Friends and Family 2

Chapter 2

Trent moved the last table, crowding it against the other wall and the other tables. It had been four days since Steve had revealed his little hacking episode, and the fancy tops, as Trent liked to think of them, had pledged the boy’s behavior. Trent now had to add Tilden to that list, a man who he’d always thought was too sensible for these Masonic lodge type activities. Until the arrival of Luke and Mike, Tilden had avoided interacting with outside tops, brushing off these public chest beatings as collective lunacy. Tilden had always given a helping hand to any boy in need; it was in his nature; he couldn’t help it. Of course Milton hadn’t given his friend much choice about the Green Mountain Boys this time. When Milton bulldozed, the only proper thing was to jump. How high could be worked out later.

“Hey, are you done moving those chairs? We don’t need a man with a chair statue,” Mace called from across the room.

“Sorry, I was thinking,” Trent said.

“You mean about this Mad Hatter’s tea party?”

“It’s not my thing.” Trent laughed. “But Josh and Milton have been good friends. Without them, I don’t think we’d still be together.”

“You mean you didn’t want a partner who threw plates and bathed the customers in soup.”

“Stop.” Trent walked over to Mace and pulled him into a rough hug. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It depends how you define bad. I think blood dripping onto the floor from Milton’s forehead was bad.”

“Didn’t we take care of that enough at the time?” Trent teased. “It was an accident anyway.”

“An accident in a fit of temper.” Mace dropped his eyes and blushed. “I was pretty wild then.”

“No worse than a half broke colt.” Trent ruffled Mace’s hair. “The new guys think you’re irritatingly perfect, so there’s hope for them after all.”

Mace straightened the chairs around the table.

“Is there something you want to ask me?” Trent asked.

Mace blushed a furious red, a color that Trent rarely saw in his partner. “I was just thinking of the flying plates and the first time you spanked me.”

“Josh had to twist my arm to get me to do it.”

“Yep.” Mace grinned. “When Josh is on the rampage, he’s hard to avoid. And the Green Mountain Boys are great believers in not beating around the bush.”

“Yep,” Trent said, mimicking Mace. “One of the infamous Green Mountain Boys threatened me. Two, once Milton got in the act.”

“Better you than me,” Mace joked.

“Oh, being a top is full of such trials and tribulations.” Trent pretended to wipe sweat off his brow.

“Stop.” Mace threw a napkin at Trent, hitting him in the chest. “I’m the one who is supposed to brat and be the drama queen.”

“Fortunately you passed through that phase quickly. If I were Milton I’d run off on a never ending fishing trip in the remotest corner of the West.”

“You like Sheldon.”

“In small quantities when another top has him firmly in hand. I like my calm cowboy.” Trent looped his arm around Mace’s hip and swung him close, kissing him firmly on the lips. “We better get this show on the road, or we’ll have some tops in here creating drama.”

Mace smiled his slow lazy smile that still made Trent’s heart flutter. “All right, pardner,” Mace stuffed one hand into the back pocket of his jeans and walked off with an exaggerated bowlegged gate. “This cowboy will be in the kitchen waiting,” Mace said over his shoulder, giving Trent a wink.

Trent swept a few crumbs from the tables and straightened the chairs. He threw a fresh cloth over a table and started to stack plates. Hefting a plate in his hand, he remembered the china flying across the dining room. It hadn’t even been their china.

****

Milton pressed a handkerchief to his eyebrow as the blood made a steady drip down his face and onto the floor.

“Shit! I’m sorry. Did I hit your eye?” Mace rushed forward.

“Freeze, boy,” Milton ordered in a voice that could have stopped a police dog in mid leap. “There’s glass all over the floor, and you have no shoes on. Back up and sit down.” Milton pulled the handkerchief from his face. “My eye’s fine. The plate hit above it.” Milton turned toward Trent, who was standing in the hallway, clutching several grocery bags. “Do you mind taking me to the ER? I think I need a few stitches.”

Trent was staring at Milton and nodded in reply. Trent had seen plenty of bar fights and wrapped an aura of artificial calm around himself. He’d not seen Mace in bar fights. Mace had a temper; the scuff marks on the bookshelves and walls at the cafe attested to that, but throwing their landlord’s fancy china was a new angle. Mace had frozen at Milton’s words and was sitting in a formal dining room chair as pale an quiet as a wax figure. When Milton had ordered Mace to sit, he’d dropped as if he’d been shot.

“Boy,” Milton said, turning back to Mace, “go up to your apartment, change into your pajamas, and get in bed.” Milton’s voice softened. “We’ll work this out. I won’t die from a little scratch. Go on now. You heard my orders, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Trent could hear the relief in his partner’s voice, the grasping at the simple instructions as if they were a life ring in the Atlantic.

