Lost and Found 3

Chapter 3

Sheldon was the first downstairs as usual after Trent and Mace left to open the shop. It wasn’t that Sheldon liked early mornings, but he had to take the train into Boston and be at his desk by nine. He would rather have slept until nine, but Milton had a dim view of tardiness, and Sheldon’s backside usually preferred to avoid the consequences. At least being first, he had the best of what Trent and Mace were offering for breakfast. Today they’d outdone themselves on account of the unexpected guests. Usually as the week wound down, they were serving a continental breakfast, but today there were scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. 

Sheldon had just poured himself a glass of juice when he heard hesitant footsteps on the stairs. “Morning, Cotton, did you sleep well?”

“I guess,” Cotton said, not lifting his eyes from the stair treads. 

“Come on. I was just getting myself some breakfast. Do you want some?”

“Just coffee. I don’t eat much breakfast.”

“Does Brad let you get away with that?”

Cotton looked up, startled, his pale blue eyes anxious. “Do they control what you eat?”

“Do you mean the tops?” Sheldon said with a wide smile. “Don’t all tops? Milton’s not too anal about it as long as I make some attempt to eat real food. Living on potato chips and vending machine cheese and crackers gets him hot under the collar. But it’s easy here; Trent and Mace are great cooks, and for a top Trent’s real accommodating of everyone’s tastes. Mace made biscuits this morning. You don’t want to miss them; they’re prize winning.”

Cotton nodded and took a plate, still with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, and put one biscuit and a teaspoon of eggs on it.

“Is that all you’re having?” Sheldon asked.

“It’s too early.”

“Well, hurry up and finish before Milton comes down. That way I can tell him you had biscuits and eggs. He doesn’t need to know it was a micro portion of eggs.”

Cotton didn’t say anything but stared at the table and the hard wooden chairs surrounding it.

“Eat at the counter. It’s the right height for standing. That’s what I do if I’ve had a rough evening. No one will say anything here; it’s pretty normal, especially for me. I’m a trouble magnet.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Cotton asked, still staring at the table with dismay.

“Do I like to get walloped? Sheldon shrugged. “It can have its pleasures, but sometimes it just fucking hurts. Milton’s not as fearsome as he seems at first. He’s a pretty great guy to live with,” Sheldon said with a grin.

“I must be going soft,” Milton said from the doorway, “if you’re describing me as not too fearsome. Trent and Mace cooked for us. That was nice of them. Usually by Thursday we’re on muffins and cereal.” Milton poured himself a cup of coffee and piled a plate high with eggs and bacon. “I think Trent has a secret contract with the local cardiologist.”

“Your cholesterol is always perfect. It was all those eggs and whole milk as a boy,” Sheldon said.

“Cream,” Milton said with a smile. “We had cream on our cereal.” Milton looked over at Cotton’s sparse plate. “Is that all you’re having?”

“I’m not hungry,” Cotton replied, poking at his eggs with his fork.

“Hmm,” Milton said softly, one eyebrow rising into his hair line. “We have cereal and fruit if you prefer?”

Sheldon could see Cotton struggling to reply. He imagined that Cotton was debating trying to hide in the woodwork or answering belligerently. Milton’s words had been spoken gently, but it was clear that not eating wasn’t going to pass muster.

“I’m not hungry,” Cotton repeated. He wasn’t successful in keeping the whine out of his voice.

Sheldon watched, fascinated as Milton calmly rose from the table, walked over to Cotton, and wrapped his arms around the slight frame, tucking Cotton tightly against Milton’s chest. He’d seen Milton adopt this aura of calm several times before, most notably when the neighbor lady’s cat had managed to become entrapped in the dryer vent. Two firemen were looking perplexed, holding massive tin snips while Milton calmly went into the basement and dismantled the dryer vent giving the cat an easy escape route. 

“Do you want me to get Brad?” Milton asked, his voice pitched for quiet conversation in a library.

“No, he hates me now,” Cotton muttered.

Sheldon started to move into the dining room to give Cotton some privacy when Milton shook his head and mouthed, “No, stay,” over Cotton’s head. Sheldon nodded and returned to his eggs.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Milton asked in the same quiet tone.

“No,” Cotton said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just want to be left alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sheldon has a lot of experience with these type of things. Would you like to talk to him?”

“I’m not nearly as scary as the tops,” Sheldon said with a big grin. “I know all about how you feel. Hell, Milton dusted my fanny last night in front of Mike.” Sheldon shot Milton a murderous look.

“You deserved it, my boy. It sounds like I should’ve done it harder.”

Sheldon listened and watched Milton banter with him, filling in his side of the conversation as needed. He could tell Milton’s attention was focused on Cotton, and the conversation with Sheldon was an attempt to relax the young man. Milton indicated with a nod of his head that Sheldon should bring Milton’s plate over to the counter. Milton scraped part of his eggs, added a slice of bacon, and buttered the biscuit before sliding Cotton’s plate in front of him.

