Chapter 26
JASPER’S RESOLVE not to go to the funeral held out clear until the morning of, when the guilt finally won.
It’d been as horrible as he’d imagined it would be, and he left before the service concluded, grateful beyond belief that Vincent was there since he wouldn’t have been able to get away fast enough if he’d had to rely on Amber.
She hadn’t mentioned anything about the fact he hadn’t been home the past week, and the guilt about imposing on Vincent was getting worse every day.
It didn’t come close to overriding the anger and loathing he now felt for Amber, though.
He wasn’t sure he could ever trust her enough to live there again, but he couldn’t barge into Vincent’s life.
Their vacation had been amazing, but even he knew that wasn’t a reasonable excuse to move in together.
Not like he had many options. He certainly couldn’t afford an apartment, even if he wanted one, not with his last year about to start.
If he was lucky he could save up enough to get his license and pay for his exams by next year, have a steady job by the one after that, but getting a car and his own place to live were completely beyond him at the moment.
Maybe Vincent would cosign a lease for him? That sounded like the best plan, if he could only afford the rent. No point in Vincent helping if he’d end up paying for two homes.
He was saved from his existential crisis by Vincent calling for him from downstairs. He rolled off the bed where he was most definitely wallowing and found Vincent at the dining table with some packages. “Yeah?”
Vincent stood behind a chair and motioned for Jasper to sit in it. “I have some things for you.”
“Oh?” He sat and stared at the large thick envelope and smaller rectangular box.
“The pictures Ash took came in.”
And just like that, Jasper knew his face was crimson. “I don’t need to see them.”
Vincent snorted and mussed Jasper’s hair with one hand as he picked up the envelope with the other. “I’d like to put at least one of these in the main room of the club. You can pick which one. Or I’ll keep them to my office if you prefer.”
“You can’t be serious,” he whispered. Even if Vincent had said before that’s what he wanted, Jasper hadn’t quite believed he’d go through with it.
He watched as Vincent opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of professionally developed pictures.
“Oh,” he breathed, startled by the one on top.
It was him and Vincent, staring at each other, obviously about to or just finished kissing.
The soft light made Vincent’s eyes even more golden.
The colors had obviously been edited. He didn’t remember the trees being so green, or the streaks of early morning sunlight being so clearly defined through the leaves, but it was beautiful.
“That one’s going in my office,” Vincent said.
Jasper tilted his head to eye Vincent. He had a feeling if he didn’t mark any of them as an Absolutely Do Not Put This Up, they’d all end up on the wall somewhere.
Vincent left him to decide as he started on lunch.
Jasper watched long enough to know he was making sandwiches before turning back to the pictures.
The black-and-white ones were stunning, cropped in a way that cut off their faces to provide anonymity. If he hadn’t known he was looking at himself, he wouldn’t have thought twice about seeing them hanging in the club. The more he thought about it the more he warmed to the idea.
Vincent basically wanted to put him on display. A year ago he would have balked at the idea, but now…? If Vincent wanted to publicly claim him, he was okay with that.
“Any of these that don’t show my face are fine,” he said quietly, his attention lingering on the color one of him and Vincent, eyes locked on each other.
He remembered the moment. It was hard to forget when he’d been tied to a tree and about to be blindfolded and posed for photos while mostly naked.
He was sure it’d been a moment, even without trying to read too much into their expressions.
“Yeah?” Vincent asked, glancing over with an eyebrow raised in surprise.
Jasper shrugged. “Unless someone sees me standing shirtless beside them they won’t be able to tell it’s me, right?”
“Probably.”
He nodded and carefully slid the pictures back into the envelope, then poked the other package. “Can I open this?”
Vincent hummed and turned away from the sandwiches. “Yes,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel on his way over. Jasper expected him to say something else, but he only stood beside the table and waited.
His stomach did a weird little flip-flop.
He pulled the box closer and got it open, then stared at the black links for a moment as he worked out what it was.
“Is this….” He picked it up, running his fingers over the smooth twists of metal.
It wasn’t anything like the collars he saw every weekend at the club, but surely Vincent wouldn’t give him a necklace without some kind of meaning behind it.
Vincent shifted beside the table and cleared his throat. “It’s a day collar.”
Jasper finally looked up. “Day collar?”
“Most of the collars you see are specifically for scenes. This,” he said, reaching out to touch the collar, “is meant to be worn all the time.”
“All the time?” Heat clenched in his stomach, and he sucked in a ragged breath. “You’re really collaring me?”
Vincent stepped closer, lifting his hand from the collar to tangle in Jasper’s hair.
“Yes,” he said with a low growl that didn’t ease the clenching heat in the least. A soft whine built in Jasper’s throat and escaped when Vincent tightened his fingers and tugged.
“You’re mine, Jas. If having a collar around your neck all day every day as proof of that helps convince you I’m not letting you go, all the better. ”
This couldn’t be real. Barely six months ago he’d been single and brokenhearted, needing something he could barely name.
“You can officially move in, if you want.”
Then he met Vincent, had an amazing night learning exactly what he’d been missing, and started down the path that lead to this moment of Vincent laying a real and tangible claim on him.
“Are you going to say something?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “Please.” He lifted the box in a wordless request for Vincent to put the collar on him.
Vincent straightened and picked up the collar. The clasp wasn’t the usual hook but one that screwed together. It was heavier than Jasper expected when it settled around his neck, the metal cool against his skin.
He hooked two fingers over the chain and felt something release inside him as the metal warmed.
Once the collar was fastened, Vincent straightened and hooked his own finger in the black and silver rings dangling over the hollow of Jasper’s throat. “It looks good,” he murmured, giving an experimental tug.
The bolt of hot pleasure was expected, but it still coaxed a moan out of Jasper. The thought of Vincent always having an easy way to drag him closer was as thrilling as it was worrying.
He dropped his hands to his lap and tipped his head back. “All yours, Master Vincent,” he said and was rewarded with a slow kiss that left him breathless and unable to think of anything but how utterly lucky he was. What more could he possibly ask for?