Lost and Found 6

Chapter 6

Tilden and Milton were flanking both young brats as they made their way across campus. Luke listened to their feet land on the dark asphalt on the path, thinking of the poor six hundred  who charged off to their death. At least he thought it was six hundred from the dreadful poetry contests he remembered in middle school, which every year was either won by the ill-fated regiment or by Frost and his cold roads. The campus was quiet, still too early for the raucous frat parties, and only the most diligent student drifted into the library on a Saturday night. The only company was the naked, dormant trees and the blue police phone boxes every five hundred meters.

Luke shifted the shopping bag to his other hand. Trent and Mace had as usual loaded them down with food, their solution to all the world’s problems. Luke longed to be at home, grazing on Mace’s pickles and hard-boiled eggs while watching the television. Milton had pointedly and in great detail lectured Sheldon on appropriate behavior for watching Meet Your Mate with Tilden’s parents. Sheldon had rolled his eyes at Luke and shot him smirking glances until Milton had swatted him hard. He then managed to stand like a chagrined little boy through the rest of the lecture.

A white plaque with black lettering announced their arrival at the student health center. The buildings was red brick, designed in a neutral modern style. Tilden ushered them into the hallway, and they shed their coats onto a rack already teeming with windbreakers and polar fleeces. Maybe teeming was an exaggeration, but theirs were not the first coats. Luke had hoped Saturday night would keep the college mob home waiting for the start of kegs and rum and Coke.

Tilden ran his hand down Luke’s back. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

Luke managed a nod. He hated public speaking and to talk about a lifestyle that he couldn’t even fully articulate was more than he wanted to think about. Fortunately Tilden wasn’t giving him a chance to think about it. He hooked his arm around Luke’s shoulders and more than figuratively dragged him toward the room. Even Mike must have been having second thoughts because Milton had him firmly by the hand.

Luke could hear the sound of nervous laughter and chitchat from the hallway as they entered a large meeting hall. About twenty people were milling around in clumps of three or four. A few students must have come alone, and they were busy trying to fade into the woodwork. Two older men came out of the corner where they’d been talking to a member of the health services staff.

“Hello, Dean Tyler, Mr. Martin,” Luke said surprised.

“I thought you needed some moral support.” Tyler gave Luke a big smile. “And Josh came along to keep me out of trouble.”

Martin made a snorting noise but otherwise made no sign that he'd heard the comment. He was already deep in conversation with Milton, and all three tops had started unloading the food. A tall woman in khakis and a purple turtleneck walked over. She smiled, bright white teeth behind her red lips.

“Luke, I’m Mary Steibert. I was at the meeting you had with the college president. I doubt if you remember me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” Luke said with a faint smile, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Tyler bent down and whispered into Luke’s ear, “Take your hands out of of your pockets, or you’ll have my partner over here in a flash. He doesn’t do defensive and retreating behavior.”

Luke groaned, but complied. This was going from bad to worse. At least, he didn’t think he knew any of the students here, not well anyway. 

“Shit,” Mike muttered. “That’s Steve from the dorm. God, I guess he’s come to make fun of me. I’ll knock the crap out of him if he starts anything.”

“Mike, do I need to get a top?” Tyler asked.

 Luke saw Mike flush. He must have forgotten that Dean Tyler was standing with them. Tyler laid a hand on Mike’s shoulder, but Mike shook it off. “I’ll be OK. It’s just he takes great joy in needling me. I’m sure he’s come to poke fun at me, the good little student shacked up with the professor.”

“Have you ever thought that he might be a young and confused submissive? Maybe he’s jealous?” 

Tyler was interrupted by a sharp whistle from Milton. He looked every inch the college professor and the top; his dark eyes flashed behind his glasses. The crowd settled down with a few nervous murmurs. Some sat perched in metal folding chairs while others like Luke and Mike tried to lean casually against the wall as if these meeting were no more unusual than a dorm meeting reminding the students of the dangers of excess drink. Milton waited until everyone was quiet, his expression both severe and serene at the same time.

