Steve II
Steve leaned against the wall. He never could decide the color of the paint -- not quite gray, not quite cream, and definitely not white. It had been a horrible week. Monday he’d come apart in Russian class. Tilden had said something, correcting a verb ending or changing a case, and Steve had dropped his head and started crying. He’d never live that down, despite the reassuring noise all the tops were making. Tilden had to take him out of class, and Josh had left work to pick him up. Josh had been more than kind about the whole thing, talking soothingly about managing stress. Steve had felt about three by the time the day was over. Josh had tucked him into bed for the rest of the day and even carried him lunch and dinner on a tray.
Tuesday had managed to go OK except for the interrogation at breakfast on whether Steve would prefer to go to class or spend the day at work with Josh. They’d let him go to class, but Steve could see the reservations in Josh’s eyes. Tilden had taught the class in a circle that day, sitting next to the falling apart boy. He didn’t say anything out of the ordinary, or maybe Steve just hadn’t been able to recognize the Russian, but Tilden didn’t have to for Steve to know that the top was expecting a meltdown at any moment. He’d kept Steve so close that he might as well have hung a sign that said “freaked out submissive.” Tilden had tried to get Steve to talk, taking him home and settling him onto the sofa with a cup of tea.
It was Wednesday when the shit had really hit the fan, and what had landed him in this lovely corner. Thursday morning in the corner, maybe it was better than Monday morning in the corner, but Steve doubted it. Josh wanted Steve to talk, to explain how one college age boy could be such a royal screw up. Steve didn’t know what to talk about. Couldn’t they get that! He wiped a tear that was escaping down his cheek and gave the wall a vicious kick.
The sting on his ass was almost instantaneous.
“Do you kick the wall when you’re in the corner?”
Steve knew the answer; a quiet no, sir, and Josh would sit back down and start to read the paper again.
“Steve.”
“Why in the fuck can’t you leave me alone?” Steve swung around. Anger, desperation, something boiled over, and a fist, his fist, connected with Josh’s chin.
The reaction time was quick. Old men weren’t supposed to move that fast. Steve was down over Josh’s knees, his butt exposed to the breeze, his free arm pinned behind him. He’d hit Josh. Oh, God! Shit!
Steve fought. God he fought, but he had no leverage. He ended up in a worse position, his legs trapped between Josh’s. Steve collapsed limp and spent. Why wasn’t Josh spanking him? There was last night’s incredible disaster, and now Steve had hit Josh.
“Are we finished?”
Josh’s hand was warm on Steve’s back, the palm moving in slow circles. Steve could see the wood floors and the faded blue of Josh’s denims.
“Can you talk now? You’ve had a rough time this week. We can’t help you if we can’t talk.”
“You’re going to spank me, just get it fucking over with.”
“Steve, I spank you if I think it will help. Will it help? I don’t spank you only because I want to or only because I like it. I’d rather take you in my arms and hold you, but I’m your top right now, and I have certain responsibilities. The minute I brought you home, Jer and I accepted a role in your life. Maybe not the role you’d like us to have, not the easy role.” Josh rubbed Steve’s back. “You’re a beautiful boy. I’d love to do the easy thing, but you’re a submissive under my protection. I ache when I look at you like this, but I can’t. It’s wrong. I’d be violating a sacred trust.”
“I want it.”
“We all want things we can’t have. Six months from now, a year from now, would you still want it? Wanting and having are two different things. They’ll be someone for you.”
“It’s not fair.”
Josh rubbed the shaking shoulders, letting Steve cry uninterrupted.
“Are you going to spank me?” Steve choked out as the tears started to subside.
“You did pop me in the jaw.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, kid. I want to put you back in the corner to think. Do you think you can do that?”
Steve shivered. He wanted to tell Josh that he wanted to stay right here, against those warm thighs, encircled in Josh’s arms. He didn’t want to be alone in the corner. Josh never left the room, but it wasn’t the same.
“I’ll stay with you.” Josh pulled up Steve’s boxers, but left the young brat’s jeans pooled around his ankles. Josh bent down and extracted Steve’s shoes from the tangle of pants legs. “Stand up and step out.”
Steve followed the instructions, feeling numb. He let himself be led back to the corner with the same unnamed paint color.
“I’ll be right here.”
To Steve’s surprise, Josh folded himself to the floor and sat with his back leaning against Steve’s legs.
“You’re going to sit there?”
“I said I would stay. Don’t talk in the corner.”
Steve didn’t know how long he stood in the corner. The winter sun hadn’t changed positions, but it seemed like eternities, his knees hurt. He drew a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “Please, can we talk now?”
“Sit with me.” Josh pulled Steve down, putting his arm over the boy's shoulder. “It’s been a terrible week. What can I do to make it better?”
“Let me stay.” Steve cringed at the pleading tone in his voice.
“I’m not throwing you out, Steve, sweetie. When you find the right top, you’ll want to leave.”
“But what if I never do?”
“You will. I’ll probably have to beat off suitors with a stick. I’ll never abandon you. When you leave, it’ll be because you want to. You don’t have to test my will by being as difficult as possible. I can assure you that I’m more stubborn than you are. Nothing you do will make me or Jer run away. You’re stuck with us.”
Steve leaned into Josh. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend Josh was his for real top, the gentle glide of the fingers through Steve’s hair, the warm breath against his cheek.
“Don’t zone out on me. We have a lot to talk about.”
“You mean last night,” Steve groaned.
“We can start there.”
“I was bad,” Steve said softly.
“You’re never bad; you just didn’t make good choices.”
“Really not good.” Steve laughed bitterly.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up, kid. That’s my job. Tell me what happened.”
Steve leaned against Josh. It had been bad enough the first time; he didn’t want to rehash the tired facts. He’d turned twenty yesterday. It should have been a milestone, no longer a teen; instead, he’d ended up getting dragged home in disgrace. He didn’t know why he’d opened the peppermint schnapps and taken a large slug out of the bottle. He didn’t even like the taste. He would have gotten away with it once, but he went back for a second slug, and Gordon caught him. Steve had thought his stomach would hit the floor. Surprisingly Gordon hadn’t killed him on the spot. The formidable dominant had grabbed Steve’s arm, landed a booming spank, and dragged the disgraced boy off to Josh. Everyone had looked at Steve when he’d been dragged back into the library by his elbow and shirt collar.
Jer had known before Steve’s foot was across the threshold that there was something horribly wrong and had surrounded Steve in his strong arms, shielding Steve from prying eyes. Tilden had somehow pushed the both of them into the kitchen and handed Steve a cup of steaming tea, Tilden’s solution to all problems according to Luke.
“Styopa, whatever it is it can’t be that bad,” Tilden had said, pushing Steve’s hair back and kissing his forehead. “Drink the tea.”
