Steve's Tale 7

Steve’s Tale

Chapter 7

Jer flipped through the papers on the table. They were supposed to be sorted by class but as usual they were jumbled together in an untidy heap. He ought to know how to do this by now. He pushed one pile more to the edge of the table, sending half of it cascading onto the floor. It was a good thing Josh was off finishing that basement playroom remodel, or he’d be all over Jer. Jer would have to get the papers sorted again before Josh got back. With Steve off with Miles and Simon all the time, Jer had found himself suddenly back under Josh’s scrutiny.

Jer turned to look at the offending pegboard with his keys. They looked so innocent all nicely labeled. If only everyone understood how devilish the process was. Despite the pegboard, Jer had managed to misplace a set of house keys, and Josh had ratcheted up the pressure. Jer now had to ask him directly for the keys and return them to his partner’s hand. Steve had looked wide-eyed at the whole arrangement, and all Jer could do was shrug. They’d done this before, but it had been years ago. Josh seemed unperturbed at Jer’s regression and had given his partner that slight smile that meant he’d take care of it and it was no problem.

Jer almost had all the papers graded. This wasn’t a class he usually taught, but a colleague had developed pneumonia, and it seemed only fair that Jer take the class as he had the lightest teaching burden. Most of his fellow professors hated teaching introductory courses, but Jer enjoyed it. He liked the chance to meet the newest students, and the ones who wouldn’t be in the sciences. Teaching was still fun after all these years, but grading test papers was not on his list of favorite things, especially test papers when students weren’t doing well. He added more red to the student’s paper. Physics was a required course for all those aspiring medical professionals, and like organic chemistry, it crashed many students’ aspirations on the shoals of reality. He hoped this student didn’t have her sights set on medical school as he filled the paper with blood red corrections.

Papers finished, Jer puttered around the house. It was too quiet. Steve was off with his two beaus; they were going to a basketball game, which meant he’d come back hoarse from shouting and smelling like spilled beer, cheap hotdogs, and rewarmed pretzels. Steve liked those two men; it was obvious. He no longer hung back when the doorbell rang but instead charged to the door and threw it open. Last week he’d come home sporting a string of beads around his neck and a more than obvious hickey. Josh had grabbed Simon and gone off out of earshot. Jer imagined there had been a serious top to top chat on what was permissible. Simon had looked unruffled, but Simon was an experienced top and used to covering his emotions. Josh wasn’t to be messed with in protect the young mode.

The door banged wildly, and Jer heard the sound of three voices. He smiled to himself. He’d just been lamenting the quiet; he wouldn’t have to worry about that now. Simon wasn’t loud, but Steve and Miles made up for him. The two young ones usually went to the basement to play video games or to shout, laugh, and chase each other. Jer had played some video games with Steve. It was never that noisy: only the simulated explosions and the background music.

“You’re back early.”

“Simon and Miles have a meeting,” Steve said, skidding into the kitchen. “I’m starving. Is there anything to eat?”

“Remember we have an early dinner tonight. Trent and Mace will be disappointed if you don’t eat. Rumor is that Mace made that coconut cake you like so well. I’m sure Simon and Miles fed you.”

“We did,” Simon said with a slight smile and caught Steve as he wrenched open the refrigerator door. “Tell Jer about lunch.”

“Miles likes weird ethnic food,” Steve started excitedly.

“I’d hardly call Indian weird. It wasn’t like they were serving ant eggs.”

“Never watch TV with Miles. He watches the most revolting cooking shows. Ant eggs. That’s all he’s been able to talk about the last week. Gross!” Steve said too loudly.

“Brat,” Miles said with a grin. “You were supposed to be studying. Next time I cook I’ll make sure to prepare the ant egg special.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“We’ve exhausted this topic. Do you want juice?” Simon asked.

“Sure.”

Jer admired the ease that Simon had diverted an overexcited Steve. The rebuke had been mild enough not to deflate Steve’s buoyant mood, and the diversion had been quick and successful. Simon knew how to do this top business. Jer only hoped that Miles would be as good. He’d been baiting Steve. Some couples bantered that way, but Steve wasn’t ready for that. He needed clear and precise lines. Jer could handle them slightly fuzzy now; he’d been doing this a long time, but he was also a realist. He’d never be a Mace, and neither would Steve. Steve was in the Sheldon spectrum; Sheldon, Blade, and Steve together were combustible. Josh and Milton knew this instinctively, and Jer suspected Simon did as well. Jer hoped Miles would learn. Josh said Miles’s instincts were good and that he wasn’t the half disorganized disaster he appeared but a young top with little used skills who had adjusted to living as a near submissive with Simon. 

“He’s not had any practice. He’s not as irresponsible or as outright flaky as he appears,” Josh had said to Jer when they were talking in bed. “Without a submissive, Simon’s indulged Miles. He’ll make sure Miles flies right, and Steve can cope. He’s not the same boy we brought home or even the same boy who innocently and blindly followed the Zath boys into folly. Steve understands his needs as a submissive, or at least as much as any kid his age without a partner can. Stop fretting,” Josh had said with a private smile.

Jer hoped Josh was right. Miles galloping around the kitchen hardly looked like a top. Simon felt like a dominant, but Miles felt like some beast with whom Jer wasn’t yet acquainted. Jer couldn’t remember Milton ever behaving like that, but Gordon had been breathing down Milton’s neck. That was enough to freeze anyone in his tracks. If Josh thought this was OK, Jer would have to live with it.

Josh was so calm about it. Admittedly he watched Simon and Miles with a carefully guarded facade of neutrality, but Jer knew Josh was monitoring all three of them for any sign of distress. He questioned Steve to the point of annoyance. Steve responded with rolled eyes and less than careful language which resulted in a swat or a close up view of their paint job. Jer knew that Josh also met Simon and Miles once a week at the bar. These meetings were a closely guarded secret, and Steve would be infuriated to discover that three tops were plotting over his private life.

