Texas, Our Texas 2

Texas, Our Texas

Chapter 2

The car ride had been OK, or maybe Samuel had just been too shocked to notice much. Sheldon had driven, and Milton had sat in the back with Samuel, keeping one arm over Samuel’s shoulders. Blessedly, he hadn’t wanted to talk, and Samuel had feigned interest in the passing countryside. Sheldon had made some crack that all the Vermont countryside was the same: rocks, cold, and damn cows that shit all the time. Milton had clicked his tongue in disapproval at Sheldon’s crude language but hadn’t said anything.

The house was chaos. Samuel didn’t know how they fit all those people in there, and he wasn’t sure how they were related to each other, and asking seemed a frightening prospect. Coming from Texas, the relationships were almost obscene. Samuel got the couples; there had been mostly couples in Vermont, but here the numbers didn’t work out. Tilden, the guy with the tea who was always saying something full of tongue choking consonants, was partners with Mike and Luke. Luke seemed nice; he’d smiled gently and rolled his eyes when a second red-headed whirlwind came barging into the kitchen, dropping a book bag, shoes, and coat from one end of the room to the other. 

That was Blade, Sheldon’s younger brother. Samuel still couldn’t figure out why Blade was here. Sheldon had made an attempt to explain, but it had been disjointed and far too fast to understand. Sheldon did everything fast; Samuel was exhausted watching him.

“Dinner’s ready,” someone called. Samuel still couldn’t put their names to their faces; voices he didn’t know at all.

“No one will eat you alive at dinner. Milton runs a tight ship if we’re in the dining room. You can sit next to Mace. I promise he uses silverware and won’t throw the rolls. Come on, kiddo.” The man smiled and squeezed Samuel’s shoulder. 

Samuel nodded and stood up. He would have rather stayed in the relative peace of the living room. He missed Jonah. Samuel had felt comfortable in Vermont. Jonah had been there. Jonah wouldn’t let him get in trouble. Samuel had immediately liked Landon who had stayed with him and introduced Samuel to one person at a time. Here there were people everywhere, all doing different things at different times. It was chaos, and they acted like it was normal. 

“I’m Trent in case you don’t remember, and it’s like this all the time.”

“I’m fine,” Samuel said, his head tucked down into someone’s borrowed sweatshirt. His clothes had been left in Vermont.

“I’m not the super dom that Milton is; all he needs is a phone booth and a pair of tights, and he’s ready for action, but I do know you’re not fine.”

Samuel felt himself blush scarlet. 

“It’s OK, kiddo. You don’t have to tell me anything, but Mace and I are around if you need anything. Let’s go eat.”

Samuel nodded, grateful that Trent hadn’t said more. He didn’t want to talk to all these strangers. Milton had tried earlier but hadn’t pushed. Milton had promised Samuel he could call Jonah tonight--after dinner. Samuel could make it through the dinner.

Dinner was noisy. Samuel was beginning to think everything in this house was noisy. Blade launched a piece of garlic bread at his brother, and Milton swatted him. 

“That’s Blade. He can’t live without a swat an hour. Get used to it,” Mike said, helping himself to more salad. “Do you want some?”

“No,” Samuel said quickly. He wasn’t hungry. He’d pushed the spaghetti around the plate and had managed to choke down only two meatballs.

“Our cooking that bad?” Mace asked, his voice easy and his expression genuinely friendly. “You’ll get used to it around here. It’s Milton’s madness. He collects strays.”

Milton cleared his throat. “And who brought Jason home?”

“He’s a dominant, and he's Mace's cousin, plus Braxton has already spoken for him. He doesn’t count,” Mike said, jumping into the conversation, “and I think Blade counts as at least three or four boys.”

“It’s not like your perfect,” Blade shot back. “I’ve seen Tilden giving you a talking to.”

“At least it doesn’t happen every day.”

“Boys,” both Milton and Tilden said simultaneously.

“I’ve got this,” Tilden said, standing up. “We’ll be in the kitchen for the rest of the meal since some of us seemed to have forgotten our manners.” Tilden said something with way too many consonants and tried to corral the two young men toward the kitchen.

“He’ll make me do lines,” Blade whined at everybody at the table. “I hate lines.”

“I would have spanked you, so count it as a blessing,” Milton said. “You know how to behave at dinner.”

Blade halted as he reached the doorway. “You’re mad.”

Milton, whose chair was closest to the doorway, reached over, snagged Blade’s wrist, and pulled him close. He dropped an affectionate kiss on the messy red hair. “I’m not mad, but dinner in peace might be nice.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Samuel thought he saw tears in those big green eyes. “I’m always more trouble than everyone else.”