“Gordon caught me drinking?”
“What and how much?” Tilden had asked in a level voice. He hadn’t been upset. He’d knelt by the chair Jer had wrestled Steve into and rubbed Steve’s knee. “Josh is like Milton; he’s seen everything. He’ll know what to do.”
“I’m not supposed to drink.”
“Neither are Luke and Mike, but it doesn’t always stop them. We have a discussion. I’m sure you’ve heard that word.” Tilden had smiled, his eyes impossibly calm. “It gets uncomfortable for a bit, and all is right with the world. Did you drink enough to be sick?”
“I don’t think so. A couple swigs of peppermint schnapps.”
Tilden had made a face. “Horrible stuff, but you should live. Drink your tea.”
Tilden had gone off somewhere, probably to plead for leniency because nobody came and dragged Steve upstairs to face a belt or a cane. Steve had hid against Jer, who with his usual steadiness had closed his arms tightly, but offered no reproaches or scolding. Steve had burrowed deeper into Jer’s chest and sipped his tea.
Sometime later Steve had heard footsteps, but he hadn’t looked nor had he listened to the murmured conversation that the two partners were having over his head. Steve hadn’t cared; he’d known he was a dead man. It was just the time of execution that had yet to be scheduled.
Instead of putting Steve on his feet, Jer had slung the young man over his shoulder in an improvised fireman’s carry and had walked to the car with Steve pressed tight on Jer’s chest and shoulder. Steve couldn’t remember much of the rest of the evening, but it had been Jer who’d done everything. He’d carried Steve upstairs and cajoled a near catatonic Steve into pajamas and under the covers. Josh had vanished until this morning’s order to stand in the corner.
“Steve, I asked you what happened. You knew drinking would get you into a world of trouble. Were you trying to scare off the two tops that Gordon brought down?”
“I didn’t like them,” Steve mumbled. “The big guy was boring, and the other guy had three strands of hair plastered over his bald spot. He looked ridiculous.”
Josh chuckled. “OK. I think we’ve established you like tops with hair. Sweetie, you know we’re not trying to force you on anyone. We’re just trying to give you options.”
Steve nodded and toyed with his shirt cuffs.
“So you hate bald men and decided the only solution was drinking. I saw you with Landon. Was he bothering you?”
“He was trying to get me to dance.”
“Was that wrong?”
“I can’t dance.”
“Sweetie, he would have taught you.”
“He’s impatient.” Steve drew his legs in and hugged his knees.
“If Landon’s bothering you, tell Gordon.”
Steve made a strangled noise in his throat and rocked slightly.
“Gordon won’t eat you alive.” Josh ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You can always tell me. Landon actually listens to me, and he really listens to Milton. I have seen you talk to Milton.”
Steve wanted to say, “not by choice” or “only with the threat of imminent death.” Milton caught him and made him talk. Blade did OK with the man, and Sheldon even sassed Milton, but Steve preferred no interaction.
“Milton can be gentle.”
Steve wiped a tear from his cheek. Why was he crying again?
Josh pulled Steve close. “None of the dominants there are any scarier than I can be. You just know me better.”
Steve tried to make a noise of agreement, but nothing seemed to come out. He didn’t agree, but he wanted to stop talking about it. Josh liked them. Earlier in the evening, Milton had caught Steve’s belt loop and pulled him into a quiet corner. Steve had jammed his hands into his pockets to hide the shaking and desperately thought of anything but the dark, piercing eyes in front of him, swallowing the nausea that had risen in his throat. Milton had been suspicious, clued in by Steve’s nervousness, but he’d finally let Steve go with birthday wishes.
“They’re concerned about you. They know I caned you last week.”
Steve swallowed and licked his lips. He should talk to Josh.
“Hey, I don’t want to do all the talking here.” Josh turned Steve around, making the young man look at him. “Gordon’s after me to have you spend the next long weekend with him and Landon. He thinks you need more exposure to other dominants without me as a shield.”
Steve fought back the panic. Don’t let Josh send him to Gordon.
“I’d only do it if you agreed.” Josh kissed Steve’s forehead. “And I think you’d rather walk on hot coals barefoot than have a nice weekend with Gordon. Am I right?”
Steve nodded. Josh always knew.
“What do you feel when Gordon or Milton tries to talk to you?” Josh waited for an answer. He had this trick of sitting so still that Steve always started squirming. “Wide-eyed looks, shrugs, and nods aren’t going to cut it with me today, kid. Try,” Josh said when Steve still hadn’t filled the silence with words.
Steve swallowed, licking his lips.
“Steve, I’m not going to tolerate silence. Do you need to go back in the corner?”
“No. I can’t talk to them.”
“Why? Was Gordon mean to you last night? He’s the one who caught you.”
“No,” Steve said softly. “He grabbed me, handed me off to Jer and Tilden, and went and found you.”
“He won’t do more than you can tolerate. Gordon’s many things, but he’s good with young and scared submissives, even gentle. With dominants—now that’s different.”
“Are you in trouble with him because of me?” Steve asked, ducking his chin against his chest.
“Hardly.” Josh smiled. “Gordon and I understand each other, but he’s worried about you.” Josh rubbed Steve’s shoulder. “What can we do to make this easier for you?”
“Keep me,” Steve whispered.
“Steve.” Joshua blew out a soft breath. “Both Jer and I love you, but you can’t be our partner. It wouldn’t be right.”
“I don’t care that you’re older.”
“It’s not only that.” Josh kissed the top of Steve’s head. “We took you in as mentors. I won’t violate that trust, and neither will Jer. In the long run, we wouldn’t be right for you anyway. You need someone that enjoys your things. That music you play drives us both out of the house.”
“I can change it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to. You need to be Steve, twenty-year-old college student, not saddled with two oldsters one step form the retirement home.”
“I’ve never felt like this before,” Steve mumbled into his knees.
“You’re living with two people who care for you deeply; we’re not blood relatives; we’re not lovers. We’re some other category. Maybe Milton and Tilden understand it. They live together, closer than any two brothers I’ve ever met, but they never touch each other sexually. They love each other, but they’re not lovers. For us it’s the same. Trust me; you will find someone to love who will be your lover.”
“What if I never find someone?”
“You will. You’re only twenty by a few hours.”
“What if I fall in love with someone who’s not a top?” Steve didn’t know any single doms; he didn’t know any dominants period who didn’t have a decade or more on a college freshman.
“It’s my job to worry about the details. That’s how I earn my keep,” Josh said with an easy smile.
“Luke and Mike fell in love. What if Tilden hadn’t come along?”
“Tilden did. That’s like asking what if Wednesday didn’t come. I think Jer has a name for those kinds of questions. Hypothetical improbability or something.”
“Josh,” Steve whined.