“Miles, Jer, do you want juice?” Simon asked.

“No thanks,” Jer said. Miles just shook his head.

Simon poured a big glass of orange juice; he’d been over enough times that he knew which cabinet to find a glass without asking. He tousled Steve’s hair and kissed his forehead. “I’d do more,” he said with a wink, “but Jer’s standing over my shoulder, and there are dangerous pots within easy reach. I wouldn’t want him to think we were getting fresh. After he finished with us, he’d report us to Josh. I don’t think we’d survive that.”

“Behave yourselves, and it won’t be an issue,” Jer said with a smile. “I think we’ve been remarkably tolerant.”

“Stop it!” Steve’s face had turned crimson, and he slammed his juice glass down on the table. “I’m not an exhibit at the zoo.”

Miles caught Steve with surprising proficiency as he stormed away from the table. “Don’t. You know the old folks have nothing to talk about except the latest shuffleboard tournament. We have to allow them to have a little fun. You’re tough enough to live through it. You’re not a total baby submissive; I, on the other hand, am a baby top and need careful handling and continual observation.”

“That’s for sure,” Simon said, grabbing Miles by his neck and shaking him lightly. “If I don’t keep my eyes on him every minute he threatens to turn vanilla and find a nice boyfriend who’s never heard of a paddle.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m so vanilla.” Miles let go of Steve and wiggled his way out of Simon’s grip.  He playfully swatted at Simon who grabbed his wrist and spun Miles around, trapping him against the counter.

“Boys,” Jer said, “no fighting.” He shook his head in mock anguish and disgust. “Don’t be messing around in my kitchen. I’ll sic Josh on you.”

“Please don’t. I’ll be good,” Miles said with an impish grin. “He scares me all the way down to my little toe.”

“You look so scared,” Simon joked and caught Miles long braid. “A little more fear might do you some good?”

 “Never!” Miles said with a wide smile, but Jer thought he detected an edge on Miles’s voice. Jer couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and he’d tried to explain it once or twice to Josh without success. Josh dismissed it as age difference, but Josh wasn’t a submissive. Subs read tops differently than other tops. Miles was uncomfortable even scared about something. Was he having second thoughts about Steve? Jer didn’t think so; the affection and easy banter between the three of them seemed genuine, and Miles could hardly keep his hands off Steve. At least the physical attraction was more than real, and Steve seemed equally attracted to Miles with his lean wiry build and long legs.

Simon with one hand still on Miles’s braid pulled Miles around to face Jer. “We’ll be going before we shock you any more. We’ll see you later tonight, Steve.”

“You’re having dinner at Milton’s?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” Miles said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “We’ve been ordered to attend. It’s one of the perks of thinking you’re a pretty cool dude. I have to behave around Milton and friends. Simon’s threatening death by all sorts of barbaric means if I’m not a good little top.”

“And I see it’s making a big impression. We’ll see you later before Jer calls security on us. ‘Security to kitchen supplies. Security to kitchen supplies. There are two psychotic individuals masquerading as tops on the loose.’”

******

“You do know you have to put the keys in the ignition for the car to start?” Miles said, reaching across toward the ignition.

“Miles,” Simon said softly and placed his hand on his younger partner’s knee. “Are you OK with doing this? You’ve been on edge all week, and your behavior with Jer was questionable.”

“You mean watching you get eviscerated by those know it all Green Mountain tops? No!”

“You don’t even know Milton.”

“I don’t need to know him. I know what he stands for.”

Simon tightened his grip on Miles’s leg and shook it gently. “Josh has been OK, hasn’t he?”

“He has to be. He has a young sub without a home who he’s having lecherous thoughts about.”

“Miles.” Simon didn’t hide the scold in his stinging tone.

“Don’t Miles me. You know he wants that boy in bed. He’s old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

“He’s also an enormously kind and generous man. He might not be your style, but he’s taken very good care of Steve and never crossed the bounds of propriety. I’m sure Steve has more than once thrown himself at Josh. For a kid who is overwhelmingly as much of a young and unsure submissive as Steve, Josh represents safety, love, and an anchor in a very out of control world. Steve has been on his best behavior with us, but as he relaxes, you can see the edges. He’s going to need both of us to be really on our game, and if that means taking a little shit--pardon my French--from Milton, Gordon, and company, I’m more than willing to do it. Are you onboard here?”

“I’m not looking forward to it, but yes,” Miles said in his serious tone. “They were just so awful with us. I guess I’m not as forgiving as you are.”

“Milton didn’t have anything to do with it. He wasn’t all that active in the Green Mountain Boys.”

“He’s Gordon’s protégé. I may not be a Green Mountain Boy, but people talk at the bar. I never got the joy of meeting him because I guess there was some stink between Gordon and Milton’s best friend Tilden. Rumor is that Milton didn’t do Green Mountain Boy stuff when he was home so as not to upset Tilden. It must have been one hell of a tiff, and it must have been with just cause for Milton to not bulldoze right over his friend. I’ve seen Green Mountain tops in action; they’re not subtle.”

“No they’re not,” Simon said with a soft chuckle. “But seriously, I’ve met Milton a few times. He’s not a soft top, and he has a hurricane for a boy, but my impression is that he’s very fair and extremely cool headed. Rumor is that Gordon beat that cool headedness into him. I don’t know how true that is, but I do know he has an inside track to Gordon. You’ve got to remember that it was Gordon and Josh who originally brought us together. You were the runaway top as you like to call it, and I was as close to drifting as a top can be. Losing a partner is not something you ever want to live through.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Undetected heart disease at twenty-five.”

“Sam hated the doctors. I always made him go. Fat lot of good it did.”