“Oh, stop it,” Milton said with clear affection. “Go deal with Tilden, boy.”

“He makes me write the lines in Russian. It takes forever.”

“Maybe if Luke wasn’t doing so much of your homework, you could write faster,” Milton  said, giving Blade a friendly push toward the kitchen.

“Not fair,” Blade whined but moved toward Tilden and the kitchen.

Samuel knew he had to be staring. He’d seen some of this interaction in Vermont, but nothing like Blade. Milton scared Samuel. The man was big, and he had a fierce stare. Samuel couldn’t image arguing with him; Samuel didn’t argue with Jonah. It just didn’t seem right.

“Samuel, finish your dinner,” Milton said softly.

“Yes, sir.” Samuel dropped his head back to his plate. He wanted to get away from Milton’s gaze.

*

“I can’t wear this!” Samuel exclaimed.  He was looking at the stranger staring back at him from the mirror.  The stranger had Samuel’s face but was dressed in tight black leather pants and a gauzy mesh shirt.

“Sure you can,” Mike said. “You’re going clubbing. It doesn’t require a suit and tie or pressed khakis.” Mike ran his hands down his pants. “I’m so sick of khakis. Tilden’s a great guy, but he has no fashion sense. He gets all bent out of shape when I don’t dress like I’m joining the Young Conservative League. You can’t go to a club wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

“Jonah would never let me wear something like this.  I’d get the belt for sure.”

“Jonah’s a jerk. He should have that belt across his ass.”

“Mike, shut it," Sheldon said from across the room. "Samuel, you look great, and we’re going with Milton. He said it was OK.”

“Sheldon, are you sure this is OK?” Samuel wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but everything was different here, not just in America but here with Milton, Sheldon, and all the others who lived in this big, old house. 

They’d been dragging Samuel around all week. He’d been to the art museum, Sheldon’s work to be part of a live studio audience, and to a night of incomprehensible Russian films. Samuel wasn’t dumb; he knew they’d been trying to distract him. He hardly had a moment alone. The first several nights Milton had even sat in the room when Samuel talked to Jonah on the phone. That had been unnerving. Milton was supposedly grading papers, but Samuel had felt like a bug in a glass jar. Milton had left him alone last night. Samuel had cried; he missed Jonah so much. Of course Milton had noticed. He’d picked Samuel up and held him in his lap the way Samuel had seen him do with Sheldon and Blade.

Men weren’t demonstrative in Texas, or at least Jonah wasn’t. Samuel wondered how it would feel to sit on Jonah’s lap and have Jonah’s arms wrapped around him. Would Jonah ever be that openly affectionate? Samuel remembered even as a young boy the teasing and snickering remarks if any boy would dare touch another boy except to have a fistfight or a wrestling match. They had been well conditioned not to touch. Here it was different. All the guys touched all the time, and at least from this outfit, revealing clothes were OK when engaged in an activity called clubbing. It had to be legal if Milton was going. He wouldn’t do something illegal, would he? Of course this had been Sheldon’s idea, and even after less than a week, Samuel had figured out it was the Zath brothers who were always in trouble. Jonah would have just taken his belt to their backsides and stopped the nonsense. 

“Are you just going to stare at yourself, or are you ready to go?” Sheldon asked.

“I don’t feel right. I shouldn’t go. Give me my pants back.”

“Sammy, live a little bit. This will be fun. It’s hell getting Milton to go out. You can’t get cold feet now,” Sheldon said with a wide grin. “You’re young and gay. Live it up.”

“I’m partnered. This isn’t right.”

“Jonah’s in Vermont. There’s no law against having fun,” Mike said. “I wish I was going. I can’t get Tilden to step foot in a club. He thinks he’s going to turn into a pumpkin or something.”

“Boy, you can come with us, but you do need more appropriate clothes.”

Samuel turned and stared, shutting his mouth with a snap. Milton was dressed in caramel colored leather pants and a close fitting black sweater.

“Hot, isn’t he?” Sheldon said, worming his way under his partner’s arm.

Samuel managed to choke out some unintelligible noise of agreement. He knew he was staring wide-eyed and amazed, but he couldn’t stop himself. He could see the submissives dressing this way, but for a top to fully participating in this folly. Milton was strict by these American standards, and he was dressed in those provocative clothes.

“Samuel, a little fun at the right time and place is fine,” Milton said quietly and in a tone that Samuel already recognized as the start of lecture mode. “Neither I nor my partner would ever dress like this for work, but we are going out for a night on the town. There is no harm in play at appropriate times.”