“Yes, I knew what you meant.” Josh ruffled Steve’s hair. “It’s a question without a known answer. The same question can be asked about you. What if I hadn’t grabbed you that night when you went after Mike? Would you have found out you were a submissive? Maybe. Maybe not. One day at a time.”
Steve nodded and rubbed his hands up and down his bare legs. At some point, Josh had covered him with the throw off the sofa, but it was still cold with his pants in a crumpled heap across the room. “What are you going to do about last night?”
“What should we do about it?”
Steve hunched into his knees. This was Josh being his most kind. Steve didn’t want to look at Josh, he knew Josh’s eyes would be soft, his brow furrowed, and he’d shake the still thick gray hair off his forehead.
“So what do we need to do about it?” Josh asked again.
“I’ve been difficult all week.”
“You’ve been unsettled.” Josh snaked an arm around Steve and tugged. Steve tumbled against Josh’s solid chest. “Unsettled young submissives get difficult, and that’s the top’s fault as much as the sub’s. What do we do about it?”
“Are you going to cane me?”
“No,” Josh said quickly. “I think that’s too much for this. When did I tell you I’d use the cane?”
“Lying. Breaking the pledge.” Couldn’t Josh get this over with? Steve hated this minute discussion of any wrongdoings. The pain that was coming would be bad enough; the talk only prolonged the agony.
“Drinking alone wasn’t something I wanted you to do, but I don’t see it as a pledge violation, and Gordon said that it wasn’t. He just snorted and told me to keep a better eye on my young lad.”
Steve flushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about what Gordon says to me. We go way back. What will help you?”
Steve hesitated, burrowing tighter into Josh’s chest.
“You have something on your mind.”
“Will you short leash me? Mike says it helps, makes him calm down,” Steve said, letting the words tumble out of his mouth, not daring to look at Josh.
“Never be afraid or embarrassed to ask me for something.” Josh rested his chin on Steve’s head. “I’m here for you. I’ll do it for two weeks, and then we’ll see. You’re going to feel like you’re living in my back pocket. You will stay within arm’s length of me or another dominant, and you do nothing without my permission.”
“What about class?”
“I’ll let Tilden know to keep you close.”
“He did that anyway yesterday. He taught the class in a circle and put me right next to him.”
“He likes you; he wants you to be happy, and you’re not right now. He probably wants to make sure I’m not killing you either.”
Steve could tell from the sound of Josh’s voice that he was smiling. “Are you going to spank me?”
“Do I need to?” Josh’s voice was mild, nothing more than a gentle inquiry.
Shit, Steve thought. Don’t ask him; this was supposed to be the top’s decision. He’d never tell a top he wanted spanked.
“Steve, why do I spank you?”
Because he was an idiot. Steve didn’t voice that answer. He knew what kind of reply that would bring. “Because I break the rules,” Steve said hesitantly.
“Why else?”
Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.” He could think of a hundred answers along the lines that Josh was the dominant, and that was what tops did especially with hopeless submissives. All those answers would earn Steve a talking to at best and probably a flaming red ass.
“Steve, I spank you because you're a submissive, and it works for you. Sometimes I use it to change your behavior, sometimes to remind you of your status, and sometimes merely because it makes you feel better. Someday your own dominant will use it to bring you both sexual satisfaction. I can't do that now. Will I discourage you from drinking if I spank you, or will I just be making you sore?”
“I don’t like to be spanked.”
“I know you don’t, or at least sometimes you don't. There is a part of you that needs and wants it, or you wouldn't let me. What else happens when I spank you?”
Steve didn’t want to talk. He wanted this over. Josh insisted on talking, dragging unwilling words from Steve’s mouth. Steve was the submissive; he got spanked. After the first time, it was just something that happened. Josh doing it was OK. That was insane; spanking shouldn’t be OK, but with Josh it meant being part of something, and Mike and Luke got spanked without world class meltdowns.
“How guilty are you feeling?” Josh brushed Steve’s hair back, kissed his forehead, and seemed to be studying his eyes.”
Steve flushed under the scrutiny and tried to bury himself in Josh’s shirt, out of sight.
“Very,” Josh said with a friendly rumble in his throat. “I spank you to help you deal with the guilt. It looks like you need to. After I spank you, I want you to let this go. The short leash is to help you, not punish you, and I’m going to put you in the corner every morning and evening because I want you to think about what it means to be a submissive and want you want.” Josh’s voice took on a brisk tone. “Now up you go.”
Steve let himself be pulled up and guided over to the sofa. As always, Josh didn’t pull Steve over his knee; Steve had to get in place himself, squirming uncomfortably as he felt Josh reach across to the end table. Did they keep a paddle there? In the living room where everyone could see it. Steve tried to remember what was in that drawer: a pack of cards, a birding guide with a broken binding, candles, and a wooden trivet for hot plates. It was the trivet, Steve thought, wrapping his fingers around Josh’s leg. He’d seen Jer’s expression when he’d pulled it out of the drawer for the fondue pot.
Josh dropped Steve’s boxers and landed the first spank. Steve jerked across Josh’s knee. This always hurt far more than he expected. The tears were leaking from Steve’s eyes before Josh had completed two circuits. Steve felt Josh’s weight shift, and Steve tightened his fingers on the older man’s jeans. The trivet was a paddle. What crazy people kept paddles in easily findable locations? The one upstairs was buried under old ledgers in the bottom drawer of Josh’s wardrobe. Steve had only found it one boring weekend when he’d been prowling around.
Steve cried as the wood snapped against his ass. Dignity was way overrated. He clutched Josh’s knee and howled. It didn’t last long, maybe six or seven spanks, and Steve found himself being hauled up to lie on the sofa, his head resting on Josh’s thighs, Josh murmuring something and carding his fingers through Steve’s hair.
Steve lay limp, not trying to stop the flow of tears. Josh and Jer considered crying normal. They never tried to stop Steve.
“Are we all clear on this issue?” Josh asked quietly when Steve’s tears had lessoned.
“Yes, sir,” Steve said, his throat, aching.
“Good. It’s all over now.” Josh tucked a pillow under Steve’s head. “Stay put. I’ll get you a drink and a cool cloth.”
Steve wondered if the order to stay put was part of the new short leash thing. Josh usually only reassured that he’d be right back. Steve was too exhausted to care. He wanted to shut his eyes and sleep. The cool cloth and water were welcome, but more welcome was that Josh folded himself onto the floor and stayed, combing his fingers through Steve’s hair and talking reassuringly.
Steve woke to the smell of baking bread, and the sound of voices in the kitchen. He stretched and experimentally rubbed his hand over his butt. It was sore but not impossible. Steve wriggled into his pants which had been folded neatly on the coffee table and drifted toward the kitchen.
Tilden and Josh were drinking coffee; Josh’s long legs loosely crossed under the table. “I told you he was alive,” Josh said with a small smile at Tilden. “I didn’t maim him.”
