Steve's Tale 12

Steve’s Tale

Chapter 12

Simon zipped his coat and stepped off the train, clutching the paperback he had pretended to read on the trip up. He hadn’t been able to focus on the words; he didn’t think he even knew who the main character was or had the slightest inkling of the plot. He kept seeing the confusion on Miles’s and Steve’s faces. Simon was supposed to lead, and he’d led them all straight into a ditch. Miles’s temper would be short, but he could manage organizing tow chains and a truck or a flashlight to see the rim of the abyss into which Simon had fallen. Simon had faith in Miles, but Steve...the boy needed hard boundaries and consistency; Josh did it naturally. Simon could remember a time when he had set boundaries, but now it was as confusing as when Tilden started blathering in Russian. “Privet. Kak dela? Normal’no.” There seemed to be some requirement to know at least a few phrases of Russian. Steve knew a little; Luke and Mike were regular chatterboxes, and Miles had rolled his eyes and spoken in loud and exaggeratedly slow English when Tilden had started the Russian bit. This had made everybody laugh, and God, a good laugh had been needed after the never ending dinner from hell.

Put it behind you. Stop thinking about the failures, Simon scolded himself. He’d heard those lines more than a few times in the last couple of days. The Banner College Green Mountain Boys had descended on their house like a plague of locust. No, that really wasn’t the right analogy because it hadn’t been devastating or painful, the exact opposite actually. Trent and Mace had been first with a wheelbarrow full of food, so many casseroles that Simon had been reminded of the days surrounding a funeral. Mace had even made a joke of it, something about keeping Simon well fed for his own funeral. Mace had winked. “You’d best not tell Trent I said that. He’d take it that he’d needed to tighten his belt, square his jaw, and dust off his top guy. I prefer Trent to Trent the top but sometimes...” Mace had given Simon a crooked half grin. “Well, you know how it is. And this cowboy will tell you a guy all dominant can be hot and sometimes just a damn relief. Gordon’s not always a terror. Don’t tell Tilden I said that and don’t tell Milton.” Mace put an extra emphasis on the word don’t. “He’ll be all over us to join again. So far we’re the only successful holdouts.”

Tilden and Luke had been over also, supposedly to help Steve with his Russian homework, but Tilden had grabbed both Miles and Simon for a little chat and sent Luke to help Steve. Tilden was good for Steve and good for Miles. Somehow Tilden was both very settling and silently dominating at the same time. Miles bristled at Milton and Josh’s methods, but with Tilden he was relaxed. If Simon was going to have to top Miles, he was going to need to learn that trick. It wasn’t that Milton wasn’t a damn fine top, but with Milton the dynamic was practically visible on his skin. With Tilden, it felt like a normal guy until Mike popped out with a sir and sank to his knees. Neat trick.

Josh had also been over. Suddenly the minute electrical problem, which made the lights dim and flicker, and the need for additional shelves in the closet had been an emergency. Steve was pretty good at the carpentry stuff, but Miles would never be able to make a living with a hammer and nails. Josh had been incredibly patient with Miles’s ineptitude, only half swatting him when Miles had turned the air blue after a failed attempt to secure the new closest shelf and jokingly saying he was in no danger of being hired. Simon hadn’t been sure if Miles was relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t been taken to task. If Miles was a switch, Simon was going to have his work cut out trying to determine on which side of the line his Bohemian partner was standing. He wondered how Landon and Gordon did it. He’d seen Landon on the submissive side; he’d even taken him to task once in those days when he was still trying desperately to pretend he was over Sam’s death and ready to mentor a new top.

No time to worry about that now. Gordon and Landon were standing against the far wall, both in dark overcoats and ridiculous hats that went out of style twenty-five years ago. Simon could swear they both had suit trousers on. He was ridiculously underdressed in jeans, a pullover, and a battered jacket.

“Simon.” Gordon stepped forward and shook Simon’s hand. “It’s good of you to make the trip.”

As if he had any choice. Milton had driven Simon to the station this morning, and for one frightful moment, Simon had actually thought Milton might accompany him, like a deputy taking a prisoner to the dock.

Simon nodded. He could do the social niceties without prodding. “Thank you for meeting me at the station. It saves a lot of time.”

