[The idea of people, just generally people, looking at him like this doesn't altogether bother him, he finds. He's never been one to put a lot of stock in what people think of him; people can fuck off with their opinions and keep them to themselves.
But then he starts thinking about specific people. Not just nameless faces, but ones he knows. What if Avdol saw him walking around like this, leashed up like a dog? What if Jill saw it? What about that girl, Constance? What if Trevor Belmont saw him paraded around like Adrian's pet?
What if Jolyne saw him? What then?
His face goes hot in an instant, burning beneath his skin, and he tries to take stock of the tempest of emotions those thoughts have stirred up in him. People, general, he doesn't seem to mind so much. It's when it turns to specifics, to recognizable faces, that his stomach starts to twist.
Adrian's not going to do something he doesn't want, he reminds himself, but he's the only one who has any idea of what he does and doesn't want right now, and even then, he's still learning as he goes.
Okay, so. The collar, he likes. The leash is a little humiliating, but the kind of humiliating that makes him shiver. The thought of people, generally, seeing him is...squirming, but not quite bad. The idea of people, specific people, seeing him is nauseating.
So. Okay. Okay...what comes next, then?
Next, he decides after a moment, he wants to see what happens when he pushes back. What will Adrian do if he forces his hand? He wants to play this game and lose, doesn't he? Then he's got to do something to lose at, to begin with.
So he draws a slow breath, and he does get up off the couch, but he stands and doesn't kneel, and looks Adrian in the eyes.]
Make me.
[It's a challenge on its face, but underneath it's an invitation. Permission. He hopes Adrian will recognize it for both.]
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But then he starts thinking about specific people. Not just nameless faces, but ones he knows. What if Avdol saw him walking around like this, leashed up like a dog? What if Jill saw it? What about that girl, Constance? What if Trevor Belmont saw him paraded around like Adrian's pet?
What if Jolyne saw him? What then?
His face goes hot in an instant, burning beneath his skin, and he tries to take stock of the tempest of emotions those thoughts have stirred up in him. People, general, he doesn't seem to mind so much. It's when it turns to specifics, to recognizable faces, that his stomach starts to twist.
Adrian's not going to do something he doesn't want, he reminds himself, but he's the only one who has any idea of what he does and doesn't want right now, and even then, he's still learning as he goes.
Okay, so. The collar, he likes. The leash is a little humiliating, but the kind of humiliating that makes him shiver. The thought of people, generally, seeing him is...squirming, but not quite bad. The idea of people, specific people, seeing him is nauseating.
So. Okay. Okay...what comes next, then?
Next, he decides after a moment, he wants to see what happens when he pushes back. What will Adrian do if he forces his hand? He wants to play this game and lose, doesn't he? Then he's got to do something to lose at, to begin with.
So he draws a slow breath, and he does get up off the couch, but he stands and doesn't kneel, and looks Adrian in the eyes.]
Make me.
[It's a challenge on its face, but underneath it's an invitation. Permission. He hopes Adrian will recognize it for both.]