“Are you OK?” Tilden’s eyes were kind, a deep blue in the kitchen lights.
Steve nodded, still standing uncomfortably in the doorway. From the bread, he guessed that either Mace or Trent had dropped by, and now Tilden was here. Everyone was worried about him.
“Steve,” Josh’s voice was soft, but there was a hint of sternness. “I thought we talked about a short leash. Where did I ask you to stay?”
Steve rubbed his foot on his pants leg. “On the sofa. I forgot.”
“I know you did, and you’re not in trouble. It will take practice. Now come here.”
Steve crossed the kitchen floor, still nervous that he might get a swat, but instead Josh swung Steve onto his lap.
“This is where you wanted to be, isn’t it?”
Steve squirmed. He loved being in Josh’s lap, Josh’s well worn shirt rubbing against Steve’s cheek, but Tilden was here.
“Be still. I want you here, and do you really think Tilden has never seen a red eyed boy in a top’s lap before? He lives with Milton.”
Steve flushed but collapsed against Josh’s chest, enjoying the comfort. Josh always knew what Steve was thinking. Steve had never known anyone who could do that before Josh. He’d never had a friend that close and certainly not a boyfriend. He saw his mom at holidays, and his dad, well, had been his dad, not unkind like some of the stuff he’d heard about Luke’s dad and not vanished like Mike’s but disinterested or maybe as Josh had put it after their thankfully short Christmas visit unable to relate. Josh had tried to explain that Steve and his family saw the world through two totally different lenses. “Your dad’s not trying to be cruel; he just doesn’t understand. It’s as foreign to him as if you started speaking Latin and worshipping Apollo”. Josh always understood even sometimes when Steve would prefer a harmless evasion.
“Good boy. Mace brought some bread; it’s probably cool enough to cut.”
Josh and Tilden didn’t need to ask if Steve wanted any. They knew he would want some. Tilden stood up and opened the cabinet doors, looking for plates. He cut a large piece of bread, setting the heel aside and giving Steve and interior piece.
“I assume you’re like my partners and don’t like the ends.”
Steve nodded.
“He can have coffee,” Josh said. “Lots of milk and enough sugar to crystallize it.”
Steve sank against Josh’s strong body and let the conversation of the two tops wash over him. He thought they might be talking about him, but Steve didn’t care. He didn’t have to do anything; Josh had everything under control. All he had to do was be good, not that he’d mastered that simple idea.
The tops chatted for several minutes, long enough for Steve to finish his coffee and the sweet, rich bread, before Tilden stood again, pushed back Steve’s tangled hair, and kissed the boy's forehead. All the tops did this; Steve couldn’t remember ever being kissed like that, maybe as a small child but not as a teenager or adult. Steve rubbed his forehead; he could still feel where Tilden’s lips had touched, marking him somehow. It was like being branded as one of them. Milton always did it with that strange half smile of his and all too knowing eyes. Gordon had even done it last night; Steve had tried to scramble out of the older top’s grasp, and Gordon had made a strangely reassuring rumble in his throat and murmured gently that among friends Steve didn’t need to hide.
“Be good,” Tilden said, picking up his satchel. “We’re just down the street if you need anything.” The smile was genuine with such obvious caring and concern that Steve couldn’t help but smile back.
“Thank you.”
“Always, Styopa.” Tilden’s hand brushed across Steve’s hair, and he smiled again. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try.”
Tilden and Josh did some kind of silent top ritual of departure full of nods and raised eyebrows and then Steve heard the quiet thud of the front door being pulled shut.
“How are you feeling?” Josh asked, spinning Steve in his lap, so Steve couldn’t escape from the dominant’s gaze.
“Better, I think,” Steve said slowly. It was insane. His ass was still warm. It was beyond tingling, not quite truly painful but not comfortable either, and he was sitting in another man’s lap, and he felt better.
“You look better, not like you’re going to jump out of your skin.” Josh traced his finger around one of Steve’s eyes. “You still have dark circles. I haven’t been keeping a close enough eye on your sleeping habits. Bed by ten.”
Steve groaned, but he didn’t protest. He was tired, and Steve had experienced Josh’s reaction to protests. Josh would just move bedtime to late afternoon.
“Let’s get you dressed.”
Steve looked down at his pants. His frayed jeans with several holes would never pass Josh’s inspection for outdoor wear.
“I’ve got several jobs I need to check on. You can come with me.” Josh slid Steve off his lap, kissing his forehead in much the same was as Tilden.
Upstairs Steve was gently pushed until he was sitting on his bed. Josh’s expression and curt nod made it abundantly clear that Steve was to sit and be quiet. Josh rummaged through Steve’s chest of drawers, making looks of serious disapproval at the crumpled shirts and mismatched socks before pulling out a pair of jeans and a rugby shirt.
“If the state of your clothes is any indication, I’ve seriously not been keeping a close enough eye on you. We will fix this later. Now shower and change.”
The hot water rolled off Steve’s shoulders. It stung a little on his ass, but almost perversely it also felt good, a reminder of Josh. Steve stroked a soapy hand down his butt cheeks, feeling the warmth. Almost unconsciously his other hand wound to the front, and he gasped as the warm fluid spurted against the shower wall.
“Steve, did you drown?”
Steve snapped his head up and turned the shower to brutally cold to hide the telltale flush on his cheeks. Sloughing the icy water off himself, Steve jerked on his clothes.
“Are all the towels in the laundry?” Josh asked when Steve exited the bathroom.
Steve shook his head, sending ice cold water droplets off his soaked hair.
“No hot water either. That was a mighty long time for a cold shower.”
Steve flushed and looked at his feet.
“Oh,” Josh chuckled. “You got distracted. At your age it happens, but it still doesn’t mean you should freeze and drip all over the floor. Go get me a towel.”
Steve came back, a large fluffy towel in his hand.
Josh pulled the wet shirt off Steve and rubbed briskly over the young man's body. Steve leaned into Josh, rubbing his torso against the older man. Steve’s hand dropped to the area between Josh’s legs. Josh grabbed Steve’s wrists and pushed him away, keeping the boy at arm’s length.
“Stop.”
Steve would have jerked away and fled, but Josh’s grip was too strong. Not fully understanding himself, Steve burst into tears.
“Oh, my sweet baby, we can’t do this. It wouldn’t be right. We’d hurt you, and you’re much too gorgeous of a kid for me to let that happen.”
“This hurts,” Steve sobbed. He jerked harder against Josh. He had to get away. He’d just made a pass at a man who wasn’t the college kid whom Steve was supposed to want, a man who had a partner, and who was beyond mature in any sensible college student’s eyes. Josh was looking at Steve with far too kind of eyes. Why couldn’t Josh be angry, jealous, or at least not be so morally upright?