“Unless you wanted a long walk to settle your nerves, someone had to meet you. Vermont is not exactly replete with taxis,” Landon said with a laugh. “Of course today an endless trek might have seemed inviting.” Landon’s eyes were sparkling, and the deep crinkles around his eyes suggested that he frequently laughed.

“Boy,” Gordon said, stretching the word into a gentle warning and throwing a piercing stare at Landon.

“Sometimes he has no sense of humor. It’s a problem in you top types.”

“Landon, we are in public.”

“It’s never stopped you before. Are you getting shy in your old age?”

“Our car is out front,” Gordon said with frigid politeness. “Come, boy.” Gordon’s grip on Landon’s arm looked too firm for comfort. “Brat,” he growled as they cleared the station and prying eyes. His hand fell twice on Landon’s rump despite Landon’s attempt to dodge.

“Tops, no sense of humor.”  Landon rubbed his rump and seemed to intentionally jostle into Simon. “No one’s going to kill you today. You look as white as a sheet,” he said in an undertone as Gordon unlocked the car doors. “The rules haven’t changed.”

Simon slid into the rear seat, glad to be as far away from these men as possible. He almost flinched when Landon opened the opposite rear door. Simon had been sure Landon would sit up front.

“Home, James,” Landon said when Gordon had backed the big car out of the tight slot.

“Boy, do I need to find some place to pull over?”

“No, sir,” Landon said in a deferential tone, but his expression was anything but deferential. 

“I get it,” Simon said. Landon had to be posturing for him, trying to make sure Simon understood the rules they were playing by. Landon couldn’t always be this crazy. He’d survived how many years with Gordon, not a man to tolerate this kind of nonsense.

“I don’t mind getting spanked if it’ll make you feel like you’re not facing a firing squad.”

Simon tried to smile. He knew it had to look feeble. It wasn’t the corporal punishment he was worried about. He could close his mind and let the pain wash over him, and he knew Gordon was too good of a top to truly hurt him. It was the talking, the recounting of his mistakes, the postmortem on his errors that he dreaded.

“Hey.” Landon squeezed Simon’s knee. “You love those boys, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then this will be easy. We’ll sort out what will make the relationship work for all of you and get on with it. Getting right in your own head will be the first step. You broke the rules; you lied about it. We’ll sort that out and move on.”

Simon winced at Landon’s bluntness. He didn’t like to think of the withholding information about his relationship with Miles as lying, but of course it was. 

“It’s not fun to think of it as lying, is it?” Landon asked with a sympathetic smile that was genuine, not pasted on his face like a bad actor. “It was, and you’ve let it make you an ineffective top.”

 “You don’t know me.” Landon was right, way too right for comfort.

 “No, I don’t know you the way Miles knows you or the way Steve knows you or even the way David knows you, but I’ve talked to Milton who is beyond perceptive, and you broke up that near brawl I was having with that idiot plumber. You’ve probably forgotten, but I remember the tops who don’t turn tail when they realize I’m Gordon’s partner. You are a good top; I know it; Josh knows it, and Milton definitely knows it. You can’t keep secrets from that man, trust me I’ve tried. It ends badly every time; he morphs into a marauding top, and I long for the young man who used to sit at Gordon’s feet. You seriously don’t want to keep things from him, not if he’s decided you should be messed with.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily characterize it as ‘messed with,’” Gordon said. “Milton is a consummate dominant; he is also a teacher and a very compassionate man. If he sees either a dominant or a submissive struggling within the dynamic, he will offer his advice; he considers it his duty. Not everyone cares for his interference, but as a Green Mountain Boy, you have pledged to allow that interference. ‘I will listen to and value the advice of my peers, no matter their status in the dynamic. If at any time my safety, my partner’s safety or the fundamental structure of the relationship is threatened, I will obey the directives of the ruling council and those members appointed to assist me and be subject to all discipline as deemed necessary. If I feel the interferences are unwarranted or unjustified, I may lodge an appeal. During the time of the appeal, I agree to be placed on protective custody.’”

“This isn’t a formal complaint.” Formal complaints were for tops who hurt their subs, or forsubs who repeatedly flouted the agreement of their relationship.

“No,” Gordon said. “But it could have been, and I will not hesitate to make it so if need be.”