“Sheldon will be here in an hour or so; he had a dinner engagement,” Milton said. “Do you want me to call Tilden? I can pull him out of his meeting.”

Mace shook his head.

“I expect you in bed when we get back. Understood?” Milton demanded.

“Yes, sir.” Mace fled upstairs without another word. 

Trent watched Mace’s retreating back, wondering if he should yell at him or hug him. Milton seemed satisfied, headed for the kitchen, took his jacket from a peg, and tossed his keys at Trent.

“We’ll take my car. It’s easier to park than your pickup. You need to buy a city car.” Milton gave Trent a small smile. 

“I’m supposed to be soothing you, not the other way around.”

Milton gave Trent a genuine smile. “I have a scratch. You just saw your boy flip, and you don’t have the coping skills yet. I think it will be an easier night for me.”

Trent wasn’t given a chance to question Milton’s statement as the professor put a hand on Trent’s shoulder and pushed him toward the door and the car.

Milton said little to Trent on the ride to the hospital but spent a substantial amount of time on his cell phone. Trent could only make out a few words. He maneuvered the car into the parking garage, and they made their way into the emergency room.   

Like all emergency rooms on Friday night, it was full of fools with too much lubrication who had tried to do the insane or the impossible. At least in Boston the insane or the impossible didn’t involve large livestock, and there were no young men trampled by bulls.  A quick triage and Milton was told to wait. 

Trent was watching a young family who was babbling in some incomprehensible tongue while their daughter was wracked with coughs. He slid farther away, trying to escape the spray of germs. He alternated pacing the corridor and perching by Milton when Joshua Martin walked in. Joshua scanned the waiting area, spotted the two of them, and headed over to their corner of plastic chairs. His gait was easy, his long legs covering the ground quickly but unhurriedly. Trent knew Josh as Mace’s employer and as customer in the cafe, but they weren’t friends, casual acquaintances at best, only on a first name basis at Josh’s insistence.

“The home front’s secure. Tilden’s on his way home and will deal with Mace and Sheldon when he gets there. Tilden was shocked to hear from me, but he was a good sport about it,” Josh said more to Milton than Trent. “It looks like this is going to be a long night.” Josh’s eyes, gray under the fluorescent light, scanned the packed waiting area.

“It’s Friday night,” Milton said with a shrug.

“Mr. Milton Brown,” a nurse said, waving a clipboard in front of her.

“That was quicker than I expected,” Josh muttered, looking at the overhead clock.

“I’ll probably have to wait in the cubicle for several hours. It should give you two time to talk.” Milton raised an eyebrow at Joshua before he rose to his feet.

Milton followed the nurse, and Trent was left alone under Josh’s piercing eyes. Josh leaned against the wall, the picture of focused calm. Trent squirmed under Josh’s gaze.

“Trent, come walk with me.”

Trent’s feet obeyed Joshua, even as his mind screamed that he should run the other direction. Joshua’s gray eyes were staring at Trent, as if he were taking a mental x-ray. Trent’s feet followed Josh as they walked down the corridor to a deserted elevator bank and a bulletin board full of heart healthy tips. 

Josh stepped toward Trent, a quiet menace in his motion. “What the hell are you two playing at? Your boy’s a loose cannon. Why aren’t you topping him? That boy loves you, and he needs something from you that you’re more than capable of giving. Why are you being so selfish?”

Trent tried to push by Josh, stung by the words. Josh placed an arm on either side of Trent, backing him toward the bulletin board. Trent could feel the pushpins in his back as he shrank from the top’s glare. “Get out of my life. You don’t even know me.” Trent snapped.

“No, I don’t, but I know Mace,” Josh said in an unruffled voice. “He deserves better. You’ve abandoned that boy to his fate and more the pity that boy loves you.”

“Who do you think you are?” Trent replied, his voice rising in anger. “You know nothing about me. How dare you lecture me about my partner. You interfering...” Trent swallowed hard, trying to get hold of his anger. He had an almost overwhelming urge to slug this interfering fool, but Trent had never been a fighter. Even as a child when fists were flying, he’d tried to reason himself out of a fight, not that he was a wimp. He’d decked a few homophobic bullies in high school.  “Mr. Martin, I know you’re a friend of Milton’s, and Mace speaks highly of you, but you have overstepped your bounds. Please let me be.” Trent tried to capture the cold, dry voice his father used when he was disappointed. He’d heard it enough; he should be able to mimic it.

“You stand right here and listen to me, boy.” Josh had dropped his voice to a low growl, and Trent’s feet were rooted in place. “I’m a dominant, and so are you if you’d open your eyes and do what’s right. Your partner is a beautiful boy, but he needs a top. If you can’t or won’t dominate him, I’ll find somebody who will. He deserves better.”