“Shirt.” Steve felt himself pushed in front of Josh, his wrists trapped inside Josh’s much larger hand. Josh released one wrist only long enough to drag a shirt over Steve’s head.
“Let me go,” Steve pleaded. He was humiliated; Josh had to hate him now.
“No. You’ll run, and then I’ll have to find you.”
“I can’t be here; I’m in love with you.”
“You think you are,” Josh said softly and much too kindly. “I’ve shown you something about yourself that you didn’t even know existed. It’s natural for you to be infatuated with me. I’m your first dominant.”
“My only dominant.”
“No. You’ll have your own. You’re a gorgeous boy. It would be so easy for me to give in,” Josh said wistfully, “and wrong beyond measure. I love you Steve, but I can’t love you the way you want. I’d be taking advantage of our relationship.”
“Why?”
“I’m your mentor, not your lover to start.”
“It used to be with mentors; I know the history.”
“Acceptable relationships in society change. Women use to be property, and you could beat your slave to death. None of those things are right. It’s not right for me to violate the trust that we extended when we took you in, and Jer is a dean and a teacher. He can’t have even a hint of impropriety around him.”
“Tilden has Luke and Mike.”
“It’s different.”
“Why?” Steve heard the whine in his voice, and he didn’t care. He’d managed to stop crying, but he could still taste the salt from the tears on his lips.
“I took you in as your guide, and you accepted the relationship as we defined it. I didn’t take you as my lover. If I had, you would have rightly run screaming to the nearest authority.”
“I would’ve been wrong.”
“No, you wouldn’t have, Steve. I’m more than forty years older than you. I love you, but I can’t love you that way, and if you can’t accept that I need to find another dominant to sponsor you.”
“No. Please.”
“This isn’t healthy for any of us. I think you’d be happier with someone else. Stay with Milton or Tilden until we can find another dominant.”
“No,” Steve shouted. How had he managed to fuck this up so awfully? Josh always wanted Steve honest, and the first time he was honest Josh threatened to throw him out. Steve should have kept it hidden. Josh’s arm would be over Steve's shoulder instead of keeping him at arm’s length, Steve’s wrists trapped in an iron grip.
“Easy. Deep breaths. I have to do what’s best for you.”
“Fuck you! It’s not best for me. You just want a temptation out of your sight. All this crap about a top’s honor and integrity, and as soon as I push your comfort zone, you want to run. You are so full of shit.”
“Steve, quiet.”
The sound of Josh’s voice sent a shiver through Steve. It was cold, clipped, controlled anger and power ready to be unleashed.
“I know you’re angry, confused, and even embarrassed that you showed all this to me. It’s a big risk to make a sexual advance at someone, an exposure of self, and I rejected you out of hand. I get all those things, but you don’t talk to any human being the way you just talked to me. I don’t care how angry or hurt you are.”
Steve dropped his head against his chest, the tears again dripping down his face. He wanted to wipe savagely at his face, scrub the memory along with the tears away, but his wrists were still trapped in Josh’s large hand. It was Josh who wiped Steve’s face, a gentle rub of his flannel shirt against Steve’s cheek. The work shirt that smelled faintly of wood and paint despite the detergent and fabric softener.
“Steve, put your boots on. We have work to do.” Josh’s voice was quiet, authoritative, but the flicker of anger that had surfaced earlier was gone. He released Steve’s wrist. “Hurry.”
Steve blindly pulled on his boots, jerking the laces tight. They were real construction boots with steel toes rated for dropping equipment and oil protected leather, the same boots as the guys holding the slow signs. Josh’s large hand wrapped around Steve’s neck and guided him to the truck. Steve huddled against the passenger door, feeling as awkward as he had the first few days he’d found himself living with these two men, trying to sort through the endless rules and terrified every time Josh’s eyes landed on him. The ride was silent; Josh hadn’t even switched on the radio, and Steve didn’t dare speak. The casual conversations and banter they’d had about music or the dismal state of the college basketball team were gone.
The first stop was a new apartment complex on what only a few years ago had been farmland. A remnant of a barn still stood in the undeveloped section. Josh crawled over the steel girders, measuring and talking with his site manager. Steve had tried to sidle off to stand out of the wind against a concrete wall, but an almost silent snap of Josh’s fingers had driven Steve back to the top’s side. Steve’s teeth were chattering by the time they finished their inspection or whatever Josh was doing.
Back in the truck, Josh reached behind him and tossed a wool blanket at Steve. He still hadn’t spoken, and Steve longed for something besides the long silences. Steve reached to turn on the radio but was thwarted by a pointed look and a quick shake of Josh’s head, which tumbled the top’s silver hair into his eyes, making him look years younger.
Josh drove through some drive-thru where the smell of doughnuts and bitter coffee wafted from the glass window and past the acned teen shoving drinks and crumpled napkins into the hands of harried drivers. Josh handed Steve a lukewarm coffee and a pile of sugar packets.
Steve didn’t recognize the next stop until they were well into the neighborhood of winding roads and tree filled landscape. They were going back to Tim and Garth’s place. Today no one greeted them at the door despite Josh ringing the bell several times. Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, sorting quickly through what to Steve looked like a disorganized jumble, and fitted one into the lock.
“Boots,” Josh said as they stepped inside, the beautiful floor stretched out in front of them. It was the first word Josh had said to Steve since they left the house.
“Why?” It wasn’t that Steve didn’t know or that he wanted to be cantankerous. That was Josh’s word when Steve was being stubborn about little things. He just wanted to hear Josh talk, not feel quite so alone.
“You don’t need to ask that. Boots.”
Steve wasn’t going to risk saying more. That tone of voice meant don’t mess with the dominant; that the sub had already gone too far. Even Jer backed off when Josh spoke as if every word was an effort in not shouting.
Josh kept Steve ahead of him as they went down the stairs into the basement. Josh had obviously been working on the area. All the old carpet had been removed, and a ceramic floor had been laid. The walls had been painted, two a deep red, the rest patterned to give the effect of stone. New modern light fixtures were everywhere.
Josh pointed to an empty corner. “Sit.”
Steve wanted to protest that he was capable of helping. The floor didn’t look inviting with his freshly spanked butt. Steve sank down gingerly, trying to keep most of the pressure on one hip. It was no more comfortable than he’d imagined; the hard floor pressing into his reddened ass no matter how he squirmed. Steve tried to lie down, but he was stopped with a growled command to sit.
Steve didn’t know how long he sat on the floor, fruitlessly shifting his weight back and forth. He hadn’t put on his watch, and there wasn’t clock. Josh never looked at Steve; his attention was entirely on the wood in front of him that he was cutting and sanding. That was Steve’s job when they worked together to do the sanding, to beg Josh to agree the boards were smooth enough before the wood shaving’s covered Steve’s ankles.