“Yes, sir.” Simon forced himself to be still, but he couldn’t stop the flush that he felt creep up his neck. He was a renegade top. He’d hurt those he loved, those he’d pledged to protect.

“Gordon, was that necessary?” Landon said sharply. “Simon didn’t harm his partner or Steve.”

“He lied. Without absolute honesty, we have no way to ensure that his partners are not ill-treated. It is unacceptable, and no amount of parsing will make it more acceptable. There are consequences for such actions.”

“Consequences? He doesn’t need to be shot. He didn’t hurt Miles or Steve.” 

“He did,” Gordon said simply. 

“You’re being unreasonable,” Landon spat.

“If you wish, I can pull the car over and become more unreasonable. Do not take that tone with me.”

“I’m not looking for that. I'm not bratting.” 

“You are shouting at me. We thoroughly discussed this matter earlier and came to an agreement. A public argument conducted in the most vile manner is not acceptable. That with you, my lad, constitutes bratting, and if you don’t want to give Simon a demonstration of my solutions for a partner bratting, I suggest you try a different tactic.”

“Fuck you.”

“You are far too old to not have improved your choice of vocabulary.” Simon felt the big car slow and pull to the edge of the road. Gordon turned, his dark eyes pinning Landon into the seat. “Do you want to do this in front of Simon, or should I ask him to step out?”

“He’s not an idiot. He knows what’s going to happen. He might as well have a ringside seat.”

“I’d rather not,” Simon said softly, zipping his jacket. They were fighting because of him. Simon didn’t want to see it. Landon was going to get thrashed. Gordon’s tone and look were beyond menacing. At the station, they’d been playing, but this was real, and they were both very angry and explosive. “I’ll be outside.”

Simon breathed in the cool air, moving quickly from the car. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to imagine it. He stared at the pine tree, hunching deeper into his jacket and shoving his hands into his pockets. This was his fault; he’d made them fight. Simon heard doors on the vehicle open and close, probably Gordon moving to the back to spank Landon, but Simon didn’t look. He stared determinedly at the tree, counting each individual needle.

“Simon, we’re done.” It was Landon, standing close, his shoulder nearly bumping Simon’s. His eyes were red, but the gentle smile looked genuine enough. “Sorry, it’s an old argument. I hate the protocol and the formal reprimands and everything that goes with it. Discipline and punishment shouldn’t be cold and distant. This argument gets ugly every time and very much my fault. Don’t look at me like that.” Landon wrapped his arms around Simon and pulled him into a tight hug. “It wasn’t awful. We know how to do it; we’ve had plenty of practice. And Gordon’s not all cold and formal with me. In fact, he goes for the hot and heavy with me.”

“Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be offering comfort?” Simon managed to stutter, still wrapped in Landon’s arms.

“Not necessarily.”

“You were just spanked.”

“It’s not like I’m twenty anymore. I knew the consequences of my actions.”

“He looked mad,” Simon said, pulling away and studying Landon’s face. This man had just been punished, and Simon guessed severely, yet he seemed totally at ease. 

“We were both mad. That’s not new in our relationship. I don’t always submit easily, and Gordon’s like shifting a boulder once his mind’s made up. He won’t leave it undone if I’m being difficult as he so properly puts it. At least you were safe to show that side. I came unglued with the head of the biggest investment bank in New York and his wife at a party once. I think they were convinced we had something seriously amiss with our bowels with the amount of time we spent in the bathroom.” Landon gave Simon a rueful smile and ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture that made him look years younger and far more vulnerable.

 “Boy,” Simon said tentatively, not sure how Landon would respond.

“Boy,” Landon repeated, grinned broadly, and added, “Top also. And I know it’s confusing. Just watch. Simon, it is OK,” Landon added, his eyes on Simon’s face. “It works for us and that’s all that matters. Gordon reads me well and knows where I’m standing, and I wouldn’t let him if he was wrong. I was bratting without a question, and I got what I deserved.” Landon punched Simon gently in the arm. “I’ll help you figure out Miles. It’s not as hard as it looks.”

“My expression is that obvious?”

“To me. I’ve done this a long time.”

Simon shook his head and tried to smile. Landon was a case. 

“It’s cold out here. Are you ready to go?”