“Thank you,” Milton said finally, his hands clasped behind him in full lecture mode. “I think many of you know me since I teach a survey history course, but for those who don’t I’m Milton Brown, professor of history and government and also a dominant.” Milton paused while a ripple of noise passed through the crowd. “My partner, submissive, and often brat is at home tonight, but I came in support of my good friend Tilden Blake and his two partners, Mike and Luke, fellow members of the student body.” Milton looked around the room, until he spotted the two young men. “Stop hiding. You’re the guests of honor.”

Luke felt his face grow hot. If Dean Tyler hadn’t put his hand on his shoulder, he thought he probably would have fled to the bathroom. Luke’s only comfort was that Mike didn’t look any happier. Mike made a sour face, but he allowed Tyler to push him towards the front of the room. Tilden grabbed both of them as they came forward, kissing each of his partners firmly on his forehead.

“Hang in there,” Tilden whispered. “They’re just as scared as you are, and if it makes you feel any better I’d rather be defending my dissertation again than standing here.”

Milton looked at Tyler with a raised eyebrow as if questioning if Tyler wanted to be introduced. Tyler gave Milton a nod and a small shrug, a tiny smile playing on the corners of his lips.   His expression was almost shy and teasing at the same time, and Luke was struck for the first time that Tyler was truly a brat. Yes, he’d heard the stories, but Tyler was older and somehow dignified, authoritative, not something that Luke considered brat like qualities.

“This is Dean Tyler, head of men at Banner college. He has a few words he’d like to say to you,” Milton said.

Luke heard a collective sigh; the audience probably thought he was going to review the rules of date rape or consensual sex.

Tyler gave everybody a wide smile. “Well, I’m going to start with the punchline of this story. I’m a submissive, or if you prefer the nomenclature of the television show, I am also a brat.” Luke heard more than a couple of students gasp. “Yes, that’s right; I’m a brat, and I brought my partner to confirm it.” Tyler smiled and waved his partner forward. Even in his sixties Joshua Martin was a handsome man, and his silver hair added to his aura as a top.

“Brat,” Martin teased, kissing his partner on the cheek. 

“I was afraid you’d get the wrong impression that all brats are young and wild,” Tyler continued, facing the small crowd.

“No, you’re just old and wild,” Martin interrupted.

“This is my speech,” Tyler said, pretending to pout.

“Fine, fine,” Martin said, throwing up his hands and backing away.

Luke smiled, watching the two men interact. He hoped the three of them would learn to play like that. Right now he and Mike could hardly go a day without one of them getting spanked.

“As I was saying,” Tyler continued, “I came so you could see the mechanics of an established relationship. I will always be a submissive; it’s not something you grow out of. But unlike my young friends, I’m more sensitive to the nuances of my partner, and it’s rare for me to step beyond the established boundaries. I don’t often openly brat, at least not in my advanced age. However, I am a lifestyle submissive, not in the dramatic way with which some of you may be familiar from clubs or worse overdone fiction. I’m not chained to the bed or beaten daily with a rod. For me, being a submissive is not about the extremes of the role, but submitting to my partner. I desire boundaries, and as Josh’s partner, I must respect his boundaries. Not that I sometimes don’t ignore or evade his restrictions.” Tyler gave Luke a self-effacing grin. “It’s just rarer than it used to be. I’m going to turn this back over to Milton and Tilden. I think they have something planned, and I’m just the party crasher.”

“We all thought you were tired of lectures, and it is Saturday so we thought we’d circulate around and let people ask questions,” Tilden said, his eyes dancing with good humor. “If any of you self-identify as a top, professor Brown is the one to talk to."

****

Mike finished answering a shy fellow freshman’s questions. Mike almost felt sorry for the kid; he was one of those classically timid, socially inept boys who are teased unmercifully in high school. Even in college, Mike had to resist being intentionally cruel, but with three tops circling around the easy put downs seemed a high risk for a brief moment of cruel enjoyment, and this Doug guy had made some insightful comments once Mike had gotten past the out of fashion glasses and the pressed shirts. Maybe he'd learned fashion sense from the Mormon missionaries.