“Eat, boy.” Milton kept one hand firmly around Cotton’s waist while eating his own breakfast with the other hand.

Cotton stared at the plate as if he’d forgotten what to do with the silverware.

Sheldon caught Milton’s eye and smiled as Milton rolled his eyes and grimaced. Sheldon mouthed, “Baby brat.” 

Milton shot his boy a wicked glare, and Sheldon knew he was getting close to stepping over the line. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath and busied himself with the remains of breakfast. Sheldon was shoveling the last of his eggs in his mouth when Brad came down the stairs. He was wearing yesterday’s clothes and looked rumpled and tired.

“Brad,” Cotton cried and made a beeline for his partner.

Brad instinctively opened his arms and engulfed his partner, his hand stroking Cotton’s back. “Are you giving these gentlemen problems?”

Cotton buried himself deeper in Brad’s arms and said nothing.

Sheldon heard Milton sigh softly. Sheldon could imagine what Milton was thinking, stop babying the boy. He was spanked last night, not killed. Make everything normal, and he’ll adjust. Sheldon had heard that advice doled out to Trent and Tilden many times and lived the results of the same advice. Milton was always practical. Why wasn’t he telling Brad to get on with it? Feed the white-haired munchkin some breakfast and drag him off to work. “Cotton didn’t much care for our breakfast offerings,” Sheldon said aloud.

“He doesn’t much care for breakfast especially when he’s upset,” Brad said, tightening his arms around his boy. 

Sheldon looked at Milton, expecting him to jump in with a comment about starting the day with a healthy breakfast; instead Milton quietly ate his eggs. “This is bullshit!” Sheldon spat. “You’d never let me get away with not eating even if you’d caned me the night before.”

“Corner now,” Milton ordered, already moving toward Sheldon. “And how often do I cane you, boy?” Milton’s voice hit a warning note that sent Sheldon scrambling for the corner, but not fast enough to avoid a swat and Milton’s hot breath on the back of Sheldon’s neck. “Put your hands on your head. I expect better manners from you.”

“You’d be all over me if I didn’t eat breakfast especially if I were someone’s guest.”

“Do you talk in the corner?” Milton’s voice was ominous.

Sheldon swallowed hard and tried to get hold of his temper. “No, sir.” He didn’t want to go to work with red, swollen eyes—especially now with the TV show. Everybody at the office would  know; he’d never be able to hide behind the excuse of allergies again.

Sheldon heard Milton move back to the table and the sound of drawers being opened and plates being moved. Sheldon tried to peer around his shoulder to see the clock; he needed to leave for work in five to ten minutes. 

“Turn back around,” Milton barked.

Sheldon turned back and stared at the wall. He was the one in trouble, and it was Cotton who should be in trouble. That kid had moped around all morning like his world had fallen in, and everybody had let him. What happened to the cheerful obedience that Milton insisted on?

Sheldon was still stewing over Cotton when Milton tapped Sheldon on the shoulder. “Turn around. You need to get to work.” Milton grasped Sheldon’s shoulders and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “I love you, boy. Behave. Now run, or you’ll miss the train. Your raincoat and umbrella are in the laundry room; get them before you go.”

Sheldon grabbed his suit coat from the back of the chair and took off, glad that Milton hadn’t insisted on talking about his outburst. Sheldon didn’t want to be late or worse, kept home from work, and secondly he was still angry at his partner’s sudden obtuseness. Milton had to see that Cotton needed a firm hand; Milton was an experienced top, after all.

Sheldon’s coat and umbrella were hanging neatly in the laundry room, not the wet mess he’d tossed down on a kitchen chair last night. The tool box was sitting on top of the dryer. That must have been Mace; he’d said something last night about a drippy faucet. Sheldon reached to put the tools away, slipping the wire cutters in his pocket. Mace had probably hung up his jacket and umbrella last night, keeping Sheldon out of trouble with Milton. Putting the tools up would return the favor. 

The sky was gunmetal gray, and Sheldon could almost see the dampness in the air, another beautiful Massachusetts late fall days. Brad’s car was parked on the far side of the garage. Sheldon glanced back over his shoulder; it wouldn’t be visible from the kitchen windows. Brad had left in unlocked. It took Sheldon a split second to pop the hood and snip a few wires. Even if Milton was listening for him to drive out, a delay wouldn’t be noticeable.

****

Tilden still had a damp towel around his neck. He entered the kitchen just in time to hear the outer door bang shut. “Isn’t Sheldon cutting it close?”

Milton glanced at his watch. “He’ll make it as long as he doesn’t stop for more coffee. We were having a small discussion this morning.”

Tilden nodded and raised an eyebrow, knowing full well what Milton meant.

“I think we need to be on our way,” Brad said, getting up and moving his dishes to the sink as he snagged his partner and headed for the door.

“Why don’t you take some biscuits for the drive? Cotton might be hungry later, and Mace made enough for half the town.”