Simon nodded. Landon climbed into the car in front of Simon and slid over, keeping the weight off his tender rear and arranging himself on his hip.

“I need to remember to take the paddle out of the glove box and lose it.”

“Landon,” Gordon growled.

“Yes, sir,” Landon said contritely, but his eyes sparkled with humor.

“Did I not make a suitable impression on you, my lad?” Gordon studied Landon in the rearview mirror.

“You did,” Landon said softly, dropping all the teasing tone in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, and it’s sorted,” Gordon answered just as softly. “And I understand your concern.”

“Thank you.” 

Simon turned quickly to look at the window when his eyes met Landon’s. He’d been eavesdropping on a very private conversation, a private reconciliation between two lovers.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to drive much farther. They climbed a steep winding road with sharp drops on either side. Finally they pulled up to a large two story building of pale stone.

“This way, Simon.” Gordon rested his hand on Simon’s back and guided him inside. They climbed a set of wide stairs and made several disorienting turns until they stepped inside a large room dominated by floor to ceiling bookcases and a roaring fire in the hearth. A dark haired man rose from the armchair and faced Simon.

“David!” Simon said and started to instinctively move to the older man who open his arms and enveloped him in a crushing hug.

“My silly boy,” David whispered in Simon’s ear. “You always did have a flair for the spectacular.”

“I’ve made a mess,” Simon mumbled, not removing his head from David’s shoulder, letting his face rub against the wool of his sweater and inhaling the familiar scent of David’s after shave.

“I’ve got you now. It’s salvageable. Simon, I do have a phone.” 

Simon tensed at the slight rebuke. He should have phoned. David had tried to call him several times when Simon had disappeared from the radar, when he’d wrapped his arms around Miles and kissed that scamp of a young top for the first time. Miles had been such a breath of fresh air: laughing, teasing, and with an easy authority in bed for such a young man. At least until Steve, Miles had known what he wanted. Steve had turned them all upside down.

“Never answering your phone wasn’t nice, wasn’t polite, and certainly wasn’t worthy of the man I know you to be.”

“Yes, David,” Simon said, his answer half muffled by David’s thick sweater.

“Come sit with me.” David guided Simon to the sofa and sat with their knees touching and Simon’s hand firmly in his. “Can we talk like this?”

Simon swallowed hard. He and David had talked a lot; David knew things that Simon hadn’t even admitted to himself. The conversations could be pleasant, two very close friends over a bottle of wine or horribly painful and embarrassing, but not physically painful beyond a moderate redness and sting. David had never spanked to create lasting pain; he spanked when he was disappointed or when Simon wasn’t honest. When he’d first lived with David, most of the conversations had been upside down with his butt exposed to the cool air. It had been easier to talk, not looking at those way too kind gray eyes, but it had been Aaron, David’s partner, with his quick laugh and insanely large collection of shoes that had finally bluntly told Simon to try the right side up approach.

They’d been shopping for yet another pair of shoes, and Simon had been trying to casually lean against the wall, pretending he liked to stand for hours, not that David had scorched his butt.

“Sit down. You’re making me antsy.”

“Just hurry up. You have enough shoes for three men.”

“And you’ve been wearing the same sneakers for three months. Sit down, and I’ll spring for a new pair for you.” Aaron had jumped up, flitted over to the shoe rack, and held up a bright orange pair of high tops. “These would look good on you.”

“I do not wear orange shoes.”

“Sit or you’ll be wearing orange shoes and green pants--a very colorful houseboy.”

“I’m not your fucking houseboy,” Simon hissed, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t overheard.

“You make David treat you that way. Are you sure you don’t want a daily ass paddling? Maybe you need more than that? Naked with cuffs and collar vacuuming our floor. You're a pretty boy. It’s a shame to hide it under clothes. Naked with orange shoes.”

“Stop. I’m not your boy.” Simon had swiped a tear of frustration from his cheek and turned away, wanting to flee Aaron’s brutal teasing, but having nowhere to go. He’d tried the run away thing once. It had taken him years to get out of that situation. He had a job now; he was in school; he could make it on his own.

“Si, don’t.” Aaron’s arm was wrapped around his waist, not at all discreet in a public location. “If you run, David will kill me. David loves you. I love you, you silly messed up top.”