“He knew he was loved, and his top was looking after him.” Miles brushed his fingers down Simon’s face. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 

“They aren’t bad, only fuzzy and sad. I sometimes wonder what Sam would look like now. Would he still have those freckles across the nose? Would he still be fighting those few extra pounds around the middle? I think Sam would have liked Steve. They would have been hell together. You would have liked him also. He hated the Green Mountain Boys, called them busybodies, even though I met him through a Green Mountain top.”

“He was right. They are busybodies.”

“For all your dislike of their interference, they knew our styles would be compatible, and they’re not all on the Josh end of the spectrum. I was a Green Mountain top, but I was trained by a top as different from Gordon as you are from Josh. Two years after Sam died he flew in from St Louis and dragged me to Vermont. I think it was he and Gordon who cooked up the idea of using me for top training. They both knew I wasn’t ready for another submissive.”

“Yeah, and then they went ballistic when we went further than teacher and student. What did they expect? I’m not a monk.”

“No, you’re not.” Simon let his hand run teasingly along Miles’s inner thigh. “They wanted to make sure I wasn’t unduly influencing you by my role as mentor. Think about Steve and Josh.”

“That’s different. Steve’s a submissive, and Josh is old.”

“Does being a submissive make Steve less capable of fending off unwanted advances or knowing his own will?”

“Yes--no--I don’t know.”

“Exactly, it isn’t so easy when you look at it from the other side. You practically accused Josh of being a dirty old man. It was his job to make sure I wasn’t taking advantage of you, and he had enough courage to make himself as unpopular as necessary. I didn’t handle our relationship well. Josh asked me point blank if we were intimate, and I lied to him. I lied to Gordon. Josh has forgiven me. He thinks I’m a good top who made a mistake and was blinded by love. I doubt if Gordon will be so easy.”

“Screw him! It was none of their business.”

“No, Miles, it was. I was your mentor. It’s a powerful relationship with a strong emotional connection. It would have been easy for me to take advantage of you.”

“You didn’t. I had to throw myself at you several times.”

“And do you think Steve hasn’t thrown himself at Josh? You’ve already told me you wouldn’t approve of Steve with Josh.”

“Steve’s a sub.”

“Didn’t we agree earlier that subs are capable of deciding whom they love?”

Miles flipped the end of his braid with his long fingers. “Yeah, I guess it’s not so simple.”

“No, it isn’t.” Simon put the keys in the ignition and started the car. “We don’t want to be late.”

“What will Milton do to you?”

“Talk, I think. Gordon might very well cane me. He’s been known to cane errant tops.”

“Shit!”

“Language.”

“Oh, come off it! Everyone talks like that.”

“What did you tell Steve the first day at Josh’s?”

“Not to swear with three tops around. I only did that because Josh looked like he was going to take his head off.”

“Green Mountain Boys don’t swear.”

“I’m not a Green Mountain Boy and neither are you anymore.”

“We need to be. Are you going to be OK with this?” Simon kept one eye on the road and one on Miles. Miles didn’t yield gracefully to authority, and young tops were expected to defer to their elders. This was a lot to ask of Miles, but Steve was pledged. They, at least for now, couldn’t escape the reach of the Green Mountain Boys, and even though Simon hadn’t voiced it aloud, he wanted the support and experience of Green Mountain tops if Steve became theirs. Steve had been with Josh, a top who Simon secretly watched with awe. The man was a machine, and he had to work to manage Steve. Josh had assured Simon that he thought Steve would settle significantly in an established romantic relationship. 

“After all the boy has out of control hormones, and he’s finally someplace where it’s safe to be gay and to be a sub, and the old guys are off limits. Of course he’s wild right now,” Josh had said with that knowing half smile that infuriated Miles. “I’m sure Miles can sympathize with young Steve’s plight.”

Miles had only refrained from a nasty retort because Simon less than discreetly kicked him. Josh had noticed that also and sent Simon a sympathetic smile. Josh wasn’t naive; he knew Simon was going to have his work cut out for him. 

Simon looked over at his partner. “Are you going to be OK with this?” he repeated. 

Miles nodded but stared angrily into the street. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Miles spat back. “I’m young, but I do know my own mind.”

Simon nosed the car into an empty spot on the street. “Look at me.” Simon waited until Miles turned his head toward him, his brown eyes smoldering with anger. “Miles, I know you don’t do yes sir, no sir, and all the other Green Mountain Boy trappings. I don’t do it either, but there’s more to it than that.”

“All I’ve ever seen is a bunch of old men telling me they know what is best for me. I’m young, not feeble minded.”

Simon half smiled. “I know the feeling, and I’m ten years older than you. Not every Green Mountain top is Gordon or Josh.”

“I’ve been told Milton is worse.”

“I don’t know. I’ve only met him once or twice, but we need to keep an open mind. You can’t condemn him before we meet him.”

“They condemned us. No one asked if it was what we wanted. We were told it’s forbidden. No exceptions.”

“Miles,” Simon warned. “If we’re serious about this little triad, we need to be on the same page. I want their acceptance and blessing for Steve but also for us. Steve won’t survive if we’re fighting, and I won’t put a sub in that situation.” Simon paused and studied his partner. He loved Miles and his still untamed side, but Miles would have to be a top, the top Simon knew he could be if Steve was going to be a permanent addition to the household. “You’re going to have to be a grown up top all the time now. Are you ready for that? I’m in love with that boy, but I won’t tear us apart because I’m impossibly in love with you.”

“I’m not Josh. I never will be,” Miles shot back.

“That’s the easy answer. Can you be Miles the top all the time?”