“How dare you!” Trent felt his heart beat in his chest, and the anger course through his veins. Without thinking, he shoved hard against Josh. “Back off.”

“No.” The denial was emphatic, but calm.

Trent took a swing at Josh; something he couldn’t remember doing since high school. Josh caught his arm with a practiced ease and spun Trent around so his face was squashed into the pushpins and flyers. Papers fell from the bulletin board like leaves in a fall gale as Trent struggled.

“Be still, little boy.” Josh’s voice was still calm as if they were having a polite conversation over dinner. “You forgot I work construction. I have some experience with fights, and those men are wielding crowbars and two by fours.” Josh wrapped both Trent’s wrists in his large hand and landed three hard swats on the trapped man’s rear. “Settle down. I can’t talk to someone who’s trying to give me a black eye.”

Trent struggled, his breath coming in gasps. He would have shouted, but talking when your lungs are being squeezed by a large, insistent man behind him and an unyielding wall in front of him proved difficult. Trent squirmed harder, earning three more swats, but he did manage to turn his head, so he was no longer tasting the slick paper of the flyers. “Get off me, or I’ll scream.”

“If you were going to scream, you already would have. You don’t want to explain how a man more than twenty years older than you has efficiently pinned you against the wall and swatted your naughty fanny. Now are you going to settle down so we can talk like two reasonable grown-ups, or do I need to put you over my knee?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Trent spat out.

“Wouldn’t I, little boy? Do you want to test me any further?”

Trent took a shuddering breath. He felt suddenly limp and tired. Josh hadn’t been aggressive or shouted; if he had, Trent would have continued to fight. Instead there was an almost unearthly calm about the promise to put Trent over the older man’s knee. “What do you want?” Trent asked, trying to look around far enough to see Josh’s face.

“I want you to love your boy the way he needs to be loved.” Josh paused to let the words sink in. “Can we talk now like civilized people, or do I need to keep a hold of you?”

“I won’t try to punch you again,” Trent said, embarrassed.

“Thank you.” Josh stepped back but kept a hand on Trent’s shoulder. He guided Trent over to a quiet bench in the semi-darkened hallway. “Sit down.”

“Are you always this bossy?” Trent asked, trying to regain his equilibrium, but he was unable to meet Josh’s eyes.

“Pretty much. Welcome to the world of dominants. You’ve seen Milton in action. You understand what a dominant is?”

Trent had seen Milton grab his partner and have words with him. He’d even seen him swat Sheldon a few times, but perhaps unconsciously he’d tried to pretend he didn’t know what else was going on. He’d looked the other way when he’d seen Sheldon ease himself down on the hard kitchen chairs or make rueful jokes with Mace. Mace seemed to understand the drill. He’d settled right down today when Milton had ordered him upstairs. If Trent had sent Mace to his room, they would have argued before Mace would have stomped off upstairs and refused to talk to Trent for the the rest of the evening.

When Trent didn’t answer, Josh continued, ”I’m a dominant; Milton’s a dominant and so is Tilden, and we think you can be a top also. Mace needs a top. I’ve topped him and so has Milton. Even Tilden treats Mace like a submissive, even though he’s hesitant to throw his weight around. Mace needs his partner to dominate him.”

Trent searched Joshua’s face before studying his own knees again.

“And yes, I’ve spanked Mace, and he responded well to it. I think you are aware that tops use corporal punishment. It’s only one tool in our arsenal, but your boy needs it right now. He’s going to hurt himself and probably an innocent bystander in the process. If it hadn’t been Milton he chucked the plate at, he might be facing assault charges.”

Trent nodded. This evening had a surreal feeling about it. First the red blood dripping on the starched white handkerchief, then Josh wrestling him into the bulletin board and holding him helpless, and finally the calm announcement that Trent needed to spank his partner. Trent wasn’t naive; he was living in the twenty-first century and aware of such relationships. He actually knew a pair of team ropers who he thought had participated in such an arrangement. Trent had written a piece on their partnership after they’d qualified for the rodeo finals in Vegas. They’d cracked some crude jokes at Trent’s expense which suggested they knew what a hand felt like on a hot butt. 