Doug darted a nervous glance at a clump of guys that were approaching them. “Does anyone have an apple for the teacher’s pet? Oh look, he’s even being nice to Dougie. He must be afraid of getting his little ass paddled.”

“Shut up.” Mike recognized Steve from his dorm but didn’t know the other two students by name.

“Oh, Mikey, how far you have fallen,” Steve leered at him. “Such a good boy now, teetotaling, studying, and hanging out with losers.”

“You’ve made it very clear what you think of my lifestyle,” Mike said through clenched teeth. “Why the fuck did you come? Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

“Jealous? Hardly!” Steve gave a derisive laugh. "It’s like going to the zoo—study the specimens up close.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mike made a lunge at Steve.

Mike only moved one step before a silver-haired figure appeared between the two boys. Mike froze; he had experience with Martin in his most toppish moments, and it wasn’t pretty. Of course Martin always seemed to exude the aura of dominance.

“Do I need to get Tilden?” Martin’s voice was quiet, but as sharp as knife. He’d grabbed Steve’s wrist and was keeping the boy anchored in place.  Steve was staring at him with frank, wide-eyed terror.

Mike gulped audibly. “No, sir. It was a momentary lapse.”

“Good. Go find Milton or Tilden and stay out of trouble.”

Mike nodded, relieved and surprised to get off that easily. Mike looked over at Steve with a sudden wave of sympathy. Mike knew what it was like to be trapped under Martin’s scrutiny.

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Martin said softly. “But I’m going to have a little chat with our young troublemaker. I’m not constrained by the rules of the college.” 

Mike saw Steve visibly wilt under the threat, his eyes pleading. Surprising himself, Mike murmured, “Keep your chin up. He won’t kill you. I know.” 

Martin wrapped his arm around the now stunned Steve and pushed him out of the room. Mike shook his head. That poor kid had no idea what he’d just awakened. Mike went and found Tilden, but his mind was still on Steve. Mike remembered that torturous afternoon, he’d spent in Martin and Tyler’s apartment. Martin had been kind in his own frightening way, but at least Mike had had some idea what to expect. He’d been a couple of rounds with Milton and Tilden. Poor Steve was flying blind.

“What’s the matter?” Tilden asked, laying his hand on Mike’s back.

“Do you remember Steve from Russian class?”

“Short kid with messy hair, who sat in the back with you guys when you were being hooligans. Why?” 

“Mr. Martin grabbed him and took him out in the hall.”

Tilden rolled his eyes heavenward. “What was he doing?”

“We kind of had an altercation

“Kind of?” Tilden said with a raised eyebrow.

“Mr. Martin broke it up before it got further than words. Steve was harassing me about being your brat.” Mike scuffed his shoe against the floor; he felt like a kid being scolded for fighting on the playground.

“Did it ever occur to you that Steve is envious?” Tilden asked, ruffling Mike’s hair.

“He’s a brat?”

“Oh, yeah, and spinning,” Tilden said with a small smile. Why don’t we go check on him? Make sure that poor Steve is surviving his first encounter with a top.

The hallway was empty as they headed down the corridor. Tilden stopped at the third door where a faint light was shining. He knocked and Martin came to the door. Steve was standing behind him, shaking slightly, his face tear streaked.

“Steve, are you OK? Mike was concerned about you,” Tilden asked.

Steve bit his lip and nodded, his eyes wide and anxious. Martin looped his arm around the student’s shoulders, and Steve leaned against him like he was the last resting place for kilometers. 

“Steve, is there something you want to say to Mike?” Martin asked in his implacable calm voice.

“I’m sorry for picking a fight with you.”

“It wasn’t like I was a perfect gentleman,” Mike said with a rueful smile. “And I have people watching my back.” Mike, to his own surprise, opened his arms, and Steve fell into the hug, clutching onto Mike’s back. “Welcome to my world, where the tops turn you upside down and shake you.”

“God, how do you do it?”

“It’s got its good moments too.” Mike unwound himself from Steve’s arms; he felt inadequate for the roll of comforting senior boy. “You should talk to one of the guys who really knows what’s going on.”