“No one dressed like this at home,” Samuel protested. “I don’t know...” 

“Samuel, this is not harmful,” Milton said steadily. “This is supposed to be fun. I won’t force you to go.”

“Come on,” Sheldon said. “Don’t wimp out on us now.”

“Sheldon, this is Samuel’s choice,” Milton said sharply.

“Jonah wouldn’t like it. He’d be mad.”

“He can stuff himself,” Mike muttered through gritted teeth.

“Mike.” 

Mike dropped his head quickly at Milton’s tone, but he didn’t look any happier or contrite. 

“He wouldn’t be mad?” Samuel asked shyly, fingering the mesh of his shirt.

“He has no reason to be,” Milton said. “You’re going with me. I won’t let you go anywhere that I think is unsafe.”

“People dress like this here?” 

“To go clubbing. If Mike wore that to go to class I’m sure Tilden would have a word with him.”

“He did,” Mike said with a wry grin, “and it involved both looking at the paintwork and the floor.”

“I can’t wear this.” Samuel started pulling off the shirt.

“You’re no fun,” Sheldon said.

“I’m not a slut!” Samuel shouted. “I’m Jonah’s. I don’t belong here.”

Milton caught Samuel’s wrist and towed him into the hallway. “Easy. No one’s going to make you do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I’m sorry.” Samuel swiped at his eyes, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. You can tell me you don’t want to do something. I’d rather you not get in a mudslinging match with Sheldon and Mike,” Milton said with a small smile. “I think they’re far better at it than you are, and I don’t want to referee.” Milton bent down and kissed Samuel’s forehead. “Do you want to go out tonight, or would you rather stay in? You could also go to the movies with Jason and Blade?”

“Blade wanted to come with us,” Samuel said, leaning into Milton’s body.

“He’s not twenty-one.”

“Why isn’t Luke coming? Does Tilden think clubbing’s bad?” Samuel stumbled over the unfamiliar term. As far as he knew people didn’t go clubbing in Texas; he knew guys like him didn’t.

“Luke doesn’t like to, and I think he and Tilden have something planned,” Milton said with a look Samuel couldn’t interpret.

“What do you mean? Luke’s not in trouble, is he?” Luke was nice; he’d given Samuel several sketches of Samuel around the house. Luke had mentioned giving them to Jonah so he could see what Samuel had been doing. All the other guys make nasty comments about Jonah--well, except Mace who was kind of different.

“Far from it,” Milton said with a smile. “They like to play, and they prefer not to have an audience.” Samuel’s expression must have shown his confusion because Milton continued, “Luke likes to play with the cane. You do know what a cane is?”

Samuel nodded. They had some pretty interesting reading material around here, and Samuel had glanced at a few books. The cane didn’t sound fun; the pictures were frightening.

“Tilden has a gentle touch. It’s fun, not horrifying. Everything depends on the mood and on the strength of the stroke. Talk to Luke sometime when the other hoodlums aren’t around. He’s shy about it, but I think he’ll talk to you. You won’t make fun of him.”

Samuel nodded, still not seeing how it could be any fun. “Do you think Jonah will be OK with me going out?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Samuel it’s what you want to do, not what you think Jonah wants you to do.”

“But aren’t I supposed to listen to him? He’s my dominant.”

“Samuel, it’s not that simple.” Milton dropped his arms around Samuel, pulling him close. 

“You punish Sheldon and Blade.” Samuel could hear the strident sound in his voice. Why did they keep confusing him? He obeyed Jonah. It was the right thing to do. Jonah kept him safe.

“I do. They want it. It is part of who they are. Do you want it?”

“I don’t like being strapped with the belt. It hurts. I don’t like Jonah being upset with me.” Samuel swallowed hard, fighting to stop the tears that were threatening.

“Sheldon and Blade don’t like it when I’m upset with them either.”

“But they’re in trouble all the time.”

“Not really. Nothing outrageous since you’ve been here. They push around the edges because they like me to react: a little swat or a little corner time. They need a tangible reminder that I’ve got them, that I’ll hold up my end of the bargain. You haven’t seen real trouble; they’re very different boys in real trouble. Now I don’t think you and Jonah have that type of relationship. You don’t have an understanding of each other’s role.”

“Jonah doesn’t abuse me. That’s what y’all think. That’s why I’m here.” Samuel jerked away from Milton. “I’m not a victim. I don’t need protected. I want to be with Jonah.”

“Samuel, I don’t think you or Jonah fully understand your role in a power exchange relationship. We are not trying to punish you or force you away from Jonah. You both need time to learn about your relationship. Sometimes that is easier separately.”