Miles paused and fingered the small ring in his eyebrow, a sure sign that he was nervous and uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”

Simon wrapped his arm around Miles’s shoulders and pulled him close. “It’s OK to be unsure. I’m scared, and I’ve had a submissive before, but I’ve never had one who will want as tight a regime as Steve, and I’ve never been in a threesome. It’s an enormous amount of power, and at least for a while Steve will want us to take it all. I get shaky thinking about it. Do you understand why I want the Green Mountain Boys’ blessing? I don’t want to go this alone. Steve is very very young. He’d be easy to hurt. He’s all promise and future, and God I want to see him become the man he will be with us. I’m horribly in love with the kid.”

“Me too,” Miles said softly, “but you’re making me want to cry. Didn’t some fool say falling in love was the happiest time of your life?”

“They weren’t two tops head over heels for a baby sub.” Simon bent and kissed Miles’s cheek and traced his fingers down Miles’s neck. “Are you truly good with this?”

“Yes, but please don’t make me talk about it right now. I will cry.”

“Don’t you remember me telling you that crying was fine, that we encouraged both dominants and submissives to freely discuss their emotions,” Simon said with a gentle smile and pushed Miles back toward his side of the car. “We are late now. Milton can add it on my list of sins--inability to keep time.”

“You can tell him it was my fault. He’ll assume that anyway.”

“Why?” Simon asked, pulling back out onto the street. Josh and Milton lived close; Simon had never taken this long to drive less than a kilometer.

“You know how Josh looks at me? I’m surprised he hasn’t grabbed some scissors and cut my hair himself.”

“Josh thinks you hide your top side behind a beatnik look, and I think I agree with him.”

“I like my braid.”

“So do I. It gives me a handhold to grab you with. It’s not the braid. It’s the attitude combined with the dress. He’s old-fashioned, but he’s trying hard. You might give him the same courtesy. You know Josh will help you top. It might not be your style, but he is good at it. You might listen to him sometimes.”

“I’ll think about it,” Miles said quietly.

“We’re here.” Simon said with a cheerfulness he didn’t feel. Milton lived in a large Victorian house, not a fortress, but Simon couldn’t shake the image of walking helplessly into enemy territory.

Of course Milton was waiting for them and opened the door before they’d even put one foot on the porch steps. He was a top; he expected people to be on time, not eight minutes late, Simon thought as he glanced at his watch.

“Do you have any other clothes?” Milton asked, eying their sweatshirts and Miles’s worn and frayed jeans. “I did make it clear that tonight’s dinner was formal?”

“You did. Miles, will you grab the bag out of the trunk?”

Miles was staring at Simon with an obvious what haven’t I been told look.

“Go on. I’ll tell you later,” Simon said as casually as he could. Miles was allergic to ties. Simon had searched high and low in Miles’s side of the closet for a suitable shirt and had finally found an old white button down crumpled in the corner. Their household didn’t have an iron. Simon tossed it in the dryer to freshen it; he’d thought he’d read somewhere that the dryer took out wrinkles. The advice had been less than accurate. It still looked like they bought it second hand and ran over it with the car a few times.

“Does he need a shirt and tie?” Milton asked with a calm politeness that would have rivaled any maitre d’ at a five star restaurant.

“I packed one for him.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Simon shook his head, unable to meet Milton’s steady gaze. He was only five or so years younger than Milton, but Milton had made him feel like a naughty school boy. It was no wonder that Milton was known as Gordon’s heir. 

“You are considering a threesome. You will need to communicate with your partners. Come on up,” Milton said as Miles returned with the bag, effortlessly switching from senior top to affable host. “Miles, isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Milton Brown. Everyone calls me Milton except at work.”

“Miles Canton. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Milton smiled slightly, softening his features. “Do I live up to my reputation?”

Miles remained silent, staring resolutely ahead with a clenched jaw. 

Milton raised an eyebrow, but acted as if he hadn’t noticed the deliberate refusal to answer his question. “We can talk in my study. It will be comfortable and quiet. The gang will be out for another hour, and Trent has roped most of them into helping with dinner. Blade and Sheldon will be serving which should be interesting. I don’t know if any of us will survive it.”

“You do formal service?” Simon asked, surprised. He’d been to one or two of Gordon’s dinners, but he had thought the tradition was dying with the older generation. Wearing a tie at dinner was bad enough; he wasn’t quite at Miles’s level of detestation. He’d let Milton wrestle Miles into a tie; the guy certainly looked strong enough. Simon was a big man, and Milton easily matched him.

“Rarely, but I have my partner’s younger brother. It’s a long story,” Milton said with a wry grin. “I’ll just say he needs all the training he can get. We may wish we were dining in raincoats and helmets by the time the night is over.”

Simon looked around Milton’s study. Why had he expected it to openly display all the toppiness that Milton seemed to exude at every breath? Of course its complete lack of forced masculinity might be a reflection of Milton’s easy confidence with himself. He didn’t need to tell people he was a top, it rolled off him like waves at the beach, constantly cresting and ebbing. Josh was a strong top, but he was older, and that age difference made it easier for Simon to accept his natural authority. Milton was Simon’s generation. He shouldn’t be sir, but somehow the force of Milton’s personality was pushing Simon in that direction.

Miles was different; even with Joshua he resisted the titles of respect and could be openly challenging. He wasn’t a submissive. He wasn’t looking for comfort or someone to take charge; he was more than capable in both those areas. He resisted arbitrary authority; he especially resisted what he called dated displays of subservience. Miles without question would follow their experienced bartender’s directions to the letter on mixing an unfamiliar drink, but suggest he change from a green shirt to a blue shirt and Simon or anyone else better have five reasons ready for the need to change. His little performance with Milton reminded Simon of how little experience Miles truly had with other tops and how young he was. Milton had done nothing but be polite, and Miles was still reacting to him with sharp and unmistakable defense of his rights and self.

“Josh has been telling me you two have really hit it off with Steve,” Milton said as he draped himself into an armchair beside the desk. He was clearly trying to moderate his body language into something less intimidating.