Tilden looked over at the young man leaning against Brad as they left the kitchen. Both Cotton and Brad looked uncomfortable this morning as if they felt overwhelmed in the presence of two tops. Cotton was always pale, and perhaps Brad’s mind was already on morning surgeries or the birds he’d left at home. Tilden put their guests out of his mind as Luke and Mike came stomping into the kitchen. After yesterday, they were both still out of sorts. Luke was on the edge of tears at the slightest hint of criticism, and Mike was banging and crashing like a rampaging bull.

“Good morning, boys. Don’t I get a hello?” Milton said when Mike slapped a plate down on the table.

“Morning,” Mike grunted.

Luke said nothing and went to stand by Tilden, who wrapped an arm around his  partner’s shoulders.

“Dobroe utro, Luka. Tell Milton hello,” Tilden continued in Russian.

“Dobroe utro,” Luke mumbled.

Milton nodded and smiled.

 Ti khochesh’ zavtrakat’?” Tilden continued.

Luke responded to the simple familiarity of the Russian sentences and started a short conversation with Tilden about breakfast foods. Tilden spooned some eggs onto two plates and pulled Luke down on his lap with the food within easy reach. Mike sat at the opposite end of the table, sloshing his coffee out of his mug and scattering eggs around the plate. 

Milton ran a hand down Mike’s back. “Is there something you want to talk about before you get yourself in trouble?”

“No, can’t I be in a bad mood in peace?” Mike grumped.

“Yes, but do it a little quieter. You’re disturbing my good mood.”

Milton would have continued, but he was interrupted by Brad returning, dragging Cotton behind him. “I’m sorry to bother you, but my car won’t start, and I’m mechanically inept. I’m fine with pinning a tibia, but don’t ask me to tell a spark plug from a carburetor.”

“None of us is a car expert either. Let me get you the number for the garage,” Milton said, rising and heading towards the drawer where they kept the phonebooks. 

“Did he leave the lights on?” Mike snarled at Cotton.

“No, we checked. And what’s with you this morning? I’m sorry for standing in your precious kitchen,” Cotton snapped back at Mike.

“Enough,” Milton said with sufficient force to instantly silence the snarling men. Mike became fascinated by his eggs, and Cotton dove behind Brad.

“I’m sorry,” Brad apologized again. “We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we can.”

“Don’t worry,” Tilden said with a reassuring smile. “In this household we hardly notice an extra couple.” Mike made some sort of noise between a groan and a spluttered curse. “Would you like to finish your breakfast in the study?”

“No, sir,” Mike said, making an effort to sound contrite.

“Cotton, are you in college?” Milton asked in the conversational lull.

Cotton stared at his scuffed running shoes before he shook his head. “He’s working on his G.E.D.,” Brad answered for him.

“I have a plan,” Milton said, straddling a chair. “I’ll take Cotton, Luke, and Mike with me this morning. It might inspire Cotton to be more interested in academics. Tilden can stay here and help get your car taken care of. He doesn’t have a class till eleven.”

“Do you have everyone’s schedule memorized?” Tilden joked.

“Yes, you know me.”

Cotton looked anxious at the idea of being sent off alone with Milton and two near strangers, but Luke seemed thrilled with the idea, and Milton hustled and cajoled Cotton out the door ten minutes later without much effort.

Brad sank down on the kitchen chair and slumped over the table. “God, he does that easily. I feel like a total fraud.”

“It can’t be that bad; Cotton seems very attached to you,” Tilden said, sipping his tea. 

“I’m good at faking it. You get lots of practice as a vet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, half the time I don’t have a clue what’s wrong with people’s pets, but they don’t want to be told the diagnosis is open. Instead I take a guess, and most dogs and cats get better, sometimes in spite of me. My first year out of school I felt like a complete fraud. In school you see all the crazy stuff--a head tilt means a brain tumor, not an ear infection. You pretend to know routine medicine and hope nobody catches on that you keep running to the back to read the textbook. Unfortunately I don’t have a textbook for this whole charade.”

“Do you think you’re a failure at this, at being a top?” Tilden stood up, went to the samovar, and poured Brad a mug of tea.

Brad wrapped his hands around the mug as if drawing warmth from it, even though the kitchen wasn’t cold. He took a couple sips. “I’m not an overwhelming success at this. I have to chase my brat all over the east coast.”

“Lost brats are par for the course. I lost Mike and found him passed out from drink unconscious on the floor of a deserted home. And I have two other tops to watch my back.”

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up. But are you always this prying?”

Tilden could feel his cheeks color a light pink, and he gave Brad a twisted smile. “It comes from living with Milton. He’s about as subtle as a brick.”

Brad laughed and for a moment Tilden could see that Brad could probably be fun when he wasn’t worrying. “You can tell him that I did spank Cotton, even though I feel like shit about it today.”

“I thought you had. Cotton didn’t look like he much wanted to sit.”

“Milton and Sheldon knew instantly. Somehow it caused the two of them to get in a fight this morning.”