Samuel slid down against the wall, hugging his knees. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry. I’ll go out tonight. I’m sorry.”

“Samuel.” Milton dropped on his knees beside the young man. “You do not have to agree with everything I say. I’m not angry that you don’t want to go out. I understand it’s hard to be away from your partner.”

“But Mike and Sheldon want to go out.”

“What do you want? Your wants are as important as anyone else’s. Don’t let anyone trample on you and that includes us dominants. We’re here to help and support you, not make you do something you don’t want.”

“You make Blade do his homework. I’ve seen you.”

Milton ran his fingers through Samuel’s hair, brushing the fine strands off his forehead. “Blade wants to get a degree. He needs help to stay organized and prioritize his time. I provide that, sometimes with a little discomfort. Does he seem unduly cowed by it?”

Samuel shook his head. He’d seen Blade in trouble--more than once. He’d be tear stained and clingy for a few minutes and then he was bouncing around like a demented kangaroo.  Samuel never felt like that. Maybe Milton didn’t spank very hard. That was difficult to believe as big as he was. He had shoulders as wide as a doorframe. Samuel had decided the Zath brothers were too hyper to notice a spanking. They probably needed a good belting.

“Kid, I don’t expect you to be a Sheldon or Blade.” Milton smiled and tousled Samuel’s hair. “In fact I’m relieved you seem to have a bit more sense. Two Zaths are more than enough for any dominant.” Milton smiled again.

Samuel tried to smile back. Milton was being very nice. “I’m a lot of trouble,” he mumbled.

“Not really,” Milton said kindly. “You’re a nice young man, and I haven’t had to bail you out of jail or chase you down the east coast.”

“You’ve done those things?”

“You don’t want to know.” Milton chuckled. “Some boys are wild and wooly. You’re wonderful.” Milton kissed Samuel’s forehead.

Samuel blushed with pleasure. He hadn’t socialized much in Texas. He was always afraid of giving himself away. He wasn’t use to anyone but Jonah ever noticing him. Samuel fingered the shirt, trying to work up his courage. He wanted to go out, but he didn’t want to be this exposed. It didn’t feel right.

“Come with me.” Milton held out his hand and pulled Samuel to his feet.

“Where are we going?”

“I think you might like a different shirt. Am I right?”

Samuel nodded.

“Your eyes are close to the color of Blade’s. I think he has a silk shirt that will be perfect.”

“Can I wear my jeans?”

“Sure.” Milton smiled. “Don’t let the other guys talk you into things you don’t want to do. That’s the first lesson on surviving in this household; not that my boys ever remember it.”

“I do want to go out,” Samuel said shyly. “That is if you don’t think Jonah will be mad,” he added hastily.

“Jonah will be fine with it, and you’ll have fun. I think you need to have some fun.”

Samuel studied himself for a long time in the bathroom mirror. In his own jeans and Blade’s shirt, he no longer looked like a male prostitute from a second rate movie, but he also didn’t look like Samuel, the nearly invisible stocker at the warehouse sized hardware store. Milton was right; the shirt did look good with his coloring. He’d never thought much about his eye color, but now they looked bright in his otherwise pale face. 

“Do you like that better?” Milton asked, leaning against the bathroom door. 

Samuel nodded. He wasn’t used to being asked about his looks. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about. Jonah had said he was handsome in quiet moments at home, but they didn’t talk about it much. He couldn’t remember what any of the girls had said at school. It had taken all his energy to fake taking a girl to the homecoming dance. He’d spent his time trying to covertly catch glimpses of the football jocks, and he hadn’t dared ask any of them if he was attractive.

“You’re a looker.” Milton moved from the door and with strong fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt. “Show a little skin, sweetie. It is a night out, not a church picnic.”

“I guess I’m not used to it.” Samuel laughed nervously.

“You couldn’t be. I’ve studied Texas. Take your time; you’ll find your footing, and if you slip, we’re here to catch you.” Milton played his fingers through Samuel’s hair, spiking it slightly. “You might like it this way. What do you think?”

“Jonah wouldn’t like it.” Samuel quickly smoothed it back down.

“No, what do you like?” Milton caught Samuel’s wrists, stilling his hands.

“I don’t know.” Samuel mumbled.

“Spiked, purple stripes, mohawk, golden curls? You must have some opinion.”

“I’ve never thought about it.” Samuel squirmed in Milton’s grip. “I just went to the corner barber and had my hair cut. Does it matter?” Samuel could hear his voice rising. Why couldn’t Milton stop with these idiotic questions? It was just hair. You had it cut.