“He’s a wonderful young man,” Simon said neutrally.

“Simon,” Milton said, stiffening in the chair. “You’re here to talk to me. I’d say this has gone farther than admiring the boy from a distance as a nice young man. I represent everything you turned your back on three years ago when you and Simon became a couple.”

“I don’t need your high handed moralizing.” Miles shot to his feet before Simon could reach him with a steadying hand.

“Sit down.” Milton’s voice wasn’t loud; he hadn’t even moved from his chair, but the authority was unmistakable.

“I’m not a boy for you to boss around. I have every right to my opinion,” Miles said with cold precision.

“Miles, I’m well aware of what you are. I was a young top once myself,” Milton said with a surprising easiness and lack of rancor. “You don’t have to both run away from it and try to prove it all at the same time. It’s dizzying for me, and it will be overwhelming for Steve. Listen to me.” Milton held up his hand, stalling Miles’s protests. “I was there once; I understand this a lot better than you think. I know you don’t like being told what you think. I finally learned to swallow it with good grace, but it doesn’t mean I like it. We’re tops; we have huge responsibilities; we have to learn from each other. I learned at Gordon’s feet and over his knee. I don’t think you’d tolerate that which means you need to listen to Simon, Josh, and me who will explain instead of whipping it into your backside.”

“What made you the arbitrator of all things top and the judge of my relationship with Simon?” Simon winced at Miles’s tone. 

“Have I said anything disparaging about your relationship with Simon?” Milton asked mildly, linking his hands around his knee.

“You will.”

“You can read minds?”

“Two tops aren’t supposed to be together. It’s a violation of some stupid and outdated rule. All that secret society crap and hierarchical authority. It’s the twenty-first century, not the eighteenth.”

“I am a historian. I’m well aware society changes. Do you honestly think I’m going to try to condemn you for falling in love with Simon? Love is not always logical. I have Sheldon after all. I’ve been told more than once that he wasn’t the logical choice.”

Simon watched Miles’s struggle not to show his surprise on his face, not that Simon wasn’t also surprised. He remembered both Josh’s and Gordon’s scorching words before he’d thrown all their fine rules and regulations in their face. 

“OK, are you done?” Milton said with a half smile.

Miles blushed a bright red, a color Simon rarely saw in him, and grinned sheepishly in return. “Sorry.”

“Thank you. I’m more tolerant of hotheaded, young top behavior than Gordon will be, but I wouldn’t recommend such a performance with me again. I chased everyone away today because I was expecting a young top display, but I demand a certain level of decorum and consistency with all the tops in this household: guest or permanent resident, and the Green Mountain Boys will censor any member top who does not behave within their guidelines.”

Miles glared at Milton before answering in a cold, clipped tone. “I am who I am. I cannot and will not be a cookie cutter top.”

“Decorum remember,” Milton said.

“I have to politely take it while I’m being ripped up for not being a perfect Green Mountain top. I have long hair; I wear jewelry, I am young, and I don’t say sir,” Miles spat out, enunciating each word clearly in his effort to control his temper.

Milton casually crossed his legs. “I have mentioned neither your hair nor your rather interesting jewelry. No, I would not allow my own submissive to pierce an eyebrow, but you are not my boy. The fact you are young is an advantage as far as I can see. Steve is young; we have a shortage of young tops. Your final issue is more complicated. Have I asked you to call me sir?”

“No, but you will. Josh can hardly stand it; his knuckles turn white from his death grip on the table edges and his coffee cup as he tries to refrain from lecturing me on proper etiquette, and Steve calls Josh sir.”

“So, I’m the enemy for something I have yet to do. Does that seem fair or just to condemn me for a supposed future action?”

Miles flushed and glared at Milton.

“No, it’s not,” Milton said quietly enough that Simon had to strain to hear him. “Is Steve bothered by calling Josh sir?”

“No, he’s not,” Miles admitted after a moment of strained silence.

“But you are?”

“I don’t want to be interrogated.”

“I thought we were having a conversation, not an interrogation. Is he always this way at home, or do I bring the best out in him?” Milton asked and smiled at Simon.

“It’s you,” Simon said, swallowing his own smile. He hadn’t expected this from Milton. He knew by reputation that Milton was Gordon’s heir, and he’d imagined a younger Gordon. Gordon didn’t joke, and he didn’t tolerate any deviation in the young tops. It was obvious that Milton was a powerful top and a top completely comfortable with his authority and his role, but he was also genuinely friendly and without the guarded reserve that Simon sensed in both Josh and Gordon. It wasn’t that Josh had been unfriendly, but Milton was making a space for Miles, letting him be Miles the young and crazy top. Josh had held his tongue, but both Miles and Simon sensed the disapproval, and Simon didn’t want to even think about Gordon.

“At least he hasn’t taken a swing at me yet. I did a few times with Gordon. It always ended badly.” Milton laughed before turning serious. “Miles, listen to me. If I wanted to interrogate you, you wouldn’t be sitting comfortably next to your partner. You would be standing in front of me, and I would be well within your personal space. I learned the technique well, having been on the receiving end more than a few times. I want to talk to you, preferably without having a ritualistic display of power between the two of us or what you might more colloquially call a top pissing contest. You are a strong top, wild and hiding it a bit, but strong never the less. You’re going to react to me. You’re angry. I represent the authority that decreed your relationship with Simon as forbidden. I represent the authority of the Green Mountain Boys in general. An authority you are currently determined to resist. You believe our hierarchical authority is dictatorial, regimented, and hopelessly out of date. You’re going to fight me. I know; I’ve been there. I hated it. I don’t naturally yield to others, but it has its purposes. The very nature of our relationships makes excesses all too easy and all too frightening. We police our own, and we train our tops to understand the feelings of their partners. You work in a bar that caters to practitioners of power sharing relationships some more proficient in the skill than others. I am sure you’ve seen relationships that are less than the model.”