And if Trent was honest with himself, it was pretty damn obvious what went on in Milton and Sheldon’s relationship. Sheldon didn’t seem unhappy about it. In fact, the opposite; he was thriving. He ran about the house like a half controlled leprechaun. Trent didn’t know about Tilden. Josh and Milton hinted he was a top, but he was different, quieter, less overt. Trent had seen Tilden pull Sheldon aside and given him an ear burning lecture about sun bathing on the roof. When Trent had tried to get Sheldon to come back inside, the red-haired pixie had ignored him. Tilden had grown taller and projected his voice across the slate tiles. Sheldon had scrambled inside, shamefaced. Later that night Sheldon had come upstairs to apologize. Trent didn’t see Milton, but he expected that the top was just out of sight in the hall. Sheldon’s eyes had been wet with tears, and he gulped and sniffled through the apology. Trent had nodded and shaken Sheldon’s hand, but Sheldon had leaned into Trent, expecting more. Trent had jumped back startled. He didn’t touch someone else’s partner, and Sheldon had fled the room, looking more upset than when he entered. The next morning Milton had trapped Trent in the laundry room and delivered a very deliberate lecture on courtesy, affection, and the expectations in the household. It had left Trent feeling like a naughty and shamed schoolboy. Further disturbing Trent’s sensibilities, Milton leaned down and kissed the surprised man’s forehead.

“Don’t look so stricken. It’s not a capital offense. You’re forgiven.”

“What did you do to Sheldon?” Trent had asked, stepping backwards out of potential hugging or kissing range. Unfortunately the laundry room wasn’t spacious, and Milton was blocking the door, his large frame propped against the doorframe. 

“You’ll have to ask him.” Milton had given Trent a controlled half smile. “He’ll be happy to tell you, to know you cared enough to ask. But I will tell you I don’t think you’ll have problems with him climbing around on the roofs, at least for a while.”

Trent never did ask. It seemed like a private matter. 

“Trent, are you with me here? I thought it was Milton who had the head wound.” Joshua said, putting his hand on Trent’s knee.

Trent flinched.

Joshua laughed, his gray eyes softening. “They still haven’t broken you of your touch sensitivity. Milton’s always putting his arm around people’s shoulders, and Sheldon will crawl in the lap of anyone he trusts if you give him half a chance.” Joshua must have seen Trent’s stricken expression because he laughed again. “I see you’ve had that experience. You didn’t know what to make of it, did you?”

Trent nodded, trying to figure out where this conversation was going. Joshua had shifted his hand from Trent’s knee to Trent’s shoulder, and Trent wished silently that the older man would keep his hands to himself.

“You’d like me to stop touching you,” Joshua said, reading Trent’s mind. “You’re afraid to ask after our little performance at the bulletin board. You don’t want to anger me.” Joshua raised an eyebrow. “I’m right, aren’t I? And no, I’m not psychic. I’ve trained a few dominants and submissivess in my time, and I’ve become good at reading them.”

Trent nodded again, reluctantly impressed by the older man’s skill. 

“You really want to tell me to leave in the most direct and unpleasant terms. That I should get out of you and your partner’s lives. That I’m an impossibly nosy old fart.” Joshua smiled. “The last one is certainly true.” Joshua pitched his voice softer. “You have a lovely young man, and flying plates aside, you two adore each other. It would be a tragedy to let your relationship disintegrate because nobody had the guts to interfere. So we’re interfering. The gentle hints weren’t working.” Josh crouched on the floor, facing the bench and keeping his eyes on Trent. “You’re going to have to trust us here because we’re going to ask you to do some crazy things.”

Trent rubbed his forehead. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined having this conversation with a near stranger in a hospital corridor. He’d met Josh a few times at the cafe and spoken a few words to him when he took Mace to work. He knew Mace liked and respected Josh. He’d even heard Mace in an unguarded moment call the older top Josh and not Mr. Martin or just plain Martin and kid him about being old and slow. This wasn’t a casual conversation between acquaintances; this was the type of conversation you might have with your father if he’d been more expressive than the silent, rigid man who’d raised Trent.

Josh looked at his watch. “We probably have forty-five minutes to an hour before they’re done suturing Milton. I’m going to give you a crash course on being a top. This won’t be gentle or friendly, but Milton says you have it in you, and that you’re tougher than you look.”

****

Trent went behind the counter to fill the pitchers with ice water. They had to take two from the house because they weren’t set up for banquets and catering. 

“You have a far away look. What are you thinking about, partner?” Mace drawled.

“Josh, us, and poor Steve.”

“I know Josh can be hard, but he’s a good man. He straightened us out, didn’t he? They came in yesterday afternoon for coffee. You were out somewhere. Steve looked pretty good, considering what’s happening tonight. Of course, Josh wasn’t letting Steve out of arm’s reach.”

Trent kissed Mace’s cheek. “I thought I was supposed to be one reassuring you, not the other way around.”

“We didn’t read the book. I know I flunked submission 101, and I don’t think you did much better in the introduction to topping. Josh’s a traditionalist but he’s good for that boy. He was good for us when we needed him.You’ve been thinking about my infamous plate throwing incident, haven’t you?” 

“Yep, guilty as charged.”

A faint blush rose up Mace’s cheeks, and he reached up and push his hair back off his forehead, a gesture that was a sure sign of embarrassment.