“How would you like your hair?” Milton persisted.

“I don’t fucking care,” Samuel shouted and wrenched away from Milton. 

“Ah, you do have a temper,” Milton said with a faint smile.

“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry,” Samuel repeated.

“Shh. Breathe. Look at me.” Milton’s voice was quiet but penetrating and impossible not to obey. “Do I look upset?”

“No,” Samuel said softly after a minute. He didn’t get this. He was a guest here, and he’d just swore at the master of the house or whatever Milton called himself. Milton should be mad. The other guys didn’t yell at him.

“Why don’t you think I’m mad?”

Samuel shrugged. He didn’t know.

“Wasn’t I giving you a hard time?” Milton asked gently. 

Samuel shrugged again. Milton tapped Samuel on the forehead with his finger, not hard, but Samuel knew it was supposed to mean something.

“Talk to me. I’m pretty good at interpreting shrug, nod, and duck, but I don’t know you well. What was I doing before you cursed at me?”

Samuel buried his hands in his pockets, wanting nothing more than to crawl in there himself. Milton had to punish him. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut, nodded and smiled like a good boy? Getting spanked by Milton--Samuel didn’t want to imagine it. He was big and strong. He wasn’t Jonah.

“Stop.” The hug was crushing. “Now I’ve scared you. Stop with your doomsday scenarios. You’re as white as a sheet. Contrary to what Sheldon and Blade may have told you, I don’t kill boys for cursing at me.”

Milton’s voice was warm. Samuel could hear the touch of humor in it. He didn’t sound strained the way Jonah did before he doled out a punishment.

“Nope, you’re not in trouble with me. I pushed you to anger, and you lashed back at me. Fair is fair; you’re good with me. Now let’s go play before Sheldon and Mike riot.”

“I don’t understand,” Samuel mumbled, still leaning into the warmth of Milton’s big body.

“You will.” Milton kissed the top of Samuel’s head. “Don’t fret. It will all be clear later.”

Samuel let Milton push him down the stairs after a quick trip to Milton and Sheldon’s room where Milton had taken something out a drawer that Samuel couldn’t recognize.

“With Mike I might need these,” Milton had said cryptically. 

Sheldon and Mike were both in the kitchen. Samuel had decided it was everyone’s favorite room. They usually lounged around drinking tea if Tilden was there, otherwise soda or juice. It would be a normal scene if Mike had clothes on. Well, Samuel guessed he had clothes, just not normal clothes. He had a shirt made of mesh or something that was cropped short; Mike’s nipple rings were clearly visible through the material. His jeans or perhaps better described as the few remaining threads of what were once jeans looked impossibly tight and hid nothing.

“Mike, is Tilden OK with that?” Milton asked.

“If I’m with you, sir.”

“So this is how this is playing out. Get over here, boy.” Milton snapped his fingers. Mike scurried to obey, dropping to his knees at Milton’s feet.

“Don’t look mortified,” Sheldon said hooking his arm around Samuel and pulling him close. “Tilden and Milton set this up this afternoon. I know because I was asked if it would bother me,” Sheldon whispered. “Mike likes this kind of thing, and Milton does too. I hate it, and could you see Tilden playing at this? He’s much too correct. So this is their little compromise; Milton plays with Mike, and everyone’s happy.”

“Play?”

“Yep, you’ve never seen guys play before?”

“No,” Samuel said shocked.  “Mike’s clothes.”

“I know.” Sheldon laughed. “That’s why Milton’s going to leash him tonight. Even Milton couldn’t keep people from pawing Mike tonight without a leash.”

“Why wear them?”

Sheldon smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with liking a little attention. Mike’s got a good body. Why not?” Sheldon paused. “You do the middle class suburbia horror well. It’s harmless, and it should be good fun for us also. Milton can really put on a show if he’s in the right mood.”

Samuel watched both fascinated and horrified as Milton buckled a thin leather collar around Mike’s neck and snapped on a leash. He gave a slight tug, and Mike rose, keeping his eyes down and his hands behind his back.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Sheldon hooted.

“Play is much safer when both parties understand the parameters,” Milton said in that tone that Samuel could imagine him standing in front of a class giving a lecture. “Come, boys. The midnight oil is burning.”

They all piled into Milton’s station wagon. “Sit in the far back. Then we can chat without being overheard,” Sheldon said.

“Don’t scare him,” Milton warned.

“I’m not the one leading someone around with a leash. Now that’s scary,” Sheldon teased.

“Careful, boy or I’ll put you on a leash too.”

“Over my dead body.”