“Yes, we both have,” Simon said, answering for Miles. “We will intervene if necessary, but we have little power.”

“Abuse to the level of law breaking rarely takes place in public,” Milton said dryly. “But it is the lesser crimes and the misunderstandings that I, as a Green Mountain Boy, am more interested in. Until very recently in our society, a power exchange relationship was a closely guarded secret. This secrecy prevented the free exchange of knowledge and even the easy camaraderie of being amongst your own. We provide camaraderie and a structure to ensure the safety of all participants. As a top, I willingly and gladly give up a small degree of my independence to better love and care for Sheldon. I do not naturally submit to authority, but as a top and as a human being, I will do everything to make myself a better lover, partner, and husband. You now have a responsibility if you love Steve. Being a good top is about love and sacrifice. It’s not about how you dress or what political party you vote for, but it is about consistency, dedication, and a willingness to listen. You have to go beyond being an occasional top to a full time top, and there are two of you. It’s going to be harder. You have to coordinate your message to Steve and to each other. I’ve been told that Simon is an excellent top, but he’s out of practice as a full time top, and he neglected your training once you became lovers.”

“I can top. It’s not like I’ve never seen a sub before.”

“Yes, you’ve seen submissives,” Milton interrupted calmly, “but you haven’t lived with subs, and you haven’t been subjected to anyone else’s authority. You’ve had the bad luck to fall in love with a boy who is a Green Mountain boy and a pledged Green Mountain brat. Have you talked to Josh about the implications?”

“Only in the broadest sense,” Simon said, reaching out to cover Miles’s hand with his own. “We realize that we will be held responsible for Steve’s actions.”

“Gordon canes,” Milton said, staring hard at both of them. “Do either of you have any experience with canes?”

“I have once or twice,” Simon said, “but not for real, more as a joke.” Simon had plenty of experience with the other implements, and it didn’t take much to imagine the sharp sting of the cane.

“No,” Miles said. “Too British upper crust for me. Dear, would you like some tea while I fetch the cane?”

“I suggest you familiarize yourself with it. It’s not something to take lightly, and Steve will be devastated if you two find yourself facing Gordon’s wrath. It was hard for him before, and he’ll be far more invested in you than he was with Josh at the time. Josh keeps him very short leashed partially at Steve’s request and partially to prevent a repeat episode.”

“How melodramatic!” Miles made a face. “I feel like I’m in a period drama.”

“Miles,” Simon said sharply. “Milton’s being very nice to you. I doubt he has infinite patience, and I don’t.”

“Don’t you start,” Miles said with a flick of his braid.

“Miles, please” Simon said with a sigh. Simon could top; he’d certainly done it before, but not with Miles. Even when their relationship had been only as mentor and young top, Miles had always responded better to an open discussion and gentle prodding, but unless Simon was losing his mind, Miles was pushing here. He was pushing to see if one of them would morph into that mythical über-top. Simon didn’t like that role especially with his lover, but Milton was sitting back and watching, not yet interfering. Simon had heard enough rumors to know that Milton was very comfortable in that role.

“I’m trying,” Miles said, his voice still clipped. “I’m not good at this submitting to authority thing and all that.”

“Neither am I,” Milton said gently, “but sometimes it is necessary. It’s also important to understand what Steve is giving you. How can you protect and cherish something you don’t fully understand? Miles, what do you want and need from me?”

“Nothing,” Miles spat.

“That’s not what I’m reading off you at all,” Milton said mildly. “Simon, do you concur?”

Simon brushed his hand down Miles’s cheek and studied the unnaturally sullen expression in his partner’s usually amused eyes and the determined set of his chin. “I think you’re pushing, boy.” Simon said, not taking his eyes off Miles’s face. He didn’t often call Miles boy. How would he react?

“Boy!” Miles, spat back.

“Yes,” Simon said, not rising to the bait and falling back on his well learned but rarely used top skills. “You’re pushing both of us, little boy.”

“I’m not your sub.” Miles jerked away from Simon’s touch.

“Boy,” Milton barked, looming over both of them. Simon hadn’t seen him get up, but now centimeters from his knee the man was intimidating, cold, unforgiving, and every inch the rumored über-top. “No one repeatedly shows this much disrespect in this house: boy, top, or as vanilla as the 1950’s television stereotype. Do you understand me?”

“Miles,” Simon said softly. “This isn’t about you being a sub; you aren’t. This is about being the top you should be, being the top I should have taught you to be. I was in love. I didn’t have the heart to do this. Let Milton show you.”

“Were you taught this way?”

“Yes,” Simon said with a slow nod “but maybe not this kindly, or at least not kindly until I was older. I wasn’t initially trained as a top.” Simon swallowed to clear his throat and keep his voice steady. “I was a kept boy. No one explained. They just did it, and I had no choice. Looking back as an adult, I know it wasn’t consensual or at least in the way a top like Milton or Josh would call consensual, but he didn’t hurt me; he saved me from something far worse, and when the time was right he let me go.”

“How old were you?” Miles asked.

“Seventeen. We’ve talked about this,” Simon said quickly. “Remember I told you I ran away from home when you told me you’d run away to become a top.”

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

Simon shrugged. It still hurt to think about it, the rejection by his parents. They hadn’t been religious types, and Simon had been unprepared for their reaction. Just shy of his seventeenth birthday he’d told his parents he was gay. He’d expected shock and surprise; he’d hid it well. He’d lived in a small town, and he hadn’t wanted to be the only kid who was different. He hadn’t expected the blind hate that spewed from his father’s mouth. Hate so vicious that Simon had walked out of his parents’ home for good that night. He’d been lucky. It hadn’t always been easy being Roger’s boy, but Roger had treated him well compared to many, and more importantly he’d turned Simon loose at twenty-one with a nice chunk of change and a hard push to go to college.