Top. It was the first time anybody had ever called Simon that. He’d always been boy or worse.

“Come.” Aaron had grabbed Simon’s hand and dragged him behind the racks of permanent press shirts and packets of underwear with golfers and cute fuzzy animals to the men’s dressing room. Aaron pulled them both into a narrow booth. “Sit, you’re a top. Don’t you know?”

Simon had looked at Aaron, who was standing in that little cubbyhole, propped against the mirror between discarded pants and looking as dapper as ever, with undisguised disbelief. 

“You’re not a lousy submissive; you’re not a submissive at all,” Aaron had said in a clear, deep voice, so different from the flirting, silly tone he used with David. “That’s what I was trying to tell you back there. Why make David pull you over his knee? It’s not who you are? It’s not who you want to be, and David’s worried about hurting you.”

“He’s never hurt me.” David was kind; he was gentle; his hands always moved slowly. There were no surprises; he was safe.

“David wants you to grow up to be who you’re supposed to be, not force you into the role of the boy. You’re a lousy boy, and you hate to be spanked, and you flinch when you say sir to anyone but David.”

“David deserves to be sir.” David had put his arm around Simon’s shoulders that night in the bar and quietly but with deadly seriousness declared Simon his boy and walked him calmly between the ranks of groping hands and pretend tops to his car and to his house.

“Usually.” Aaron had smiled, not the wide grin he used with Simon but a friendly twist of his lips. “He gets too big for his britches sometimes, but that’s my job. That’s what a good sub does; he keeps his top humble. Talk to David. Right side up. We’re concerned about you. We thought you’d figure it out by now.”

Simon had tried the right side up approach after that, sitting across from David every morning at their narrow little breakfast table, their knees touching, usually with David holding his hands. He’d still gone face down if he hedged or fell silent, and God now he wanted upside down. He wanted the absolution; he didn’t want to see the disappointment, the hurt in David’s face.

“Look at me.” David’s hand was under Simon’s chin. “I will put you face down today, but now we will talk as two men, as two friends who care deeply about each other.”

“It’s hard this way,” Simon whispered.

“It’s hard, but it’s a challenge I know you can meet. It’s only the two of us. I will report an edited version to Gordon, Landon and Milton, but this is between the two of us.”

“Where should I start?” Simon desperately wanted to drop his eyes, to bury his head in shame, but David had a firm grip on his chin.

“When you realized that Miles was more than a young man whom you were mentoring and was becoming your lover.”

Simon ran his hand through his hair and tried to give David a confident smile. Simon’s smile and honest face worked with most people; they took everything at face value; only it had never worked with David.

“From the top, not the edited version. I know what that expression means.” David patted Simon’s thigh. “If you make me pull you over my knees I will use the paddle.” David reached across to the end table and pulled a small paddle from the drawer. “I’ve been told this one is particularly vicious because of its small size. Should I test it out?”

Should he just tell David yes? Simon didn’t have the courage to talk while looking at those kind and sympathetic eyes. But he didn’t want to go over David’s knee. David didn’t like to spank someone who never enjoyed it except s a romantic prelude, but it didn’t mean he refrained from doing an effective job. David would make Simon’s flesh sizzle from hip to thigh, and he’d still have the punishment coming.

“Pants down and over my lap.”

Simon didn’t argue with David. No one argued with David. Aaron could argue most anyone into a corner and debated for sport but said, “yes, sir,” to David when he heard that tone. Simon stood and with shaking hands fumbled with his belt. Had he forgotten the simple mechanics of a buckle?

David’s hand caught Simon’s wrist with gentle pressure. “We’ve done this before. I will not harm you. Do you need me to help?”

Simon nodded helplessly. He just couldn’t make his fingers work.

David gently captured both Simon’s hands in his. His hand wasn’t big enough to force them aside, but the pressure was anchoring. With the opposite hand, he worked the belt loose, unsnapped Simon’s pants, and pulled them down over his hips. “Over my knee.” He didn’t pull, but he didn’t release Simon’s hands either; he waited, his eyes gentle and expecting.

Simon shifted forward and dropped awkwardly over David’s knees, his head buried in the sofa cushions, his long legs trailing out behind him. He scooted around, desperate to find a comfortable position.