“And you thought I had my boys tamed,” Milton said to Samuel, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “I just can’t get Sheldon to agree with me on this. He just doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“I have plenty of fun. It just doesn’t involve leather or kneeling,” Sheldon shot back, laughing. “I can show you fun later tonight.”

“Brat,” Milton growled but even Samuel could hear the tease in the growl.

Samuel found himself squeezed between Mike and Sheldon. Sitting in the middle, he couldn’t pretend to look out the window, not that he could have seen much anyway in the dark, but at least he wouldn’t have to make conversation. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sheldon or Mike; they both seemed perfectly nice, but they were a different kind of animal. It was as if those two men were from a different planet than Samuel. They moved with such confidence around the tops; Samuel preferred not to be seen. Luke was easier to understand; he was quiet and stayed close to Tilden, a man he clearly adored. Tilden was soft spoken and his smile genuine, but Samuel knew he was a top. Samuel had found himself gently cornered and asked prying questions he didn’t want to answer.

“Sammy, you’re quiet. Is something the matter?” Sheldon asked.

“I’m Samuel, not Sammy,” Samuel responded automatically. Jonah always wanted him to be Samuel.

“I know. I can always get a rise out of you calling you Sammy.” Sheldon elbowed Samuel none too gently. “What are you brooding about? Milton wasn’t mad at you, but you did spend forever getting a new shirt. And I like it; it looks good on you. Mike’s more the leather and mesh type of guy.”

“I know how to have fun,” Mike shot back, “without finding myself draped facedown over someone’s knee.”

“Walking on a leash like a pet. You’re crazy.”

“I don’t go on regimes of getting spanked every morning. That’s crazy!” 

“Careful,” Milton said from upfront. 

“We were just messing with each other,” Sheldon said quickly.

“It was starting to sound a little nasty,” Milton said calmly. “Does someone need to sit up front?”

Mike and Sheldon both chorused, “No.”

“Samuel, is it getting too rough for you back there?”

“No, sir.” He didn’t want to sit up front alone with Milton.

“Be good, guys.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen with you.” Mike laughed and reached over Samuel and slapped at Sheldon’s hip. “You’re pushing for a hot butt. Red hair and red butts must go together.”

“Mike, not now,” Sheldon said. “I’m not blowing through his stop sign tonight. I’ve done the side of the road spanking; it’s not one of my favorite pastimes.”

“What?” Samuel found himself saying before he could stop himself. He couldn’t imagine the horror of being spanked in the open. Jonah always did it at home in the kitchen. It was an awful thing. Samuel didn’t even like to think about it, and they were kidding about open air spankings, like it was a picnic activity.

“Yep, kid, you better believe it,” Sheldon said with a horrible fake Texas twang before reverting to his normal accent. “That was a warning. You’ll learn to hear it in your top’s voice. Milton’s voice gets deeper and his pronunciation more exact, as if he wants to make sure I understand. Blade and I got into it yesterday; I’m really not into another real spanking today. He’s a little too good with the paddle for that. Milton doesn’t do sibling rivalry. Of course,” Sheldon dropped his voice conspiratorially, “it’s the quickest way I know to get a spanking.”

“And you still haven’t told me why you wanted one.” Milton’s voice wafted from the front.

“You’re not supposed to be eavesdropping.”

“You and Mike just about got into it. Of course I’m eavesdropping. I know Mike’s stressed; he finished a major paper and had two midterms.”

“Tilden was all over me about the paper,” Mike muttered.

“Were you happy with it in the end?” Milton asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s why Tilden was all over you as you put it. I’ve lived with you long enough to know for all your chatter and protests to the contrary that you do not like to hand in slipshod work. Tilden realizes this; he’s sensitive to your moods.”

“I know,” Mike muttered and then laughed. “It’s just no fun when it’s happening. He was all over me, and if he brought me another cup of tea, I thought I was going to float away.”

Milton snorted. “You’re lucky you weren’t rooming with Tilden when he was doing his dissertation. I made several emergency runs for tea at midnight. Have you ever tried finding tea at an all night convenient mart?” Milton snorted again. “Don’t. Fortunately the groceries in Boston stay open all night.”

Mike laughed. “I wasn’t that stressed out.”

“No, because Tilden was managing it,” Sheldon said, poking Mike in the shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve seen lots of tops managing stressing boys. Tilden was managing.”

“And Milton manages you all the time,” Mike sneered.

“What’s wrong with that? I’m the bratty boy; it’s my job to keep the top busy. Milton needs to stay in training. He’d never manage Blade if I hadn’t trained him.”