“Really,” Tilden said with surprise. “Sheldon’s an experienced—” Tilden hunted for the word. Milton used submissive or boy more than brat, but television show used the more comfortable brat. Somehow Tilden couldn’t think of submissive without conjuring up images that involved whips, chains, and ball gags. “Sheldon’s an experienced brat.” That was the safe choice of words; it mirrored the style of the television show. “He’s been spanked a lot and seen plenty of others spanked. What was bothering him?”

“He was fussing at Milton about my partner not eating. I think he wanted Milton to intervene.”

“Sheldon’s the only person that can make Milton look subtle. His advice is good, but his presentation is tactless.”

“He seems like a maniac. Sorry,” Brad quickly back pedaled. “I assume he’s your friend.”

“He is my friend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a maniac.” Tilden smiled. “The dynamics of this household are complicated. Don’t expect to learn them in twenty-four hours. I still don’t have a handle on it.”

“The ethnologists would love to get their hands on you guys. You’d probably destroy half their theories on human behavior.” 

“We’re not simple. No pack with a single clear alpha.”

“The pack behavior theory is hocus-pocus, based on junk science. Dog social groups are fluid and not based on strict family groups. All that alpha garbage just leads to abuse. When dogs misbehave it’s not because they’re challenging for control, it’s usually because they haven’t been temperament trained and are frightened. Physical force will escalate the problem. It’s easy to suppress certain behaviors with violence, but the problem will reappear with greater vengeance redirected at something else. People jerk the living daylights out of their dogs with pinch collars or worse zap them with electricity and wonder why they bite the child who puts his arms around their neck. What do they expect?” Brad ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, the pack theory stuff really gets my dander up.”

Tilden nodded. “Don’t be sorry. I think it’s fascinating. If I ever get a dog, I’ll call you for training tips. You’re feeling guilty about spanking Cotton.”

Brad blinked and buried himself in his tea.

“I’m taking lessons in subtlety from Milton and Sheldon. One thing you learn as a top is to listen around the conversation. Most brats won’t come out and tell you what’s wrong, but they’ll drop plenty of hints. You’re doing the same thing, aren’t you?”

Brad gave Tilden a rueful smile. “I feel totally outclassed here.”

“Don’t. I’ve lived in this environment for years. Milton’s not shy about keeping my head on straight.”

“He wanted you to talk to me this morning.”

“Yes, that’s why he took my partners and Cotton with him. I suspect he’s hoping Luke and Mike will talk to Cotton. I don’t know if they’ll get the hint or not. They’re still recovering from yesterday.”

“You look a little worse for the wear yourself.”

“Pretty, isn’t it? Hurts a bit too,” Tilden said, touching his face gingerly.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. 

“It must be the people from the garage,” Brad said, getting up.

“Don’t look so relieved. I don’t have to teach until eleven. There’s plenty of time to finish this conversation.”

“Your poor partners,” Brad groaned.

After Tilden drank a second cup of tea and Brad hadn’t returned, he pulled on a heavy sweater and went out on the drive. Maggie, the local mechanic, was bent over the engine making tsking noises.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Tilden said.

“It’s not. I need to replace a bunch of wires. They’ve been cut. You’re not fighting with your neighbors or anything, are you?”

“No, Maggie, we’re as peaceful as always.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe that,” she said, straightening up and wiping her hands on her coveralls. “I’ve met the other side of your family.”

Maggie’s family had owned the local garage for as long as Tilden had lived in West Banner. It had started out as her father’s business, but when he’d been disabled with worsening diabetes, she’d taken over. At first, there had been whispers among the more old-fashioned types questioning why her brothers weren’t operating the business, but these soon quieted when the cars were fixed on time and at a good price.

“I’ll have to tow it to the shop. I should have it back by closing.”

“Thanks, we appreciate it, and don’t worry about nefarious strangers cutting car wires. I think it was a joke that went too far.”

“Good, I’d hate to think we had some misplaced militia from Texas hiding out in our woods,” Maggie said with a wide smile.

Brad signed some paperwork, and Maggie loaded the car onto the flatbed truck. She gave them both a cheerful wave as she pulled out of the drive.

“What was he thinking?” Tilden muttered to himself as he returned to the house.

“Who thinking?” Brad said from one step behind Tilden.

“Do you have bionic ears? Another sign you’re cut out to be a top. Hearing what your partner thinks he kept under his breath. Sheldon, of course.”

“Sheldon?”

“Yes, the infamous Sheldon. I told you he wasn’t subtle. Milton’s not going to be happy.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Yes.” Tilden sighed. “If I don’t it will be far worse. Sheldon will crash around, causing more problems until Milton pries it out of him and be in more hot water.”

“Oh,” Brad said softly. “Poor Sheldon.”

Tilden snorted. “Poor Milton, more likely. Even for him, the big things are hard.”

“It’s not the end of the world.” Brad shrugged. “The office will cope.”

“It’ll be a big deal to Milton and also to Sheldon once he stops to think about it. It should be educational for you. You’ll get an up close and personal look on how an experienced top copes with a disaster.”