Trent caught the back of Mace’s belt and pulled him close. “It was just as embarrassing for me as for you. Joshua in a handicapped bathroom stall. I’m probably scarred for life.”

“You look it.” Mace grinned and kissed his partner’s cheeks. He ran his hands down Trent’s chest. “We can look for scars later,” he said in a throaty voice.

“Brat, you better watch out, or the only thing we’re going to be looking for is the wooden spoon.” Trent swatted Mace lightly and laughed as his partner danced away, sashaying his hips. 

Trent smiled and turned back to his water pitchers. Josh had been right that frightful evening at the hospital. Pleasant, no—but right. 

****

Josh rose to his feet and towered over Trent, his hands resting on his hips. “Boy, you have royally messed up.” Josh then launched into an ear burning lecture, covering things in his life that Trent had thought were private secrets, not common knowledge to every stranger in town. Mace and Josh must have talked more when they carpooled than Trent realized. Josh finished and glared down at Trent. Josh wasn’t a huge man, but at this moment he looked enormous, the sinews in his arms bulging against the skin. “So, what are we going to do about this mess?”

Trent gulped. 

“Hmm.” Josh said, stepping closer so his knees were touching Trent, and Trent was forced backward on the bench. “I asked you a question, boy.”

“I think I should be punished for the way I treated Mace.” Where had that come from? Trent bit his lip. Those words had come out of his mouth?

Josh’s body relaxed. He no longer looked like a mountain lion ready to spring. “So do I.” His voice was soft almost like a warm blanket to snuggle against. “Once I do this you give up the guilt and move forward. It will be time to build a new future, not wallow in shame. Do you understand?”

Trent nodded, but that didn’t seem to be enough. Josh continued to stare at Trent. “Yes, sir.”

A brief nod and Joshua continued, “The second part of this deal is that I’m doing it to teach you. The fastest way for a top to learn how to administer corporal punishment is to find himself over an experienced dominant’s knees. It’s not the most pleasant, but it works, and besides you deserve a spanking.” Josh held out his hand. “Come.”

Trent placed his hand in Josh’s and felt the older man’s dry palm as the fingers closed over Trent’s. Too late to change his mind, Trent thought fleetingly as Josh pulled him to his feet.

“It’s going to be all right.” 

Josh settled an arm over Trent’s shoulders, and for once Trent didn’t pull away. They walked down the hall to a deserted bathroom. Josh guided Trent inside and looked around until he found the cleaning cart and the closed sign. He placed the sign outside and blocked the door with the cart.

“That should prevent unwanted visitors.” Josh led Trent to the handicapped stall. “Take your pants off and hang them over the door. I don’t always ask Jer to do more than slide his pants down, but I figure you don’t want to be stomping all over them on a bathroom floor, hospital or not.”

Trent slid his pants down and with some hopping managed to get them over his shoes. He shivered as the air hit his bare thighs, even though it wasn’t cold in the bathroom.

“Good.” Josh sat down on the toilet seat. “Come lie over my lap. I’m taller than you. Neither of you are great big guys, so you might both be more comfortable on a bed or sofa. I spread my legs slightly, so my boy gets more chest support. Josh’s warm hand guided Trent down. “Take hold of my ankle to help stabilize yourself. I’m going to wrap my left arm around your hip. It’s to help you balance, not pin you in place. If you struggle wildly, I will let you go. Corporal punishment is always voluntary. I like explicit consent every time. I won’t give out more than a few swats without Jer taking off his own pants and putting himself over my knee.”

Trent squirmed, trying to find a comfortable spot over Josh’s thighs. He felt Josh lift his shirt tails and then a hand on his boxers. Trent involuntarily shuddered as Josh slid Trent’s boxers down.

“Deep breath, young man. I know you’re feeling vulnerable, but you’re safe with me.”

Josh’s hand came up and cracked down hard. Trent stifled a gasp and jerked away from the blow. This is what that man called safe! The swats came quick, and Trent could feel himself roll and pitch from side to side, trying to avoid Josh’s hard hand. Trent bit his lip; he was dangerously close to crying. Josh landed three hard swats each in the same place, bringing the already inflamed skin to the boiling point.. Trent drew a breath, blinking back hot tears. The swats stopped, and Josh’s hand rested on Trent’s back.

“It’s OK to cry with me.  I know you’re embarrassed, and you hardly know me. I’ve seen oceans of tears. Expect Mace to cry when you spank him. Josh pulled up Trent’s underwear and helped Trent to his feet. “Get your pants on.” Josh’s voice was gruff but kind. He tousled Trent’s hair, and Trent started to automatically duck. “You let me spank you. I think you could also let me offer a little comfort.”

“Sorry,” Trent mumbled, fighting back tears.