“No one can manage Blade. That boy’s a lunatic,” Mike said.

“Poor Jason has him tonight. I hope he ate his Wheaties,” Sheldon joked.

“Braxton’s got to be a breeze after that,” Mike said.

“I don’t know. I saw him go after Gordon the other day. I won’t even do that. Gordon can be tough.”

Samuel had been letting the conversation wash over him. He really didn’t understand what they were talking about, and he couldn’t imagine asking for a spanking. That was what Sheldon was implying, wasn’t he? When Jonah strapped Samuel it was awful. Jonah was frozen faced and angry, and Samuel hated bending over the table, his hands threatening to slip off the smooth wood.

“You’re quiet,” Sheldon said and poked Samuel in the ribs. 

“Thinking,” Samuel mumbled.

“Too much work. Let the tops do that,” Sheldon said.

“I don’t know,” Samuel started and then fell silent. He wanted to understand these relationships. It was so different from Texas, but he couldn’t ask. He’d never feel comfortable gabbing away about a spanking. 

Sheldon draped his arm over Samuel’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Is everything OK between you and Milton? You were upstairs a long time. Did you get in trouble?”

“No,” Samuel said hastily. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Kiddo, you’re with the boy who has been in more trouble than a carload of adolescent boys. You can certainly share it with your Uncle Sheldon.”

“I don’t like getting in trouble; I’m not like you.”

Sheldon laughed. “Do you think I like getting in trouble?”

“Yes. That’s what it sounded like,” Samuel said defensively. Why had he ever opened his mouth? He was wrong as usual.

“I like Milton being in control. I like knowing he’s there for me, that he’ll keep me within acceptable boundaries. My life before him was frightening. I can’t believe I did some of those things when I look back on it. Milton keeps me inside the limits I want, and he will remind me if I’m not there.”  Sheldon paused, and Samuel felt him shift around as if he were looking for reassurance from Milton. “Kid, this is even hard for me to talk about when I’m being serious. I don’t do serious well.”

“You’re doing a good job,” Milton’s voice came softly from the front of the car.

“This is hard. What do I say?”

“Exactly what you’ve been saying.”

“It’s easy to yak and joke about getting spanked or tortured by tyrannical doms, but it’s hard to talk about what it’s really about.”

“Sheldon, take your time. You’ve already given Samuel a lot to think about.”

“But he doesn’t get it,” Sheldon whined.

“No, he doesn’t. You didn’t learn to be my boy overnight just like it took me years to figure out how to top you effectively, and I’m still occasionally left flabbergasted.”

“You don’t show it.”

“I hide it well. That’s part of my end of this relationship to be the beacon of calm when you’re being buffeted in all directions. I still don’t know why you wanted me to spank you yesterday. I hope you tell me soon, or we’re going to have a stormy weekend.”

“I will,” Sheldon said softly. “I’m just not ready yet.”

“Please do it before it’s all out war between the two of you,” Mike snarked. “I prefer not to be in the path of collateral damage.”

“I don’t make nasty comments when you and Tilden are at each other throats or you’re crouching at his feet like a dimwitted submissive.”

“Shut the fuck up! At least I didn’t cheat my way through college.”

“Boys.” Milton’s voice cracked through the car like a whip. Samuel cringed and bit his lip. Milton was mad. What was going to happen to him? He hadn’t been doing anything. Would he be punished also? Sheldon must have felt him shudder because he squeezed him tighter and dropped a kiss on his forehead the way the tops did.

“You’re not in trouble. We are. It’s not going to be pretty for the next few minutes, but Milton’s fair about this. I was being an ass, and so was he.” Sheldon jerked his thumb at Mike.

Mike didn’t answer. He stared out the window into the darkness and the passing car headlights. Samuel heard the clink of the blinker and felt the car slow. Milton must have found somewhere to pull off. Sheldon peered out the window at the decrepit building and fading sign.

“Wonderful, I’m going to get spanked at an abandoned fried chicken place. I should collect souvenir postcards or something. Page twenty-nine of my scrapbook--deserted chicken joint.”

Samuel didn’t say anything. He couldn’t imagine joking about an impending whipping. Samuel glanced over fearfully as Milton opened the door. In the security lights of the parking lot, he looked calm, but maybe he hid it well.

“Sheldon, Mike, have I not made it clear how we treat each other?”

Samuel heard two guilty mumbles. He didn’t know if he should say anything. He studied the worn upholstery of the bench seat. That seemed safe.