Tilden had poured more tea as they were talking and set the plate of biscuits on the table with strawberry jam and locally grown honey.

“Is food and tea your solution to everything?” Brad said, helping himself to another biscuit.

“Tea’s my thing. Trent does the food.”

“Chewing does alter stress and adrenaline levels. Changes the brain chemistry to a more relaxed state.”

“Good,” Tilden said with excessive cheer. “Maybe now you’ll tell me what went on when you spanked Cotton.”

“I thought you were the kinder, gentler model—not the whack them with a shovel until they tell all.”

Tilden laughed. “If Sheldon thought it was important enough to wreck your car, there’s no use being subtle.”

“I guess it went OK. He went over my knee easy enough—didn’t fight me—acted like he wanted it. But I feel terrible about it. I physically struck my lover.” Brad shuddered and took another sip of tea.

“Why did you audition for that crazy TV program if the idea bothered you?”

“I knew I was different,” Brad said softly. “My boyfriends accused me of being controlling, hurled insults about me being a top. I did it on a lark. I’d sworn off boyfriends for a year after my last disaster. I signed up thinking I’d never get picked, and I might learn more about this top/brat thing.”

“Sounds like my story,” Tilden said with a chuckle. “Sheldon and Mace signed me up, and I went along, thinking it would end before it even started. And look at me, I have two partners whom I adore. I could do without their parents.” Tilden fingered the bruise around his eye.

“I know how you feel. Cotton’s parents called me a bastard and hung up on me.”

“What about yours?”

“They pretend it’s not happening. They’re good at ignoring the obvious.”

“You know we’re here if you need us.” Tilden reached across the table and laid his hand over Brad’s wrist.

Brad flinched and jerked back.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a little comfort,” Tilden said with a hint of censure.

“I’m not a touchy-feely guy. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, but don’t be afraid of what you want. Cotton certainly wants you to touch him. I saw him last night.”

“I know,” Brad said sadly. “I think I’m failing him.”

“You’re not unless you permit yourself to give up when it scares you,” Tilden said with a sharpness he usually reserved for Sheldon on the rampage.

“I thought Milton was the only scary one here.”

“No,” Tilden said with a grin. “He taught me well.”

“I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You love Cotton, don’t you? You certainly showed up quick once Mace called you, and you looked genuinely distressed. You’re not a professional actor playing this role for the TV execs?”

“No, I am what I am, a vet who’s way over my head. It’s not like a case that’s not going right. I can’t just call the specialist.”

“You can call us.” Tilden took another sip of tea. “I know, I know, it’s awfully personal. With the arrangement we have here, we’re not shy.”

“I can tell,” Brad said with a self-effacing laugh.

“What exactly did Cotton do yesterday that led him to ending up at The Olde Curiosity Shop with no money?”

“So you know about him trying to steal lunch?”

“Yes, that kind of story moves quickly in this house.”

“He let two of my birds out in the aviary and panicked. He’s not supposed to handle the larger cockatoos because they can be dangerous. I gave him a goffin that we keep in the house, but he has a fascination with the palms. I don’t know why he ran up here, but Mace snagged him and called me. I think Mace picked up right away that he was a runaway brat.

“Cotton’s an obvious brat. Anyone familiar with the lifestyle can tell immediately.”

“Is Mace a brat?” Brad hesitated over the word.

“He doesn’t wear it on his sleeve like the rest of the submissive side of the household, but he can brat, not in the noisy, campy way of Sheldon, or at least not usually. Trent and Mace have a very quiet relationship, but Trent doesn’t mess around.”

“So—you’re not all like Milton.”

“No. Slava Bogu. You can be a strong top and blend into the crowd or a consummate brat for that matter. However, I don’t think Cotton’s the blending type.”

“Yeah, I know.” Brad laughed. “Seriously,” he said, fingering the rim of the mug. “How do you know when it’s the right thing to spank, that it’s not abusive or making it worse?”

“Experience. It’s sounds like Cotton did just about everything but throw himself over your knee. Listen to your partner. I assume when you train dogs you watch their response and body language. Cotton can talk, so it should be easier.”

“I’d never hit a dog.”

“You didn’t hit Cotton in anger. You spanked him. He went willingly over your knee, and he asked for this type of relationship in the first place. Don’t ever forget that. He can withdraw consent at any time and then it would be abuse.” Tilden stared hard at Brad and leaned across the table. “You have a great deal of power in this type of relationship, but it’s Cotton who ultimately decides.”

“I see,” Brad said, swallowing hard and backing away from Tilden.

“I don’t think you’ll abuse it. I think you’re more likely to not use it enough.”

“How do you know when it’s enough?”

“Listen to your partner. He’ll tell you.”

“But what am I listening for?”

“The sounds of trust.”

“Well, that’s great,” Brad said sarcastically. “That’s like a surgeon saying you’ll just know when your knots are right. I’d like a more precise checklist.”