Ignoring Trent’s flinch, Josh kissed the younger man’s cheek. “Milton should be about done.” Josh looped his arm around Trent’s shoulders. “Your boy will want more comfort than this, but I guess this is all you’re going to let me give. Come on. Wash your face, and let’s go.”

Josh moved the cart and the bathroom maintenance sign while Trent splashed his face  with water. He blinked hard. He wanted to give in to the tears. It wasn’t the pain. It stung, but it wasn’t excruciating. It was something different—an emotional pummeling. 

“Don’t stew,” Josh said from behind Trent. Joshua put his hands on Trent’s shoulder and guided him from the bathroom. 

Together they walked down the corridor. Nothing had changed in the hallway. There were still the same signs pointing to the pharmacy and the morgue, the Coke machine, and the bulletin board with its scattered pinups. Trent didn’t feel the same. He leaned into Josh, absorbing the contact.

“So there you are,” Milton said. He was holding a sheaf of discharge papers, and an adhesive bandage covered his eyebrow. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to find my own way home.” Milton was looking back and forth between Josh and Trent, a peculiar expression on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Trent stumbled over the words.

“Shh,” Milton said, opening his arms. “Josh has taken care of it.”

Trent found himself against Milton’s chest, a long arm wrapped around him. Trent wasn’t sure how he got here. Had he walked himself into those open arms? Had Josh given him a gentle push, or had Milton’s long arms ensnared Trent? He couldn’t say, and he didn’t know if it was important. Somewhere in the back of his brain he realized that these two men had just given him a demonstration of what it meant to be a top. They’d torn him apart and then welcomed him within their protection as if he were their closest friend. 

Milton shifted Trent, so they could walk to the car. Trent started to pull away. He could feel the traces of tears against his cheeks.

“Everybody’s too busy with their own problems to notice. Being a top doesn’t mean you fly alone. We’ve got your back now, and everything will work out.” Milton uttered the words with crisp finality, and tightened his arm around Trent’s shoulder.

Trent, resigned but not discontented, allowed himself to be walked out to the parking garage. The night was warm and pleasant, still too early in the year for the heavy humidity of summer. 

“Keys.” Milton said as they approached the car.

“You have a head wound,” Trent said, shaking himself loose from Milton’s arm. “I think I should drive.”

“I had a scratch. I was never knocked unconscious.”

Trent didn’t move, his hand still deep in his jeans pocket.

“Boys,” Josh interrupted, “I see Trent’s dominant side is surfacing, but I think Milton’s more qualified to drive.” Trent started to interrupt, but Joshua continued, smothering the half said words. “If I had any doubts about Milton’s injuries, I’d drive you both home.”

“Tilden would like that,” Milton said with a wry grin on his face.

“He’s still avoiding the brotherhood of tops?” Josh reached toward Trent, his hand out for the keys.

“He’s excellent with Sheldon, but not acknowledging it,” Milton said. “He’s good with Mace also. Hopefully one day he’ll find the right partner and take his place where we all know he belongs.”

“That thing with Gordon still bothering him?”

“Yes, I can’t seem to get him beyond it. Gordon’s tried, but Tilden won’t talk to him.”

“You should force it,” Josh said softly. “He’s your friend, and it’s been years.”

“I can’t. He’d abandon the whole top thing if I did.”

Trent shifted; he felt like he was eavesdropping on a private conversation.

Josh unlocked the car, and Trent went around to the passenger side.

Josh grinned. “There’s a smart cookie. He figured he was outnumbered.” 

Trent felt his face flush, but the lilt and tease in Josh’s voice was infectious. “I’m no fool. I prefer the world in an upright position.”

Everybody laughed. “Boy, you have cheek.” Josh snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re a top with that bratty comment, or we’d have to wear you butt right out.”

Trent slid into the car. He squirmed as he hit the seat, rolling onto his hip and tucking his feet under him. He’d watched Mace sit like this after a day at work, and at the time thought nothing of it. How often had Josh spanked Mace, and why hadn’t Mace told his partner? Trent rubbed his rump. It stung sharply under his jeans, and he had the distinct impression that Josh had only given him a taste. Trent rubbed again; he’d gone over Josh’s knees with hardly a complaint. Why were they so convinced he was a top?

Milton climbed in the car and squeezed his passenger’s knee. “You’re thinking so loud I can see fog in the car. It’s not particle physics; it will work out. Failure is not an option.”

Trent wished it was that simple.

Josh stuck his head in the open window. “Stop brooding, or I’ll be your worst nightmare.” The tone was teasing, but Trent didn’t think it was a completely idle threat, and the threat to find someone to top Mace if he couldn’t or wouldn’t had been more than real. “And you,” Josh said focusing his stare on Milton, “need to sort out Tilden. “I’m sure having a spare top around the house is handy, but he needs to stop hiding. I’ll work on him if you’re not enough to convince him.” 