“I’ve got you right now,” Martin said, scooping Steve against his body. “Everything will look better after a good night’s sleep.” Martin turned toward Tilden and mouthed, “You owe me one. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Mike watched Martin walk down the hall, his arm tight around the shattered freshman, one ear pressed to his phone as he most likely called his partner who appeared seconds later carrying their coats. Steve was tucked into his coat like a compliant rag doll, shielded between the two men.

“What will happen to him?”

Tilden kissed the top of Mike’s head. “Ti maladets. I’m proud of you worrying about your classmate. He’ll spend the night with Joshua and Jeremiah, and they’ll sort it out in the morning. Steve isn’t the first lost young man who’s found shelter in their house.”

“That day you pulled me off the floor, swimming in drink, you would’ve sent me to Mr. Martin’s if I hadn’t chosen to stay with you?”

“Probably,” Tilden said, wrapping his arms around his partner. “I’m glad you stayed with us.”

Mike smiled and tucked his head tighter into Tilden’s shoulder. “Me too,” Mike said in a voice hardly above a whisper. “I love you.”

Tilden kissed him, his top’s lips enveloping his own, demanding, loving, and possessing. “Let’s go home, Mishenka.”

The walk home would have been even colder than the earlier walk across campus if Tilden and Milton hadn’t been in a crazy mood. They linked arms, putting the two boys in the middle and skipped down the path singing Russian folk tunes, dragging Tilden’s two shell-shocked partners with them. They passed one student, industriously lugging a massive backpack who stepped off the path as if he’d just encountered a drunken gang Nothing seemed to shake the tops’ mood, and Tilden belted out another line of Kalinka.

The lights of the house twinkled through the windows, and Mike could see the flicker of the television through the parted curtains as they mounted the porch steps. Tilden was still fishing in his pocket for the key when the door swung open. Sheldon stood framed in the warm house lights, flanked by Tilden’s parents. Mike blinked as a series of flashes went off in his face.

“You can’t be stars without paparazzi,” Sheldon teased, snapping a few more pictures before starting an imaginary commentary. “The newest sensations of American television return to their humble abode for the night. Even with their new stardom, the famous threesome refuses to buy a villa on the Black Sea or v chernom more  as Tilden would say.

“I tutored you in Russian for over a year, and you still think I want an underwater house,” Tilden said, rolling his eyes and making a futile grab for Sheldon, who dove back into the house and behind the relative safety of Tilden’s parents. “Na chernom more for on the seashore or at the Black Sea coast. I’m not a mermaid.”

“Do you ever give up?” Sheldon laughed. “I’m not a Russian scholar.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” Tilden deadpanned.

Everybody trailed down the hall and back into the kitchen in a clump. The kitchen was always the source of activity for this family. My family, Mike almost dared to think. Sheldon was still blathering on about the first episode, even though he was trapped under Milton’s strong arms. Dorothy grabbed Tilden and pulled him down to kiss his cheek.

“You were lovely, and you have the most handsome young partners.”

“Thanks, Mom. You two weren’t mortified?” Tilden asked almost shyly.

“Why would we be mortified watching our son on television? From the first time you put your arm around Luke’s shoulders, it was clear that you two loved each other.”

“Mom!” Tilden said, blushing.

“And, Mike,” Dorothy continued, “you look so much happier now than you looked when that episode was filmed.”

Mike grinned and sought shelter under Tilden’s arm, suddenly embarrassed by the turn of events. “I am,” he whispered, keeping his face buried in Tilden’s shoulder.

Mace and Trent started banging around in the kitchen. Mike wasn’t even remotely hungry, but the request for tea or coffee was at least a distraction from this conversation  that was becoming too personal. Trent’s little games with food were, as always, to slip over the rough spots. Mike was thankful that Trent preferred to ease around potential trouble spots, rather than boldly charge right through. If Milton hadn’t been hanging on to a bounding Sheldon, the evening’s conversation would have been painfully direct. Instead they sipped tea and made small talk about the various tops and brats on the show—guessed their shoe sizes, made fun of their clothes and hair, and imagined their talents as cooks. 

Serious conversations about that frightening thing called love were averted again.