“You should talk to Milton. He’s good at putting these things into words and understands the dynamics of these relationships as well as anyone I’ve ever met. He’s written scads of articles on their history and evolution into modern times.”

“Having a granddad who was a top, I’m sure helped.”

“Yes, but Milton subbed also.”

“Milton as a sub,” Brad said incredulously. “Who topped him?”

“I met his dom once. Two hundred years ago he would’ve been either a prince or a revolutionary. He leaked charisma standing in the corner. The word groznii truly described him. It’s usually translated as the terrible, but it really means the awesome, as in Ivan the Awesome.”

“I’m glad he doesn’t live here,” Brad said with a shaky laugh. “I find Milton groznii enough.”

“Don’t tell him that.” Tilden laughed. “He already has a big enough ego. He’s the one to ask if you want to know the mechanics of how hard, how long, and what implement. He also understands the aftercare. He’s been on the other side and it shows. You’ll get a first hand demonstration tonight. Sheldon’s in major trouble.”

“I’m glad I’m not Sheldon.”

Tilden glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Come on. You can walk up to campus with me. Talk to Milton and talk to Luke and Mike. I’m not sure how much they’ll tell you, but if they’ll talk they can give you valuable insight into what it feels to be on their side of the equation. Sheldon will definitely talk. He’s not shy.”

“I think I’m getting that picture. Thanks for taking the time.”

“It’s nothing. As Milton always says, part of a responsibility of a top is to educate. Maybe that’s why we both teach.”

****

The six o’clock commuter train rumbled back into the West Banner Station. Cutting the wires had seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Keep Brad and Cotton stranded so Milton would talk to them, straighten them out. Sheldon had started to feel guilty early in the afternoon. He’d actually twice started to call Milton before setting the phone back in the cradle. Why put the noose around his own neck? Jim, his secretary, had noticed that Sheldon appeared distracted; Jim had asked Sheldon if he felt ill. Sheldon had made a feeble excuse of coming down with a cold.

Sheldon exited the commuter train to see Milton leaning against a lamppost, his arms folded and his expression grim. Milton strode towards Sheldon and snapped his fingers. “Your keys.”

“I’m capable of driving home.”

“I’m sure you are, but you’re not going to. You’re capable of many things; some I’m sure you don’t want to discuss on a public train platform. Your keys. I won’t ask again.”

Sheldon swallowed hard and reached into his pocket for his keys. Milton was mad, truly mad. When Milton spoke in those clipped tones with an overlay of sarcasm, Sheldon’s world got ugly fast. “What did I do?” Sheldon asked, trying for a wide-eyed look of innocence.

“Not here. Not now. We’ll talk at home.”

Sheldon trailed after Milton to the parking lot. What else was there to do? 

“Get in. Put your seat belt on,” Milton ordered, opening the passenger side door. Milton said nothing on the short drive home. After parking the car in the drive, Milton walked back to the passenger side where Sheldon sat frozen. “Up. Inside.”

Sheldon didn’t have time to comply before Milton reached in and tugged him out of the vehicle. Milton kept his hand on Sheldon’s back as he guided his partner into the laundry room.

“Leave your shoes, coat, and umbrella here,” Milton barked. “Where are the wire cutters?”

“In the toolkit.”

“Show me.”

Sheldon moved to where they kept the toolkit; his feet felt like lead. Of course they weren’t in the toolkit; they were in his briefcase.

“Put the tools on the counter. Tell me what each tool is.”

“Hammer,” Sheldon started, his voice faltering. “Wrench, vice grips, screw driver—they’re in my briefcase,” Sheldon choked, not trying to stop the tears that were running down his cheeks.

“Go upstairs and wait for me.” Milton’s voice was ice personified.

Sheldon didn’t look back but fled the laundry room into the kitchen and up the stairs. His brain only faintly registered that everyone seemed to be gathered in the kitchen. He thought Tilden might have touched Sheldon’s shoulder in sympathy as he darted through the kitchen and up the stairs.

****

Milton shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly he released the breath. He opened Sheldon’s briefcase; tucked in the top pocket along with a cellphone were the wire cutters. Milton ran his large hand over the handles as he tucked them back in the toolkit and stowed it in the cupboard. Sheldon could be audacious at times, but even for him disabling a guest’s car was outrageous. Milton headed through the kitchen toward their rooms.

Tilden’s hand closed around Milton’s wrist as Milton crossed the kitchen floor. “Are you OK?”

“No,” Milton snapped before he forced himself with a conscious effort to relax his shoulders and neck. “Sorry, it’s not your fault. I just don’t understand what got into that boy. It’s not like we’re new at this. He had to know he’d be in a world of trouble for this little stunt.”

“I don’t think he thought that far ahead,” Tilden said, rubbing his friend’s shoulders. “I think he was worried about Cotton, and that was all the further he thought. You know Sheldon has a big heart.”

“A big heart, but sometimes... Sabotaging a car.” Milton shook his head.

