Austin's Diary - Sheldon's Troubles

Austin’s Diary - Sheldon’s Troubles

I was planning a quiet night in. Milton and Sheldon had to meet some new couple interested in the GMB. Sheldon seemed less than thrilled in going from his sour face and banged drawers as they were getting ready, but Milton was adamant that Sheldon was going and upped the ante with several sharp cracks of Milton’s palm against Sheldon’s trouser seat. Sheldon looked none too repentant in my mind; I would have been diving for cover, but Sheldon just rolled his eyes and knotted his tie.

“Wear the blue tie,” Milton said, pulling the navy tie from the hanger.

“I already have this one on.”

“And I said the blue.” Milton leaned against the wall, looking suddenly imposing, not that the man didn’t always look imposing. I didn’t think academics were supposed to be imposing, but big shoulders, big hands, and unbending will were imposing.

“Fine.” Sheldon snatched the blue tie from Milton’s hand and tore the green tie off his throat. “You happy now?”

“Not overly.” That was the understatement of the year. Milton was looking like one of those famed hunks of Vermont granite. They stared for a second before Sheldon dropped his eyes and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Sorry.”

“Thank you,” Milton said softly, taking the tie from Sheldon’s hand and deftly tying it around his neck. He kissed Sheldon’s cheek as he finished. “It will be a nice dinner. You like Mecklenburg’s.”

Sheldon grunted and eyed my sandwich. With Milton out for the evening, dinner had been relaxed, and I was eating ham and cheese with a generous dollop of brown mustard and barbecued chips. It was damn cool to be allowed to lounge around in my grubby jeans and T-shirt and eat dinner with my hands. Milton was beyond old-fashioned about the dinner thing: decent clothes, silverware, and adult conversation. Playing a silly game on my tablet while eating was out.

“I know you don’t like the dominant, but maybe you met him on a bad day. Give him a chance.” Milton stroked his fingers through Sheldon’s hair.

“He was insufferable,” Sheldon spat.

“Hey.” Milton land a swat that made me flinch. “We’re not starting the night by trying to antagonize our guests. Am I understood?”

Sheldon answered in the expected way. “Yes, Milton.”

Milton traced his finger around Sheldon’s neck. “Do you want it tonight. It would be invisible under your shirt.” His body shifted toward the drawer where they kept the collar with its soft leather and engraved name plate.

“No.” Sheldon took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair before giving Milton a shaky smile. “I’ll be OK.”

“Sheldon.” Milton’s hand rubbed his partner’s shoulder. “I know that on your side of our partnership you take the brunt of a difficult dominant. It’s not as easy for you as Landon. He’s a true switch.”

“And is richer than God,” Sheldon muttered. “The assholes respect money.”

“Boy!” Milton cupped Sheldon’s chin in his hand. “Do you think I’ll leave you unprotected? Do you not trust me?”

Sheldon’s eyes flew open, a gorgeous green that reminded me of the lushest forests. Stupid image I know, but I’m a closet romantic. I can’t help myself.

“Milton.” Sheldon leaned into his lover. Milton’s arms came around him so easily; they were beautiful to watch. Milton stood, his chin resting on Sheldon’s red hair; no words passed between them. I knew I shouldn’t be watching, but I longed for that easy intimacy. My relationship with Milton would never look like that; it was more like the bumper cars at the amusement park. I hurled from one smashup to the next.

“Be good, cub,” Milton said distractedly as he guided Sheldon out the door.

Chips and a sandwich and a distracted demand to be good were all I got for the evening. I set my plate on the floor and pulled my knees up and hugged myself. Jesus! I hadn’t wanted to go anyway. Sheldon would have been thrilled to trade places with me, and Milton would have taken me if I’d asked. Yeah, and everybody looks at me with their minds spinning, trying to figure out what the hell I am to Milton and Sheldon. I’d wanted the TV and the computer games, so suck it up and get with it.

Tilden poked his head in about fifteen minutes later to ask if I wanted popcorn and to watch some movie—not in English of course. The popcorn was good. I can’t really tell you what went on in the film. I don’t like reading my films, but there was companionship and the easy babble of Luke and Tilden’s rapid Russian.

Russian films are long, but we hadn’t made it through the first part when the back door flew open with the sort of bang that would have every top on the muscle.

“I’ll be in the fucking corner! You can come beat me at your leisure.”

Tilden wrapped his arm around my chest before I could fly up. I’d never heard Sheldon frantic with his voice thick with tears. 