“Please, can I help?”
The only response was a quick shake of Josh’s head. He didn’t even look around and make eye contact with Steve.
Steve was brooding, imagining scenarios in his mind where he crept upstairs and drove off with the truck. In his fantasy, he could see the keys dangling in the truck, but in reality he was sure Josh had pocketed them. He always locked the truck. The sound of a door slamming above roused Steve from his fantasy.
Tim came tripping down the stairs, dressed in skin tight leather shorts and a shirt with more holes than cloth. Steve stared at the dark mascara under Tim’s eyes and the gold hoops that were dangling from his ear.
Josh didn’t blink at the get up. “Go change.”
“I have my boots,” Tim said, waving a foot at Josh.
“Change.”
Tim stuck his tongue out. “You got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, grouchy bear.”
“Is Garth here?” Josh said, not looking up from his work.
“No, he had to make an emergency trip to Bonn this morning. I’m all alone.” Tim wiggled his hips, and a slow seductive smile crept over his full lips.
“Change,” Josh said, still not looking up from his work.
Tim pouted, his full lip sticking out so far that Steve wanted to laugh. “Grouch. What did you do to him this morning?” Tim asked Steve. “He’s always Mr. Conservative, but I can usually get more of a conversation than single word monologues.”
Steve shrugged. “All I got was sit.”
“Tim, now.”
Tim raised his eyebrows and grinned. “How close am I to getting spanked when he uses that tone?”
“Beyond close. His hand would already be connecting with my butt.” Steve didn’t know why he was telling these things to Tim. He didn’t freely discuss his lifestyle with Mike and Luke who knew the score, but there was something so outrageous about Tim that he was almost infectious and incredibly easy to talk to.
“Cool.”
“One part of your anatomy is not going to be cool if you push much harder,” Steve said.
Tim laughed. “I like you. Understated. So why are you over here on the floor?”
“I screwed up.”
“Bad?”
“I don’t know.” Steve drew his knees up and hugged them.
“What’d you do?”
“Made a pass at him.” Steve felt his face turned red, and he looked away. Why had he just said that?
“I’d think he’d be flattered. You’re fucking gorgeous. Hell, I make a pass at damn near everything on two legs. You remember Mitch. He’s turned me down so many times that he needs an accountant to keep track.”
“It’s different,” Steve said softly. “He’s my mentor; it’s a sacred trust.”
“Bullshit! He’s a good looking older guy and you’ve been living together doing this 24/7 submissive training shit that he thinks is so wonderful. He’s trying to get Garth to give it a try, says I need more structure. The cane tracks you had were pretty cool, but every time I see you, you look freshly spanked, and sitting on a sore ass under his icy disapproval is way non cool.”
“Timmy, change.” Josh said in a hard voice.
“I’m having a conversation, and you’re not my top.”
“Don’t brat around me if you don’t expect me to top, and don’t try to look all innocent. You know exactly what I mean. I’m sure you don’t dress that way when the plumber comes.”
“He’s fat with two kids--uninteresting.”
“No fun to bait,” Josh said dryly. “I’m going to be very clear here. You can go upstairs and entertain yourself alone in that lovely costume, or you can come back downstairs not dressed like you’re trying out for a role as a hooker. Do you understand me, boy?”
“Yeah, I get it. He must have forgotten his meds this morning,” Tim said to Steve, his blue eyes flashing merrily.
It took Josh only three long steps to reach Tim, and he had the boy turned around, trapped, and bent over before Tim had reacted to his presence. Josh’s hand fell with a resounding crack against the back of Tim’s thighs. It was only ten, but they were on the thighs and hard from the sound and the gasps Tim was making. Josh pulled Timmy upright and kissed his forehead. “I mean what I say. Do you understand?.”
Tim nodded. He hadn’t started to cry, but his eyes were moist, and his face was red.
“Boy, I asked you a question.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. Go change.” The swat the Josh landed on the leather clad rump wasn’t hard, more a friendly pat in the right direction.
Steve watched Tim bound up the stairs. He seemed unfazed by the impromptu spanking. Steve would have been mortified if a strange top had grabbed him and swatted him. Milton had threatened once or twice, and that was bad enough.
“I wonder what he’ll try next,” Josh said with a slight smile. “He’s playing, and I didn’t touch him.”
“What?” Steve said, not sure if Josh was talking to him or to himself.
“This is play for him. You’ve seen Sheldon with Milton. Timmy needs an outlet right now. He’s out of his element, and his partner’s gone. The problem is I don’t know how hard. I haven’t seen him with Garth, but I think that boy has a bit of a pain kink.”
“Are you talking to me again?” Steve asked shyly, keeping his eyes on his boots.
“Steve, come here.”
Steve stood up hesitantly and moved toward Josh. Was he going to get spanked again? Josh hadn’t said he couldn’t talk to Timmy, and Josh didn’t seem angry.
Josh caught Steve’s shoulders and pulled him close, kissing the top of the young man's head. “I overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. It’s like Tim said for you young guys flirting comes as naturally as breathing. You’re finally starting to figure out your sexuality, and I’m the only dominant you know well, but you can’t do that with me. I need to touch you without it being sexual.” Josh paused and took a deep breath. “If I were thirty I’d let you. You’re my type, difficult enough to be interesting, and you’re handsome, my boy. It’s beyond wrong for me to act on those feelings. You have to accept that, and if you can’t, I need to find you another dominant.”
“Don’t send me away.”
“It might be the best thing for both of us.”
“Don’t.” Steve could feel the dampness on his cheeks.
“We’ll see. I’m going to have you talk to Milton tonight. I need to have another top who understands what’s going on; I need his advice.”
“He scares me.”
“Nothing you tell him will surprise him. Trust him a little. Or would you rather talk to Gordon?”
“No.” Steve leaned into Josh, relieved to have the big man’s hand on the back of his neck. “What about Tilden?” Steve asked. He could cope with Tilden. He wasn’t Josh, but he wasn’t terrifying.
“The Pied Piper of bratty subs.” Steve could hear the smile in Josh’s voice. “I messed up today, and Milton will have no trouble keeping me in line. Tilden’s a fabulous top and a wonderful man, and you’re right to trust him, but I think he’ll be too nice to me. I don’t have that concern with Milton.”
“He won’t punish you?”
“No, but he’ll speak his mind. He deals with Blade who flirts with anything on two legs.”
“Blade’s obnoxious.”
“Has he done anything to you?”
“Not really. Stupid things. Steals my books and stuff. I told Tilden, and then Blade called me a tattletale. Tilden made him stand in the corner.”
“He’s very young and very confused. I think his heart’s in the right place. It’s hard in the beginning.”
Josh and Steve both looked up when they heard footsteps on the stairs. Tim tripped down the stairs, a long white train trailing out behind him.