“Breathe.”

Simon gasped and sucked in a deep breath; he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. David’s hand was warm around his hip. David never caught Simon’s free hand or trapped Simon between his legs. Simon could easily leverage himself off the slighter and older man, but he didn’t. This had been by agreement. It might have been years, but the agreement was still in effect, and bizarrely David’s calm expectation that Simon would honor their arrangement brought comfort even in this vulnerable and humiliating position.

Simon drew in a deep breath as David lowered his boxers, flesh now resting against flesh. David still didn’t spank, nor did he speak; he waited. 

“I messed this up.” Simon didn’t remember consciously opening his mouth to speak; the words had just tumbled out. He shifted against the warm hand on his butt. “Miles was fun. He wasn’t trapped in the conventions. He made me smile again; he made me do things. I don’t want to or it’s not done that way didn’t mean anything to him. He made me feel good again.”

“Wanting to feel good is not shameful. You deserve that as much as anyone else.”

“I didn’t teach him to top. I made it hard for him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Simon yelped as David’s palm cracked down. 

“Try, Simon.” 

“I’m trying,” Simon panted as David landed a flurry of swats.

“I can make this worse. You saw the paddle.”

“Please,” Simon begged. He could feel the tears dripping down his cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you teach Miles to top? Why didn’t you tell any of us you were having a problem?” David asked relentlessly.

“I love Miles, but...”

“But what?”

“I wasn’t ready then. I didn’t know it would be so hard. I kept seeing... Oh God!” Simon’s body shook with sobs. David wasn’t spanking; he was rubbing Simon’s back in long firm strokes.

“You needed that,” David said very softly when Simon’s cries had settled to an occasional half choked sob and soft gulps. “It’s not a betrayal to love Miles, to love Steve. It’s not a betrayal for you to be a top; it’s who you are. You deserve to be happy. You’re a very good man. Josh wouldn’t have let you near his precious Steve if he hadn’t believed that. Josh and Gordon knew that first weekend when I brought that scared, wild-eyed kid home.”

“What do you mean? I’d never met them before you set me up with Miles.”

“You didn’t know you’d met them,” David said soothingly and with a trace of humor in his voice. “I don’t know if you remember all those guys who showed up the first weekend you were at my place. They were Gordon, Landon, Josh, and a very young Milton.”

“They got me out of it, away from Roger. He didn’t just release me?”

“No. Josh and Milton threatened to take great pleasure in breaking every bone in his body, and Gordon threatened to ruin him financially. We take care of our own,” David said grimly.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“I never really thought of it. You had a partner; you knew the other local couples. I never intended to hide it; I just never told you. I honestly can’t remember how you were introduced to them. You were in a bit of a daze. I suspect Aaron or I told you they were Green Mountain Boys, but back then it didn’t mean anything to you.” David rubbed the small of Simon’s back in deep slow circles. “There’s something else you should know. Landon and Gordon put that money in your account which they said was back pay from Roger. We wanted you to have a chance to start over, to not feel indebted to us. I also thought you might have had a few good times with Roger, and maybe wrongly I wanted to give you the best memories I could, memories that Roger had freely released you, not that we bludgeoned him into doing the right thing.”

Simon lay limply over David’s knee. It was all too much; he could feel the wetness on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he should be angry or grateful. It hadn’t been Roger who had been particularly awful; it was his friends. David had let Simon have a few fond memories. Every moment hadn’t been bad with Roger, but Simon had needed out, and without David, Simon didn’t even want to think about it. They had given him a new life, freely given it to him with no strings attached. “Thank you,” he managed softly. Simon felt David’s lips on the back of his head.

“We protect our own. Are you settled enough to listen now?”

“Yes, David. I’m sorry.”

“What for? Why are you sorry?” That was classic David. He always listened. He always picked up on and repeated the sore spot.

“I’ve made you dig me out again.”

“Simon, I’m not digging you out. It’s not a burden. I’m helping a dear friend. People help those they love; it’s not a burden; it’s a pleasure, and do not tell me you are not worthy of my affection.” David’s voice sharpened at the last statement. 

“Yes, David,” Simon said dutifully. David would keep hammering on him until he agreed. He’d written thousand of lines that said the same thing. He was worthy; he deserved good things to happen to him, but life kept punishing him.