“Samuel, you’re not in trouble. You were an innocent bystander.” Milton reached in and brushed Samuel’s hair back from his forehead. “I won’t hurt them. Come, Sheldon.” Milton held out his hand, and Sheldon reached out and took it.

Samuel flinched as the door shut, glad he was not being led out into the murky darkness.

“Milton’s a good guy,” Mike said softly. “We both deserve this. Fighting is stupid, especially when he’s trying so hard to give us a way to unwind. Stupid! Fucking stupid!” Mike slammed his hand into the seat in front of him. “He doesn’t like to have to punish me and now I’ve made him. I need a fucking lobotomy.”  Mike fell silent again.

Samuel turned away, trying to give Mike privacy. He didn’t know how to comfort someone before a spanking. These guys touched all the time, but he didn’t feel comfortable putting his arm around Mike’s shoulders.

The car door opened, and Sheldon slid back in, still sniffling and wiping his eyes. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Milton, from the other side, held out his hand to Mike.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike mumbled.

“I know. It’s not the end of the world, but you know how I feel about this kind of thing.” Samuel heard Milton say as he pulled Mike from the car.

“Put your arms around me, please, Sammy.” Sheldon’s voice sounded hoarse and tearful.

“I don’t understand.”

“I want a hug. I just got thoroughly squashed, and I want to be held.”

Embarrassed and unsure. Samuel placed an arm around Sheldon’s shoulder. Sheldon dropped his head against Samuel’s chest and leaned into the other man. 

“Thank you,” Sheldon said after a minute.

“For what?”

“For not pushing me away. I know you’re not used to this. Milton just soundly thrashed me while giving me an absolutely blistering lecture. God!” Sheldon sat up, hissing as he moved. “How do I get myself in such trouble? I know better-- about a thousand times as Milton so thoughtfully pointed out.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Sore and wishing Milton was holding me.” Sheldon gave Samuel a wistful smile. “Mike, for all his bravado, isn’t all that comfortable when Milton has to spank him. It will take a few minutes. Milton would usually have held me longer, but I told him you would do, and he shouldn’t make Mike wait. Can I lean against you again?”

“I guess.” Samuel heard the tentativeness in his own voice. “What do I do?”

“Just let me lean on you. Milton would rub my back or stroke my hair.”

Samuel laid his hand on Sheldon’s back, rubbing slowly. He’d never touched another man this way, not even Jonah. They weren’t demonstratively affectionate. Samuel wondered what it would feel like to have his partner hold and comfort him. Sheldon had curled against him, sighing softly as Samuel stroked down his back. Samuel’s daydreams were disturbed by the sound of the car doors. Mike was in the front and Milton was looming over them. Samuel jerked his hands off Sheldon and pushed him upright.

“Samuel what you were doing wasn’t wrong. In fact it was very right.” Milton’s voice was warm and soft. “Are you all right, Sheldon?”

“Yes, sorry, that was stupid earlier.”

“We’ve talked about it.” Milton kissed Sheldon’s cheek with a tenderness that made Samuel have to fight to suppress a tingle of envy. Milton’s fingers played in Sheldon’s hair, and Sheldon unashamedly leaned into his partner and drank up the comfort. “I love you.” The words were whispered, a private affirmation between two lovers. Samuel blushed hotly, feeling that he shouldn’t be watching or listening, but he couldn’t draw his eyes away. Milton kissed Sheldon’s forehead and then his lips in almost a chaste brush. “You’re my good boy.” Another soft kiss and Milton turned toward Samuel, his voice more robust. “Did you survive this?”

“Yes, sir,” Samuel managed, knowing he was staring at Milton like he was some three headed creature. He was a huge man, a scary man, and yet he’d been tender and gentle, qualities that Samuel had always been told were for women and sissies. Milton wasn’t a sissy, even Samuel could tell that.

“Try to have a good time tonight.” Milton ruffled Samuel’s hair. “I know you feel like you’ve ended up in a fun house where all the rules you thought you knew are now bent at crazy angles. We’ll all help you sort it out, but it won’t happen in one night.”

Samuel managed a nod, not sure if a response was needed. 

“No more excitement, guys,” Milton said cheerily. “One spanking a night is ample.” Milton winked at Samuel. “What do you think the odds are that we can have a peaceful evening?”

“I’ll be angelic. I promise,” Sheldon said, a hint of his usual zest in his voice.

“Right and what about you, boy? Milton raised his voice so it was obvious he was talking to Mike.

“Yes, sir. My butt cheeks are already the proper shade of red.”

“Impossible brats. I’m sure you’re never this much trouble.” Milton kissed Samuel’s forehead. “We’re off to round two. May fortune favor the foolish.”