The box is matte black as and softly textured so it rasps under Quell’s fingertips.
It’s tied up with a wide, neat bow in a honey-yellow colour. Quell slides it gently off the box instead of tugging it loose, unwilling to ruin something attached to a gift Silvi’s giving him.
It’s a collar. A sweet purple of plain, unadorned leather with a bell dangling from the front.
Quell runs his fingers over the inside and tugs it. It bends nicely under the pressure, not nearly as stiff as he’d expected. Soft, too, like the back of the leather had been treated to make it gentle against one’s skin. He taps the bell once, so lightly it doesn’t even ring, just sways. Again, he taps his finger against it. The tone is higher than the size of the bell would suggest. It’s sweet and lingering, even as quiet as the first sound had been.
Quell pulls it out of the box and holds it to his chest, his other hand reaching for Silvi’s where it sits on his leg.
“This isn’t me pushing to put it on now,” Silvi says, “but I thought you should have it. So it’s here and it’s yours, whenever you’re comfortable.”
“I think tonight would be good.” Quell can’t even bother being embarrassed about how quickly he responds, the warble in his voice. It’s his collar, because Silvi bought it for him, because Silvi loves him. “I want to. Please.”
“Okay, if you’re comfortable with that, then we can. We’ll take care of your collar first, before we get into things. I want to go over the rest of the plan, too, before we move on, so we’re on the same page.”
Silvi does, though it takes only a minute with how simply they’ve agreed to start.
“Good,” Quell agrees when he’s finished. “Exactly what I’d like.”
“And if it isn’t, at any point? If you’re a little uncomfortable?”
“Yellow and we’ll talk it through until you’re certain I’m alright to continue or we decide to stop.”
“If you don’t like something and we need to end it?”
“Red, everything’s undone and out of sight. then we figure out what to do from there.”
“If it’s an emergency?”
“Peaches if I can manage, or tell you no or stop or something to that effect if I can't manage.
Rescue cutter on the table, cut instead of untie, phone plugged in, screen set to always-on so we don’t need to unlock it, ready to call help if it’s urgent and we need assistance.”
Silvi cradles Quell’s hand in both of his own, Quell still clutching his collar too tight with his other to properly hold Silvi’s. “If this goes well and everything works out, great. If we do need to stop, and we never come back to this again, then it’s alright. I’ll still love you the same as I did this morning, and the same as I’ll love you tomorrow morning. We’ll be fine, regardless of the outcome.”
“I know. I love you, too, no matter what.”
Silvi kisses the back of his hand and lets him go. “Alright. Ready?”
Quell takes a deep breath and nods.
“Come here.”
He half expects Silvi to guide him to the floor, have him kneel the way all the articles he read had mentioned. Instead, he’s turned around and settled between Silvi’s legs so they’re facing the same way.
Silvi gathers Quell’s hair with gentle fingers, taking his time and pausing to scratch and pet, until he can twist it into a tidy little bun at the crown of his head and tie it off with the band he keeps around his wrist. Silvi slides an arm around to Quell’s front to rest against the hollow of his throat, just above where he holds the collar in a white-knuckle grip.