“Tilden tops at home. Give him time. When he decides he’s ready, he’ll do it full force. That’s how he does everything—studies it quietly and privately and then arrives as a new expert. I’d think he’d take you the wrong way, like he took Gordon. He doesn’t know  you well enough.  He’s seen you at college functions, but I don’t think he realizes you and Jer are dominant and submissive, and I haven’t wanted to announce it. Jer keeps that side of himself hidden at school.”

“We’re older than you guys,” Josh said with a touch of wistfulness. “Jer had a bad experience when he was younger.”

Trent coughed, to remind them that he was still there.

“We haven’t forgotten about you,” Milton said with a soft smile. “You’re one of us now. You’re not invading anyone’s privacy. Outside of our little circle, we keep absolute silence.” Milton smiled again. “Tilden likes you. Maybe you and Mace will convince Tilden to get his head out of his books.”

“You better get going,” Josh said. “Tilden will need rescuing from Sheldon and Mace.”

“I doubt it. He’ll have sent Sheldon to bed with a video and a piece of pie, and I expect he’s sitting with Mace, grading papers and carding his fingers through the boy’s hair. Submissives instinctively trust him. They trust you also,” Milton said, squeezing Trent’s thigh. “That’s why Sheldon acts out with you. He wants you to top, so you better get ready. He’ll be dragging Mace along in some of his crazy schemes if we’re not careful.”

“Have fun, guys.” Josh smiled and stepped away from the car.

To Trent’s relief, Milton didn’t talk on the way home. As they pulled off the highway into the small town of West Banner, Trent could feel his his stomach doing flip-flops. He was expected to spank his partner. Even after the step by step demonstration, he didn’t feel ready.

“You’re instincts will take over. Don’t worry.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“It’s what every top thinks before he spanks his boy. Can I do this right? Will I do more harm than good?”

“You spank Sheldon a lot.”

“I do, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t still second guess myself.”

“You always seem so self-confident.”

“Tops are good actors.” Milton laughed. “You can do this. Josh thinks you can do this, and he’s not an easy man to impress.”

Milton pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, got out, and stretched. Trent climbed out and shut the door with a bang. A faint glow came from the third floor windows, and he could see lights from Sheldon and Milton’s bedroom. The back porch light cast a pale glow on the steps. Midges and moths hovered in the light’s glare, crawling over the glass.

“We’re home. Stop gawking. It’s not like you’ve never seen the house before,” Milton teased. “You’ll do fine. I’ll turn the TV up to give you privacy, and I’ll come up later and check on both of you.” Milton squeezed Trent’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em, cowboy.”

Trent climbed the three flights of stairs, his feet quickening as he closed in on his destination. Mace and Tilden were as Milton had imagined them. Mace was dressed in a pair of candy-striped pajamas, a gift from some relative that didn’t realize how ridiculous they looked. He was lying sideways across the big bed, his head in Tilden’s lap. Tilden was surrounded by a forest of papers.

Tilden looked up; his eyes were blue black in the light and very kind. “I see you guys made it home.” He bent down and kissed Mace’s forehead. “It will be OK. Milton understands.” Tilden untangled himself from Mace and shook out his long limbs. “I expect you two need to talk. I’ll give you some privacy.”

Trent sat down on the bed. “Sit up, kiddo. We have a lot to talk about.”

“I’m sorry,” Mace sniffled. “Is Milton kicking us out?”

“No.” Trent took a deep breath and plunged in. “I think Milton’s secretly pleased. It let him force his hand. He says I should top you, spank you. Is he right?”

Mace sidled over and climbed into Trent’s lap, rubbing his head against his partner’s shoulder. “He tell you about Josh?”

“Josh told me. He met us both at the hospital.” Trent took a deep breath. “I love you. I can do this. Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Trent felt hot tears on his shoulder. “I’ve got you now,” he said, repeating the words he’d heard Josh and Milton use. “Why am I going to spank you?”

“Because I lost my temper and threw a plate.”

“Why else?”

Mace fingered the buttons on Trent’s shirt. “Because I’m a coward and a wimp. I should have told you I needed this. Josh expected me to.”

“Josh expects the stars and the moon,” Trent said, thinking of his earlier conversation with him. "You are never a coward or a wimp. We just don’t communicate well. You never saw me climb on a bucking horse. You needed to share this with me. From now on, we don’t withhold our feelings from each other. I’ll spank you every time.”

“Yes, sir.” The words seemed to come naturally out of Mace’s mouth.

“Stand up now and drop your pajama bottoms.” Trent sat on the edge of the bed and spread his knees like Joshua had described. The tingling he felt in his own fanny was a good memory aid. Mace dropped over his lap, and Trent wrapped his arm around his partner’s hip. “You settled?”