“I’ll tell you when I tell Steve. Is that a deal?” Simon said with as much of a smile as he could muster.

Miles nodded, closed the small gap between them, and landed a soft kiss on Simon’s cheek. “I’m sorry; I can be an ass at times. I’ll let Milton torture me,” Miles said with obvious false bravado.

“It doesn’t have to be the way Simon experienced it or even the way I did. This is not about you being afraid of me or kowtowing to my wishes. It is about understanding the dynamic.” Milton said gently before drawing himself up to his full height and snapping his fingers. “Stand up, boy, now.”

Miles flicked his braid across his back and stood, a trace of a smile on his face as if he were trying to pretend this was a game, but Simon could see the underlying tension hidden under the false front with the wariness of Miles’s eyes and the rigidity of his stance.

“Boy, why are you in trouble with me?” Milton asked, looming into Miles’s personal space. 

“I was rude,” Miles said. The breeziness of his tone was in sharp contrast to the rapid swallowing and the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Hold your hands out, waist high, palm up.” For a second, Simon thought Milton was going to smack Miles across the palms, a strategy that was doomed to fail, but instead Milton reached across to his desk and placed a moderate sized history text in each hand. “Hold those and think about what it means to you to be a top and what it will mean to be a Green Mountain top. Don’t speak until I take the books from your hands.”

Position punishment, Simon had hated it. It looked benign and after a few minutes every fiber in his body would demand he move. It had been one of Roger’s favorite means to torture his young houseboy. Roger had loved the punishment that took no work on his part and left young Simon begging for mercy far quicker than the strap. 

Milton’s hand touched Simon’s shoulder in a silent gesture of sympathy and support. His expression was questioning, but he didn’t speak. He was giving Simon a chance to voice his concerns. Simon shook his head, his eyes still on his partner.

“Trust me,” Milton said almost under his breath.  Milton moved to his desk, sat down, pulled a notebook out of a drawer, and started writing calmly. Simon looked at his watch; the numbers seemed frozen in space. He could hear the rhythmic ticking of the clock in the hall and knew time hadn’t stopped. Milton shut the notebook, stepped forward, and removed the books from Miles’s hands.

“Thank you,” Milton said softly and sincerely. “You were very brave.”

Miles’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “It didn’t hurt. It was just silly.”

“It can hurt. I think Simon can tell you that, but I have no desire to hurt you. This isn’t about pain; it’s about placing trust in someone else. Something no one does easily. You were brave because you did what I asked, even though it seemed silly. You gave me a little piece of yourself by doing that. Your submissive will give far more of himself. You must understand the gift. What were you thinking when you did it?”

Miles was silent for a moment. “At first I was trying to pretend it was a bit of a joke. I knew you were serious, but holding books seemed silly until I saw Simon’s expression. He was concerned, and I honestly, well, started to wonder what you had in mind.”  Miles smiled sheepishly. “If you had left me much longer, the books would have been heavy.”

“Good.” Milton kissed the top of Miles’s head.

“I’m not your sub.”

“Didn’t we just have this conversation?” Milton asked, his voice hardening. “You are a young top.”

“I guess.” Miles shrugged. “I’m a slow learner.”

“You don’t have that excuse with me because slow you’re not.”

“Really,” Miles said, not hiding his sarcasm. “You and Josh seem to believe I’m incapable of making the smallest decisions. I’m married; I hold a steady job; I’m not an idiot. I’m twenty-four, and I love a boy who is somehow all tangled up in the insanity of the Green Mountain Boys. That’s not a crime.”

“No it’s not,” Milton said. “But it means understanding the insanity of the Green Mountain Boys. You can’t wish that side of Steve away.” 

Simon stood and dropped an arm over Miles’s shoulders and pulled him close, noticing the tightness in Miles’s expression and the shielded look in his dark brown eyes. “Milton, may we have a moment alone?”

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs.” 

“You let him come after me,” Miles hissed as Milton closed the door. “I defended our marriage, and you did nothing. Does he so intimidate you that you sit there like a fucking frog on a fucking lily pad?”

“Miles, don’t shout at me.”

“You hung me out to dry, you bastard!”

“Miles.” Simon wrapped his arms around his young lover, resting his chin on the shiny brown hair. “I didn’t interfere because you like to fight your own battles, and Milton for all his dominance wasn’t being unfair. Yes, he was testing you; that was obvious, but he was also clearly signaling he’s going to support us.”

“How can you say that?” Miles said, struggling to escape Simon’s arms.

“Stop struggling. You’re my lover; I want to hold you.” Miles sagged against Simon, and Simon knew Miles was fighting tears. “I’ve got you. Come sit with me.” Simon guided Miles back to the sofa and waited for him to pull his legs up to his chest and curl into a small ball more in Simon’s lap than on the sofa. He wouldn’t do it if he thought he was being watched or judged, but alone he would let his guard down.

“I hate this,” Miles said, looking up into Simon’s eyes. “I don’t want to have to prove myself all the time.”

“I know, and I know it feels like that.” Simon rubbed Miles’s shoulders and back. “Milton in his own way is telling us he accepts our relationship and will support the addition of Steve.”

“It’s doesn’t feel that way.”

“You haven’t been around many tops like Milton. To be honest, I haven’t either.” Simon smiled and kissed Miles’s forehead.

“I don’t like that.” Miles said, making a face as Simon’s lips brushed his forehead.

“I know, too possessive.”

“Too patronizing. I’m not a little boy that needs watching over.”

“Milton watches over everybody. He can’t turn it off.”

“I don’t want watched over.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Simon said with an expressive flick of his eyebrow. “It might be nice to call on that big lug when people get out of hand in the bar. His stare will send most of those pretend tops running for the exit.”