“January isn’t the season for weddings,” Josh said.
“I changed. I even have a veil for proper modesty.” Tim dropped the white cloth over his face.
“You, boy, are angling for a real spanking.” Josh pulled Tim close and turned him for access to his butt. Steve flinched as the first swat fell. From the sound, he could tell it was hard. Repeated swats landed hard and fast before Josh pushed Tim back toward the stair.
“Jeans, shirt, boots, nothing too tight. So do you think he’ll get it right this time?” Josh asked after Tim was out of earshot.
“I would.”
“Yes, but you would never have tried a wedding dress either. Somehow I don’t think cross dressing appeals to you,” Josh said with a chuckle.
“You swatted him pretty hard.”
“Yes,” Josh said simply.
That seemed to be all Josh was going to say on the matter. Steve looked over at the pile of wood that Josh had been working on. “Can I help?”
“Come sand.”
The next few minutes passed in quiet, companionable silence. Steve sanded the grooved edges that would be the cabinet doors and the fronts of future shelves. He’d almost forgotten about Tim or decided the crazy sub had experienced enough of Josh’s spanking when Tim appeared on the stairs dressed in oversized jeans and a flannel shirt. On Tim, it looked like as much of a costume as the black leather shorts or the wedding dress.
“Come help, boy,” Josh said.
Josh must have shown Tim over the last few days because he knew what to do, or Tim had some experience in carpentry. Tim tried several times to start a conversation with both Josh and Steve before giving up with an exasperated grunt.
“Talkative bunch today. You’re more fun than a barrel of monkeys.”
Josh grunted. They really didn’t get all that much work done. It seemed Josh spent more time watching them than actually working. “That’s good for today,” Josh said, long before all the wood was cut. “When’s Garth coming home?”
“Next week some time. He said he’d call,” Tim said with exaggerated nonchalance.
“Do you have anyone you check in with?”
“I’m an adult.”
“Yes, and you’re a bored and alone sub in a city where you don’t know the scene. You’re staying with me a few days.”
“You can’t do this. You have no right.”
“You gave me that right earlier with the wedding dress and the lovely shorts. You know I’m a dominant, and you knew exactly how I would respond to open and flagrant bratting.”
“Shit! He’s for real.” Tim looked at Steve with a half smile on his lips.
Steve wasn’t sure if Tim was truly questioning, teasing, or maybe even a bit afraid. Steve had been terrified and stunned the night Josh had grabbed him with a speech very similar to the one he just gave Tim. Steve suppressed a sudden urge to answer “yep” the way Mace did and just nodded.
***********
Josh had let both boys ride in the back seat of the truck. Steve wasn’t technically within the touching distance they’d talked about when Steve had requested a short leash, but Josh couldn’t imagine Steve jumping from a moving vehicle, and strangely enough Tim’s unsettledness calmed Steve. Maybe it was finding someone who was more confused or more insane that Steve found settling. Jer’s steady demeanor was wonderfully calming, but for a sub like Steve it probably seemed to be an unattainable goal.
Josh pulled into Milton and Tilden’s drive and shut off the truck. The cab was quiet without the throb of the diesel engine. “Come on, guys, I’ll introduce Tim around. Josh threw his right arm over Steve and his left over Tim’s shoulders, an innocent gesture when both boys were together. Steve looked pale and desperately like he wished he was anywhere else. The boy was surprisingly timid around Milton, even though, in Josh’s opinion Milton was no more intimidating than Josh.
“Do you live here?” Tim asked
“No, friends.”
Steve was being stingy with his words; a sure sign the kid was nervous. Josh took them around back and pushed open the kitchen door; a door that was never locked until after ten. The kitchen was empty except for a pile of books strewn across the table and Sheldon’s jacket and boots tossed across the floor, blocking the path. Josh knew Milton did some sort of consequence thing involving a complicated point system for Sheldon’s detritus of life, but it never seemed to break the boy of the habit, only make it more manageable.
“Take your wet stuff off here. The floors are original beyond the kitchen.” Out of habit and maybe a little sympathy for Sheldon now sharing Milton with his younger brother, Josh hung Sheldon’s jacket and set Sheldon’s boots along with his own on the shoe rack before leading the boys upstairs. Josh could see Sheldon still in his dress shirt but in jeans and barefoot sprawled across his and Milton’s bed listening to something on a portable music player.
Milton was in his study, one eye on a stack of papers in front of him, the other on a crying red haired imp in the corner. “Problems,” he said, picking up on Josh’s expression.
“You look like you’re having some of your own.”
“Nightly routine. We’re really getting way too good at this. What do you need?”
“This doesn’t look like a good time.”
“Joshua, for you to come over with a stranger in tow, you have a problem. I’ll send Blade to go find Tilden with your two. Blade, come here.”
Josh was struck by the resemblance to a young Sheldon, especially with the tear stains on the cheeks and the still glittering green eyes. Milton hooked an arm around the boy and ruffled his hair with the other hand.
“You might try not to get spanked at least one night of the week. It would be quite a novelty.”
“Sorry.”
Milton smiled. “I know, and you’re forgiven. Go take our friends to Tilden and stay close.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Steve, stay close.” Josh saw the understanding in Steve’s eyes and also the gratefulness that Josh hadn’t announced that Steve was short leashed.”
“So what happened?” Milton asked when the submissives left the room.
“You make Gordon look tactful,” Josh spluttered.
Milton looked comfortable, straddling the chair, his elbows resting on the desk. “Josh, I’ve known you a long time.”
“God, no wonder Steve’s terrified of you. When did you become toppiness personified?”
“I’m not that eighteen-year-old kid you first met at Gordon’s feet, and that’s not who you want today. You want a dominant and a strong dominant.”
Josh let out a breath in a long almost silent sigh and jammed his hands in his pocket before planting a hip on the arm of a nearby chair. “It’s Steve.”
“I figured. What happened?”
“He’s in love with me and Jer.”
Milton was quiet a moment, pulling on his beard. “And do you two return the same feelings?”
“I can’t. It’s not right.”
“I didn’t ask about the morality of the condition; I asked if the feeling was mutual.”
Josh crossed and then uncrossed his legs. “Jer mentioned something last week when I caned Steve. I thought it was more sympathy for a caned fellow submissive.”
“Jer’s half topping him. I’ve seen him, and it’s obvious Steve adores Jer. You’ve talked about Jer’s feelings toward Steve. What about yours?”
“I see you’re going for the jugular,” Josh said with a forced half smile.
“I’m a Gordon trained top. What do you expect?” Milton smiled, softening the lines in his face. “You asked me to do this,” he added softly.
Josh rubbed his hand down his trousers. Milton was good at this, a combination of hard and demanding with enough sympathy that the accused didn’t abandon hope. “I thought I had it under control until today.”