“Yeah,” came the muffled reply.

Trent ran his hand down the soft butt cheeks. This was not the way he usually saw his partner. He raised his hand, trying to gauge the strength needed. The crack wasn’t as loud as it had been in the confines of the bathroom stall, but Mace hissed and wiggled. A red splotch rose on the white skin where Trent’s hand had landed. Trent quickly swatted the other side. Josh had gone from side to side and up and down, covering the whole area from hips to the top of the thighs. Mace bucked, trying to anticipate the next swat but made no effort to lever himself off Trent’s lap. He was crying freely. Remembering Josh’s spanking, Trent landed four hard swats to the the center of the reddened rump before rubbing his hand up and down the sweaty shoulders.  

“We’re all done, cowboy. I’ve got you now.” Trent lay back in the bed, pulling Mace over the top of him.

They were still lying tangled together when Trent heard a soft tap on the door and Milton stepped in. “You guys all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Milton perched on the edge of the bed. “What about you, Mace? You don’t need to hide from me. I’m not mad at you.”

Trent maneuvered his partner so at least a portion of his face was visible to the world.  Mace’s face was red and streaked with dried tears. He tried to bury it back under Trent’s arm.

“You’re not the first boy I’ve seen with tears.” Milton kissed Mace’s forehead and then turned and kissed Trent’s forehead. “You’ve both had a hard night. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

“I’m sorry,” Mace choked out.

“I know you are, and it’s all forgiven.” Milton again kissed both their foreheads. “I’m sure you’re both sore. Get some sleep.” Milton stood up and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

“Both sore?” Mace said, cuddling closer to Trent.

“Josh gave me a hands on demonstration. It was most educational.”

“Josh,” Mace snorted and start to laugh. “Your butt’s got to be killing you,” He said between the gales of laughter.

It was a great sound to hear his partner laugh. Trent tightened his grip and basked in the happiness, his own embarrassment and sore butt forgotten.

*****

“Trent, careful with that knife,” Mace scolded. “If I were in the kitchen in such a daze, you’d be looking for the wooden spoon.”

Trent jerked his hand back from the serrated edge. “Sorry, I was just thinking about that night after Josh spanked me. I don’t need another hands on demonstration.”

“You only got it once from him. What about us on this side?”

“I think he has more sympathy for subs than wishy-washy tops.”

“I think Steve might disagree.”

“Does he talk to you?” 

“No, but he talks to Mike and Luke, and they talk to Tilden who tells Milton, and of course I don’t like to miss any gossip.” Mace smiled, the dimples in his cheeks making him look like an apple cheeked boy of advertising fame.

“And he’s doing OK?”

“You better not let Milton or Joshua hear you asking about other people’s subs, or we’ll never get out of this Green Mountain thing. Now that they have Tilden roped in, our escape is precarious.”

“I know, I always thought Tilden avoided it by taking long trips to backwater villages in Russia that had no phone or internet.”

Mace laughed again. “I guess we can go on fishing trips in the wilds of Alaska. You know Jer asked me. He told me we didn’t have to join as a couple.”

“I got the same ploy from Milton. I think our days as free agents are number.”

“They wouldn’t induct us without our permission.” Mace sliced the bread that Trent had abandoned.

“No, but it doesn’t mean they won’t twist our arms.

“I know they will, especially since Tilden’s in league with them. Milton always kept quiet about the whole thing because it bothered Tilden.”

Trent shrugged. “They’ve been good friends.”

“In other words if they push hard enough, you’ll capitulate.”

“Yep.”

“I’m keeping you locked in the kitchen. There are way too many tops roaming around for comfort. Otherwise we’ll be Green Mountain Boys before you can say Jack Rabbit.”

“Hopefully they’ll be busy with their own partners and believe in the concept of privacy.”

“Tops, privacy? You know better than that, or have you resigned from the tops’ club? I bet  they’re like Milton and Josh —always in super dom mode.”

Trent laughed. “No chance for private bratting or pretending to be vanilla.”

“Yeah, and we’ve got a herd camped at the house when I went back for a change of clothes. Dark slacks and white shirts are required for us if you haven’t heard. At least no bow ties or white gloves.” Mace grimaced.

“And we just got rid of Frank and Caleb.”

“Pity Frank had to get back to work. He could’ve kept himself busy for a week interrogating all these people. Of course he’d never trust us with Mike again. I think he already thinks we’re questionable citizens.”

“I think that’s just him,” Trent said, looping an arm around Mace’s waist and stealing a quick kiss. “Mike likes him, and that’s what matters. We better finish setting up. They’ll be trickling in soon, and I want to keep them out of my kitchen.”