Simon got a hint of a smile. “He doesn’t scare me.”

“Well, he scares me. I keep expecting bolts of lightning to come from his fingers or for the moon to drop down and land on his shoulders.”

“You’re being silly.”

“There’s no use pretending you don’t feel it.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be topped. I don’t need it, and I don’t like it.”

“Milton is going to do it. I don’t think he could turn it off if he wanted to. It’s who he is.”

“He can use someone else for his little demo boy.”

Simon traced a finger over Miles’s eyebrow before bending down to kiss him. “I don’t think any less of you because you participated in Milton’s scientific experiment. It takes more courage to say yes than no.”

“I don’t feel courageous; I feel stupid. I don’t agree with all the Green Mountain bullshit, and Milton leaned on me slightly, and I disappeared like a puff of air.”

“Is Steve a wimp because he yields to you, me, or Josh?”

“Josh is a bully.”

“I don’t think so. He’s an old school top, but he’s no bully. I lived with a bully when I was Steve’s age. I cried over mud on the carpet. Steve says ‘yes, sir’ to Josh, but he is neither afraid nor cowed. It’s a negotiated and understood response. He’s respectful of Josh, but he’s not downtrodden.”

Miles pulled himself to a sitting position, resting his elbows on his knees. “I take it this long convoluted discussion is trying to convince me I can be respectful without feeling like a kicked dog.”

“Yes.”

“Why do I have to respect people who hate everything I am? I married another top. I have long hair.”

“Milton doesn’t care about your hair.”

“Josh does.”

 “Josh is old enough to remember when you couldn’t be open about these types of relationships. He protected his partner by being inconspicuous in public. He knows times have changed, and he’s said nothing to you, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

“He doesn’t let Steve choose.”

“Steve is tight leashed. Does Steve appeared to resent it?”

Miles sat for a moment, only the slight shifting of his weight marked his hesitation and uncertainty. “I don’t think so,” he finally said.

“He doesn’t. It represents safety and care taking. I used to lay Sam’s clothes out. He wanted me to. What did you really feel when Milton did his little experiment with you?”

“Relieved when it was over.”

“Miles,” Simon said sharply.

Miles laced his long fingers together and stared at his hands. “I don’t know. I was so sucked into his vortex.” Miles hesitated. “It was frightening--the amount of power he had over me. I’m a top; I should be able to resist that.”

“Not with someone as good as Milton.”

“He’s a manipulative bastard.”

“Aren’t we all?” Simon said with a half smile.

“That makes us sound evil.” Miles rolled the bracelet of colored beads on his wrist. “Do no harm,” he muttered.

“That’s the number one rule of a Green Mountain Boy. Do no harm. The power is seductive.”

“I don’t want to hurt Steve.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it?”

Miles nodded, his eyes troubled. 

“Yeah, I know, Milton and Joshua do it so easily. Even with Sam, it was never that easy for me. Milton will help and so will Josh.”

“I don’t want to top like them. They’re too authoritarian. They don’t have a right to tell us what to do. What gives them that right?” 

“Milton and Josh believe it’s their duty.”

“Do you?”

“I was a Green Mountain Boy, never in Vermont under Gordon’s regime, but I believed in the need to train other tops and to protect tops and subs everywhere. I still do. I was supposed to train you. I’m afraid I shirked my duty.”

“You didn’t. I’ll never be that kind of top. They can’t browbeat me into it.”

“Milton and Josh aren’t evil.”

“No, they’re anal retentive control freaks.”

“Miles, stop it.”

“I can’t believe you’re on their side.”

“There isn’t a side to be on. Every top has his own style. You are not going to morph into a miniature Milton, and he doesn’t expect that of you.”

“That’s not how it felt from my perspective.” 

Simon reached across to Miles and pulled him close. “They’ve shaken you, haven’t they? Do what feels natural to you. You are a top, but in their mind you’re not a trained top.”

Miles rubbed his hand against his jeans, seemingly lost in tracing the bare threads. “I don’t want their training. I won’t be like them.”

“I don’t expect you to be.” Simon kissed Miles’s forehead, smiling as Miles’s flinched away. He hated that gesture, said it made him feel like a well loved stuff toy. “Miles, you love Steve?”

“You know I do.” 

“Steve is a Green Mountain Boy, a Green Mountain submissive. We can’t take this away from him. These are his friends. Can you try to face Milton for him?”

Miles ran his hand down his braid, his eyes moving from Simon, to the desk, and to the overflowing bookshelf. “I’ll suck it up, but if Milton makes a crack about the two of us together, I swear I’ll hit him.”

“He won’t,” Simon said with more confidence than he felt. Milton had seemed to understand. He’d topped Miles, but it had been gentle and subtle, and at least to Simon, it had been instruction and not pure dominance, training that wouldn’t hurt Miles. Simon had been on the receiving end of their care. He’d have to tell Miles about David. Maybe then he would understand. A Green Mountain top could be demanding, strict, unrelenting, but they were never arbitrary or capricious. David had shown Simon the better side of the Green Mountain Boys both in the way he treated Simon, but more importantly in the way he treated his sub. David had introduced him to Sam, and he was the one who had dragged Simon spitting and kicking out the chasm he’d fallen into after Sam’s death. Simon wanted to come home, back to the only family he’d known after his own had so clearly rejected him. He loved Miles, more than anybody since Sam, and at the time leaving the Green Mountain Boys was the only solution. David had been furious; he’d called Simon a cowardly fool for not facing them and for taking the unworthy way out. Simon had tried to stay in touch with David, but the issue lay between them like an unbreachable border. “Do it for me, Miles. I want to go back.”

Miles stared, his brown eyes searching Simon’s face. He seemed to grow taller, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. “I’ll do it, but it will be on my terms. I will tolerate no one telling me who I can love.”