“You have two beautiful young men, who are very in love with you. Love them back. Have fun with them. Celebrate life again. You’ve had more sadness and loss than anyone deserves, but don’t you dare think that’s your lot in life. I’ll let Gordon have a go at you with the cane if you continue to wallow in the abyss of worthlessness.”

“No, sir,” Simon said, trying to respond in kind to the slight tease he’d heard in David’s voice. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want Gordon and his cane; he does make beautiful stripes.” David paused, his hand still resting on Simon’s back. “But in all seriousness, we need to address that you didn’t tell us you were having problems and that you were not honest with us. I understand your motivations, but it is not acceptable. You are part of our family, and with family comes responsibility.”

Simon hung across David’s legs. He didn’t have anything to add. David was right; he’d violated the code.

“We’re not angry you fell in love with Miles. I spoke to Milton and Josh; they consider Miles a worthy young man, and they are confident you never violated your status as a mentor. I’m upset that you didn’t speak honestly of your relationship and because of that you are now struggling with two young men when you should be leading. I will punish you for your dishonestly. This is not about loving another top; this is not about flailing in the waters of a threesome. This is about your lack of truth. Lying is unacceptable.”

“I know,” Simon murmured into the sofa cushion. He had turned his head and rested it on his folded arms when he realized that David had no intention of letting him up. It wasn’t that David was restraining Simon, but David hadn’t invited Simon up, and Simon was well aware there was a penalty to pay. He may have been hiding from his responsibility, but he knew the rules.

“I am going to paddle you. I know you hate this. I know you never find pleasure on this side of the exchange, but this is about disobedience and punishment. You will accept the penalty and the absolution.”

“Yes, David.” Accepting the penalty wasn’t hard; it was accepting the absolution. With punishment came forgiveness or at least that’s what they preached. Aaron, with his computer background, called it a hard reset. Purge the memory and start again.

“Very well.”

Simon felt David shift. He must have picked up the paddle. The first blow snapped Simon’s head up. Simon always forgot how much this hurt. David covered the target area rapidly and efficiently. Simon already feeling fragile and exhausted was crying hard long before the stinging blows stopped. David would spank until he thought the lesson was learned, and Simon thought somewhat incoherently this was a long and hard lesson. His ass and thighs were on fire, and David kept snapping the little paddle down. All Simon could do was grip the now tear soaked sofa cushion and trust David would know when it was enough. David was a good top; he always knew.

“All done.” The paddle clattered against the wood floor. 

“It hurts,” Simon moaned. He didn’t care that he sounded pathetic. His skin was blazing, and his face was soaked with salty, sticky tears. 

“I know. You will not do that again,” David said with a finality that made his words unquestionable. You are too good of man to be lying and deceitful.” David slid Simon to his knees and cradled Simon’s head in his lap. “My little mess.” He kissed the back of Simon’s head. “We’re all square now; do you understand me?”

“Yes, David.” Simon struggled to get his head up, to look at those compassionate eyes. He knew he’d have forgiveness, more forgiveness than he could ever find in his own heart.

David brushed the scattered hair off Simon’s forehead and kissed the hot forehead. “You know you have my forgiveness. Do your forgive yourself?”

Simon swallowed the thick mucus in his throat. He couldn’t lie to David, not now, not with his incredible kindness. “I’m trying.”

“Do you need more incentive?” David asked sharply.

“No, please.”

“I only punish you for things that should be forgiven. If it were an unpardonable sin, I would not punish you, that would be abuse. You were still grieving. You made a mistake, and we pushed you too hard, making the mistake almost inevitable. All I care about is that you love Miles and Steve the way you should, the way you’re capable of loving.”  David wrapped his arms around Simon and gently kissed him on the lips. “You are a wonderful and precious man. Don’t you dare forget that.”

Wordlessly, Simon leaned against David, letting David’s strength sink into his bones.

“Up.” David pulled Simon up onto the sofa. “Stretch out here and rest. We’ll talk more later.” The kiss was brisk, a fraternal peck on the cheek that only hinted at the depth of the relationship. 

Simon closed his eyes, leaning into the hand that was slowly combing through his hair: solid, comforting, and always there.