“What happened?”
“Steve touched me, inappropriately, and for a moment I thought I wasn’t going to be able to control my arousal.”
“You did?”
“I grabbed his wrist and pushed him away.”
“He’s an appealing boy. Do you want him?”
“I can’t have him.”
“You know in a submissive we call that kind of answer an evasion.”
“Did you have sexual fantasies about Gordon?”
“Yes, alternating with fantasies about the perfect murder, and we weren't celibate. It’s harder with Tilden. Less now that we are both partnered.”
“I was never sure if you had.”
“No, close.” Milton’s voice was tinged with wistfulness. “I’m not always sure we made the right choice.”
“Tilden’s not a switch.”
“No, but is it impossible for two tops to be together?”
“No,” Josh said quietly. “Not impossible, but harder I think.”
“Are you in love with Steve?”
Josh took a sharp breath. The question was hard, sharp, and not unexpected but still sprung suddenly. “I love him, but I don’t think I’m in love with him--at least not yet. I could be.”
“Have you told him?”
“I tried to today. He was very angry.”
“Did you punish him?”
“Not for the anger. I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to touch him then. I was afraid it would go too far.” Josh stared at his hands. He’d never seen Milton like this: sharp, direct, the master interrogator. Josh considered Milton a friend, but he could see and empathize with the fear some submissives felt around Milton. Here Josh was an experienced top, sitting in a comfortable study surrounded by the trappings of a college professor feeling completely exposed. Gordon had chosen well when he’d picked Milton as his successor.
“There are many choices beyond corporal punishment. Is Steve feeling guilty about his actions when you said no?”
“Yes, but...”
“You did something?”
“I didn’t talk to him. I shut him out.”
“Gordon would cane me for that,” Milton said softly, never taking his dark brown eyes off Josh. “I’d deserve it to.” For a split second there was a wry smile on Milton’s face before it turned serious. “Maybe you’re lucky I don’t have that sort of authority over you.”
“You will.” Milton was slated to become president of the Green Mountain Boys next year.
“Yes, Sheldon and I, but I still don’t think I would punish you. Punishment is to train, to teach, and to help someone deal with guilt. I don’t think it would do any of those things with you.”
“Does it for you?”
“I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions,” Milton said with a smile. “The ritual helps me. I learned that outlet early with Gordon. It’s not the same for me as it is for Sheldon; I can’t totally let go, but I can share with Gordon. You’re already sharing with me. For me to punish you would be punishing you for forms sake. I won’t do that. It would be cruelty.”
“I’m not sure I should thank you for this kindness. It would be easier to hand off this entire problem to you, and you’re not going to let me wiggle out.”
“No, because you’re too good of a top. You’d never forgive yourself.”
“So what do I do?” Josh said, running his fingers through his hair.
“What I do every day. Look at the mirror, ask how I got myself into this mess, and promise to do the best I can.”
“That’s helpful,” Josh snorted. “Heal yourself top. No wonder Gordon spanks you.”
“I can be a challenge.” Milton smiled, a quiet half smile. “Punish Steve for being unpleasant, not for loving you. He can’t help that part.”
“I don’t have much experience with non corporal punishment. I always felt silly giving Jer lines or an essay. He’s the one with the PhD.”
Milton pulled a small brass key out of his top drawer, walked over to his shelves, and unlocked a lower cabinet. He pulled a slim volume from the shelves. “The three of you should read this together.”
Josh took the small book. It smelled of dust and age and the binding was pocked and stained. He opened it to the title page, spotted and yellowed. My Life, My Love,” Josh read.
“Read it. I’m not telling you what it’s about. Have Steve write an essay on it every week. It will help. I think it will help you all. It's a mentoring relationship; something perhaps in which we all become entangled.”
“Are you going to test us?”
“If you get smart with me, I will.” Milton raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to be difficult?”
“Never,” Josh smiled, relieved by the slight tease in Milton’s voice.
“Has Steve ever had intimate relations with another man?”
“I don’t think so. He’s not very forthcoming with that information. I know he’s never had a real relationship, and his parents were certainly not a good model. He’s a late bloomer; I’m not even sure he fully realized he was gay until I grabbed him. He’s never had any models. I’ve met his dad,” Josh said, knowing Milton would pick up on what was left unsaid.
“You would be a very gentle lover.”
“You’re not helping,” Josh said ruefully.
“I’m not going to give you an absolute. You’re all grown men, and I trust both you and Jer to never take advantage. I’d recommend a cooling off period of three months and then reevaluate. And hopefully Steve will be swept off his feet by a nice young top in the meantime.”
“We can only hope. You know any?”
“Not off hand, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Tell me about it.” Milton smiled. “Tilden went from zero partners to two and participated in a TV show, my quiet and decorous friend on a reality program. I have Sheldon’s brother, and I haven’t killed anyone yet. I assume you want me to run a little interference for you.”
“I hate to ask.”
“Josh, you’ve helped me more times than I can count. I’ll talk to Steve, but I’m not sure he’ll talk to me. I usually can’t get more than a word or two out of him. Hang in there; it will work out.”
“Is that top optimism or your real thoughts?”
“Josh, I’ve known you too long to try to jolly you along with false platitudes. You’re a good and sensitive dominant. If Steve stays with you, it will be because it’s the right thing; it won’t be because you took advantage of a young boy’s innocence and sense of dependence. He could do a lot worse than you.”
“I’m his mentor. I’m more than forty years older.”
“I know all those things. We’ll see, but you’re not evil if it happens. Now who’s the stranger you had with you?”
“Timmy. He’s Garth’s sub.”
“The man with the playroom and the out of control sub.”
“Right. Garth went out of town and well...”
“It wasn’t safe for Timmy to be alone.”
“At least not prudent, and he’s so outrageous that Steve actually talks to him.”
“A buffer. Smart.” Milton walked over, brushed the hair from Josh’s forehead, and kissed him.
Josh looked up, surprised by the kiss and surprised by Milton’s heavy hand on the older top’s neck.”
“You needed a little reassurance,” Milton said, answering the unasked question. “It really will work out. Now go rescue Tilden from all the hordes and send Steve up. I’ll be gentle with him. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
Milton looked at Josh and then gave him a cockeyed grin. “It’s what I do—super top to the rescue. Sheldon’s promised to get me a cape. Do you think I’d look better in red or blue?”
“Are you going to have tights too?” Josh said, laughing hard with the sudden release of tension.
“Real men don’t wear tights.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Now you’re bratting, and it doesn’t become you. It puts my world view all askew. Go before I have to do something.”
“Thanks,” Josh said, suddenly becoming serious.
Milton nodded, but his quiet smile was warm and gentle, before he laughed again and made shooing motions with his hands. “Get.”
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