“But…” I didn’t know what to say; I just knew something was wrong. Sheldon’s voice burned through me.

“They’ve done this before. It will be all right,” Tilden said.

“It’s Sheldon being manic. You haven’t seen the full display yet. Just stay well out of the firing line unless you have Kevlar body armor,” Mike said with a grin. “He does like to play with fire.”

I jumped at the crashing sound from upstairs.

“Fuck off! We’re not doing this tonight.’

I couldn’t hear Milton’s answers; Milton wasn’t a shouter. I heard the distinct sound of wood on bare flesh; multiple doors can’t hide that sound, not after personal experience. It’s beyond distinct; it’s burned into my soul and my flesh. God, it was going on forever. Mike turned up the TV, but it still reverberated through the house along with Sheldon’s howls.

“Let me go!” I jerked from Tilden’s grasp. Milton would have come after me if I tried that, but Tilden let me go, and I charged upstairs. I crumpled to my knees at the shut door and listened to the shattering sobs.

“Sheldon, sweetheart, you did this the hard way.” Milton’s voice was clear through the walls, raised to be heard over Sheldon’s sobs. “I’ve got you. It’s not life threatening.”

I listened, huddled against the wall, scared to go in and too stubborn to go back downstairs. Finally the sobs stopped, replaced by choked words and rattling breaths.

“Sorry. Sorry.”

“Shh, I know. Let’s get you to bed.”

Sheldon groaned. “It hurts to move.”

I heard the creak of the floor and indistinct whispers. I knew the sounds of going to bed. I listened to them every night. I knew the sound of the lamp being switched off and the moan of the bed under Milton’s bulk.

“Austin!” I stumbled to my feet. Milton was in the doorway, both exasperation and concern written across his face. “How long have you been here?”

I looked at him, but managed no words.

“Too long,” he answered his own question. “Sheldon will be fine.” Milton gave me a tired smile. “I haven’t killed him yet. I want you to sleep downstairs.”

“Noooo” I’m not too proud to say I whined. Sheldon calls me a world class whiner, and Milton usually has a zero tolerance policy.

“Cub.” Milton’s voice made me shiver. “This is not a debate. I expect your obedience.”

“You hurt Sheldon! What did you do to him?”

“Austin, do you need to be punished tonight also?” Milton grabbed my upper arm, squeezing too hard for comfort. “Answer me.”

“No.” I swiped at the tear that was leaking from my eye. “Let me go.”

“Listen to me.” Milton sat down on the floor and pulled me down on top of him. Struggling against the Vermont version of the cranky giant was impossible. “Good boy.”

Yeah, I wasn’t moving, but I wasn’t being good. If I’d had another few kilograms, I’d taken a swing at him. 

“I punished Sheldon tonight; you understand that. It hurt him; I won’t lie to you.” Milton tangled his fingers in my hair, stroking gently. “He understands his obligations to this relationship. Punishment wasn’t a surprise.”

“What did he do?”

“That’s for him to tell you if he chooses.” Milton tightened his arm around my body. “Sheldon needs all of me tonight. I need to have you sleep downstairs. Can you do that for me?”

“Can I see him?” My imagination was going wild—Sheldon beaten and bloody. 

“Come.” Milton interlaced his fingers in mine and hauled me to my feet.

Sheldon was sprawled across the bed, covered only by one of Milton’s oversized sweatshirts. Below the edge of the sweatshirt the skin glowed crimson even in only the faint light from the hall.

“Sheldon!” 

Sheldon lifted his head, his eyes swollen and red. “I’m still here, cub. He didn’t kill me, not that he didn’t try, and not that it wasn’t deserved.” Sheldon gave me a weak grin, almost a grimace compared to his usual blinding smile.

“What happened?” I tentatively touched Sheldon’s hair.

“A bit of everything, but the pitcher of iced tea over a guy’s head tends to have guaranteed results.”

“It does,” Milton said wryly.

“He was a prick.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t, but tea belongs in glasses, not on people’s heads, and you are not ignorant of that fact.”

“Yes, sir.” Sheldon bit his lip and looked at the edge of tears again.

“Boy.” Milton moved close to the bed and ran his finger down Sheldon’s cheek. “We know this little dance; everything will be fine. I know what to do. Austin, get your pajamas and go downstairs.” Milton hooked an arm around my neck and brushed a kiss against my lips. “Everything will be fine,” he repeated.