“You’ve always said that no matter what Mike or Luke do that Sheldon will always have done something more insane or audacious. He’s just proving you right.”

Milton gave Tilden a twisted smile. “You know I’m not going to kill him.”

“I know, but I think you’re considering using your belt, and I think it’s too much. Sheldon wasn’t trying to be malicious. He was trying to help—-misguided, poorly planned, but not outright ugly.”

“I needed a vacation day anyway,” Brad said from the far corner of the table.

“I’m sorry about my partner causing you to miss work and leaving you stranded here another day.”

“No harm done. Today was very educational. The best continuing education I’ve ever had. Now I just need a textbook Supportive Topping for Dummies.” Brad ran his fingers through Cotton’s pale hair and kissed his partner’s forehead. “You should run weekend training camps. We’d certainly sign up. You could probably make a good living at it.”

“That sounds frightening,” Milton said with a genuine smile. “Couples counseling along with courses in creative auto disassembling, dressing inappropriately for the weather, and unique temper tantrums. Thanks guys. I really won’t kill my little devil.” Milton kissed Tilden on the cheek and climbed the stairs to their room.

Sheldon had changed into pajamas and was curled up in the armchair, looking smaller and younger than he really was. He looked up, his face streaked with tears. “Are you going to use your belt?”

Milton walked over to the worn armchair and wrapped his arms around his partner. “No, Tilden talked me out of it.”

“Bless him,” Sheldon said with a trace of his usual humor.

Milton pulled his partner out of the chair, sat down, and pulled Sheldon back onto his lap. “Does the belt frighten you that badly?”

“I know you won’t harm me, but ...” Sheldon burrowed into Milton’s chest.

“I used it when I caught you drinking and driving. You were very frightened then, weren’t you? You thought I might throw you out.” Milton kissed the side of Sheldon’s face and let his chin rest on Sheldon’s red hair. Milton continued when Sheldon didn’t say anything. “I love you, my boy, and don’t you forget it. No matter what you do, I will love you. You could break my heart by loving someone else or intentionally hurting me, but I will love you always.”

“I’d never do that,” Sheldon whispered.

“I know,” Milton said, kissing Sheldon again. 

“You were mad at me at the station,” Sheldon said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry I lied to you about the wire cutters.”

“Yes, I was, but we’ll work it out. And yes, I did talk to Cotton and Brad today and so did Tilden. You could’ve just asked us, you didn’t need to come up with a crazy scheme involving vandalizing cars. Why didn’t you tell me you thought I needed to talk to them?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just you were being so obtuse this morning. You usually aren’t shy about telling people what you think, and you were tiptoeing around them this morning.”

“Sheldon, my boy, they barely know me. Ordering Brad to tighten up on his partner hardly seemed like appropriate breakfast conversation. I thought Tilden could handle that conversation with more tact than I could.”

“Did he?”

“He started it and then dragged me in as the more experienced top for my opinions.”

“Are they better now?”

“Yes, I think they’ll figure it out, but it’s not going to be a straight line. But it’s us we need to talk about, not them.”

“You already know what happened,” Sheldon said into Milton’s shirt. “Can we just get on with it?”

“Tell me what you were thinking.”

“God! Haven’t we already hashed it out enough? It was stupid. I should have talked with you.”

“Sheldon,” Milton said in a warning tone. “Do you need to stand in the corner?”

Sheldon grabbed hold of Milton’s shirt. “Don’t put me in the corner. Please.”

“Then talk to me. We’ve been together a long time, and this is not your usual schtick. What bothered you so much this morning? Are all these inexperienced boys getting on your nerves?”

“It just seems so hard for them.”

“I know.” Milton kissed the side of Sheldon’s neck, biting lightly.

“Mike and Luke go from one disaster to the next.”

“And I’m pretty distracted by them, aren’t I?”

“No, this wasn’t about me needing more attention,” Sheldon said hotly. “You’re good about making time for me. Tilden even finds time for me, and he looks like he’s run ragged. I shouldn’t have played with him the day Luke cheated. He didn’t need the distraction.”

“Sheldon, honey.” Milton tightened his arms around his partner. “Tilden knew you were playing with the door slamming and stomping, and he enjoyed it. He was very appreciative of your help with Luke that day.”

“He thought I helped?” Sheldon asked, not masking the longing in his voice.

“Yes, he made a special effort to tell me, and I should have told you. I’ve been distracted. You should talk with Brad. An experienced boy can teach a top things that no top could ever tell him. I think Cotton will probably see you as an older generation and therefore scary, but he did talk to Luke.”

“Luke’s sweet—clueless but sweet.”

“Behave.” Milton let a teasing tone creep into his voice.  “What were you thinking this morning when you cut the car’s wires?” Milton asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“I don’t know. They just seemed so lost and alone. I wanted them to stay.”

