shoulders, the tight set of his jaw, the way his body had curled inward as if trying to make itself smaller.
Landen knew this place. He'd seen subs hit emotional walls before; the drop that came, the overwhelm of having said too much, felt too much, exposed too much. He knew what Adriel needed right now wasn't more words. Words were what got them here. Words were what Adriel was drowning in.