“That was a nice thought, but poor execution.” Milton ruffled Sheldon’s hair. “What am I going to do with you? Sabotaging someone’s car because you think they’re lonely. That’s a new one.” Milton hugged his partner and kissed Sheldon’s forehead before putting him on his feet between Milton’s knees. Milton put his hand under Sheldon’s chin and lifted it so their eyes met. “If you ever intentionally damaged someone else’s property again, no matter what the cause, I will use my belt. I’m going to paddle you today for it. And we still need to talk about the lie about the wire cutters.”

Milton saw Sheldon choke back a sob as his cheeks flamed a bright red. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought we’d worked out that problem. I guess you need a stronger reminder. I’m keeping you close until I think I can trust you again, and I will keep your keys until that time. Now go get the paddle and meet me in the sitting room.” 

Milton watched Sheldon’s eyes widen at the demand to get the paddle. Milton usually took the paddle into the sitting room and drew Sheldon over his knees, letting Sheldon play a more passive role. But today Milton was going to paddle Sheldon harder than usual, and he wanted to fully remind Sheldon of his role in the relationship and that his boy freely and willing consented to that role.

Milton waited until Sheldon had taken the paddle out from under the socks and handkerchiefs and followed him into the sitting room, shutting the door and turning on the television and the vacuum cleaner. Hopefully the combined noise would muffle the sound for everyone downstairs. If Milton knew Trent, Mace, and Tilden as well as he thought he did, they were making as much noise as possible. Tilden probably started the wash, and Mace probably found a recipe that required the use of the mixer, blender, and Cuisinart simultaneously.

Milton signaled for Sheldon to drop his pajama bottoms and lie over his knees. Sheldon slowly stepped out of them and folded them over the arm of the sofa. He handed Milton the paddle with a pleading expression. Milton patted his thighs and waited. Sheldon dropped across his top’s thighs and grabbed Milton’s leg in a bruising grip. Milton traced his fingers lightly down Sheldon’s back, waiting for the worst of the tension to subside. He could tell by the shake of Sheldon’s shoulders that his boy was already crying hard. Milton continued to lightly stoke Sheldon’s back, letting his partner know by his touch that he was loved and treasured. When Sheldon had calmed, Milton shifted and brought the paddle down hard on his lover’s exposed backside. He paddled quickly, covering his partner’s butt with four complete circuits and not stopping until Sheldon’s skin was a deep red. Sheldon wailed at each swat and now hung over Milton’s knees limp and sobbing. Milton rubbed his lover’s shoulders, calming and soothing his boy. He slid Sheldon to his knees and cradled his partner’s head in his lap.

Milton let Sheldon cry, stroking his hair gently. “I’ve got you. Everything’s OK,” Milton murmured reassuringly.

After a few minutes, Sheldon looked up, his eyes still wet with tears. “Are we good now? That hurt.”

“It was supposed to,” Milton said and kissed Sheldon’s wet cheek, “and yes, we’re good.  Let’s get your face washed, so you can apologize to Brad and Cotton without frightening them.”

Sheldon gave Milton a pleading look.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go with you.” Milton pulled Sheldon to his feet and shepherded him into the bathroom where Milton wiped his partner’s face with a cold damp cloth. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Milton grasped Sheldon’s hand and led him downstairs into the living room where Tilden must have herded everyone to try to block out the noise. The TV was blaring with an American program for a change, and in the distance Milton could hear both the washer and dryer running. The rich smells emanating from the kitchen suggested either Mace or Trent had been baking. Brad and Cotton were curled around each other as close to the the T.V. as possible. 

Milton turned the TV off and pushed Sheldon in front of him, keeping his hands on his partner’s shoulders. “I think you have something to say.”

“I’m sorry about your car, and I’ll pay for the repairs,” Sheldon said, keeping his eyes firmly affixed to the floor.

“There was no real harm done, and I enjoyed the vacation day,” Brad said. “And the rumor is that Mace made his famous chocolate cake. I’d drive halfway down the east coast for good chocolate cake.”

“Thank you,” Sheldon said softly.

Cotton secure in Brad’s lap looked at Sheldon and Milton with wonder, and Milton suspected some degree of fear, at least toward him. “Are you OK?” Cotton stammered.

“Sore as hell, but everything’s good. He’s not as scary as he seems,” Sheldon said, flicking his eyes back toward Milton and giving Cotton a wry grin. “He does pack a mean paddle, though.”

Milton pulled Sheldon into a hug. “Let’s go make a sandwich, and then we can go upstairs and have a lie down. I’m sure Mace will bring us a piece of cake.”

As Milton and Sheldon walked back toward the kitchen, Brad stood and put Cotton on his feet. Brad shook Milton’s and Sheldon’s hands. “I know it wasn’t the most orthodox way to offer help, but I do appreciate it,” Brad said to Sheldon with a genuine smile.

“Thanks, you know you guys can call us. Between the two of us, we have years of experience, and I’m a hellion. If I haven’t tried it, it probably can’t be done,” Sheldon said with a glimpse of his usual grin. 

“Come on, brat,” Milton growled, tousling Sheldon’s hair.