Mike's Saga 6

Mike’s Saga 6

Josh found a parking spot, and he and Jer both climbed out. Josh kept his arm wrapped around Mike’s shoulders, and somewhere in the interval of jostling and climbing out of the truck, he had caught Gabe’s hand and showed no inclination of letting go. Jer walked next to them, looking comfortable and normal in his dark topcoat and cashmere scarf. Jer was always self-possessed, so in control. There was a dignity that clung to Jer unless he was intentionally clowning. Mike almost never saw that side, maybe a glimpse at a Green Mountain Boy party, but Steve said Jer could be a real cut up in the right moments with an acidic wit and an ability to mimic anyone from Gordon at his worst moments to the superciliousness of some of his colleagues.

“Are you coming in?” Mike knew it was a stupid question. Josh had parked the truck. He was, of course, coming inside. 

Josh didn’t respond. He took his arm off Mike’s shoulders and slid his keycard into the lock.

“You don’t need to.”

“I wouldn’t, Mike,” Jer said softly as he held the door open. “Graceful submission. Josh will win in a fight. Do you want another fight tonight, or do you want what you really crave? It’s about willing submission, not battles.”

Mike kept his mouth shut as they climbed the stairs. Did he want another fight? He never gave in; that’s what Milton always said.

“Don’t over think it,” Jer said in Mike’s ear. “Part of the submission is letting the dominant do the thinking for a change.”

“I’m not a dolt. I don’t need someone thinking for me.” 

“It’s about wants and desires, not intelligence. I like physics; I don’t like ordering dinner at restaurants or making vacation plans. I don’t even like deciding what to wear in the morning, not that I don’t make that decision. Josh won’t micromanage, but I’d let him.”

Josh reached over and caught Jer’s hand in his, tangling their fingers together. “You hate my taste in ties. You wouldn’t like it if I chose them.”

Jer gave Josh a sharp look before dropping his eyes for a split second.

“I overheard your conversation, and I won’t pretend otherwise. My submissive has no right to privacy.”

“Yes, sir.” Jer dropped his eyes again.

“Thank you,” Josh said gently, a wisp on a smile on his lips. “Mike, you want this. You’re making me force it right now, but you want it. You want the easy grace and the easy acceptance. It’s not about how hard your dominant can hit you, not that the physical part can’t play an important role. It’s about your acceptance and surrender. You tease with flashes of surrender, but instead of surrender, you retreat, you fight, and then you despise yourself.”

“I don’t want lectured,” Mike said, his hand on the doorknob to his apartment. “I know I’m a fuck up.”

Mike should have remembered how fast Josh could move. Mike’s head crashed into the door as Josh pinned him, his hand on Mike’s throat, his eyes alight with a strange fire. Mike could see the faint stubble on Josh’s face from an early morning shave now starting to grow; he could feel the heat of the dragon’s breath against his cheek.

“Give it up, boy.”

Mike didn’t get a chance to answer. A shadow loomed over both of them, a man in tan topcoat with shiny shoes and a garment bag in one hand.

“Is there a problem?” His accent wasn’t from Boston, perhaps the Midwest or the Great Plains. His voice was calm, but in control and strongly assertive. “Are you hurt?” he asked Mike as Josh stepped away and turned to face the stranger.

“Fine.” Mike knew there was a red flush on his cheeks. A stranger was rescuing him. He didn’t need a white knight. He was fine.

“Jack!” Gabe threw himself at the stranger and would have wrapped around him like a hungry boa constrictor if the stranger hadn’t caught both of Gabe’s wrists in a practiced motion. “I thought you were out of town until next week.”

“It settled,” Jack said calmly, his eyes still on Josh. He seemed to be studying Josh, his gaze steady and unruffled. This was a man comfortable with authority.

“Come in and have some coffee.” Josh took the keycard from Mike and pushed the door open.

The apartment’s kitchen was small. With five men in it, the area was tiny, a scrap of floorspace between the counter and the table. Jer gravitated toward the living room, and with an easy and confusing authority drew Josh and Gabe with him.

“Mike make the coffee. Cut the pie also,” Jer said, his bulk settling on the sofa.

Mike didn’t have enough coffee cups. He scavenged in the dishwasher for the mug from the donut shop. Jack hadn’t gone with the others. He stood against the wall, tall and broad shouldered with a look of watchfulness on his face.

“I’m Jack Cramer. That was an unusual meeting.” The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked upward in a small smile.

“Mike Stoller.” Mike didn’t look up from the coffee pot. 

“Are you his boy?” The question was blunt and unapologetic.

Mike drew a steadying breath and turned to look at Jack. “No. Are you Gabe’s dom?”

The smile was very genuine; the blue eyes shown with real amusement. “Not a boy who needed rescue, were you? And the answer is no, but I’m working on it.”

“He’s a sub.”

“No kidding.” Jack grabbed the lone kitchen chair and straddled it. “I take it the guy crashing you into the door is a dom.”

“Yes, that’s Josh. Jer’s his partner.”

“And what are you?”

“Friend. He had my permission,” Mike added.

“Complicated.” Jack ran his hand across the table, brushing a few leftover breakfast crumbs into a tidy pile. 

“Very.” Mike cut the pie and set it on plates. “I wasn’t being hurt.”

“I can tell. You’re not the frightened, bashed on type. Why was Gabe with you?”

“Locked himself out.”

Jack looked to the ceiling and rolled his eyes. “That’s at least the sixth time.”

“Why don’t you stop it?”

“Definitely not the shy, retreating type,” Jack said with another smile. “We’ve talked. Gabe’s hesitant. He’s never subbed before. It’s all scary and foreign and more than a little weird to him.”

“Josh and I put on a show earlier. He didn’t run screaming. Probably should have.”

“Coffee’s done.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?” Mike reached automatically for the cups and started pouring.

“That pie looks good. I’m starving.”

“God, dominants!”

“Serve the coffee, boy,” Jack said with a broad grin and a half swipe at Mike’s ass. “And, Mike,” Jack said as Mike poured coffee, “I’ll talk to Gabe. I hope it works this time.”

“Make him listen.”

Jack’s stare was suddenly all too knowing. He reached out and caught Mike’s wrist. “You haven’t been listening to someone, have you? That’s why Josh is here. He’s a Green Mountain Boy. I knew I recognized him from somewhere. He’s trying to fix something.”

It’s not your business.”

“No, it’s not, but is Gabe and my relationship your business?”

“No,” Mike muttered, feeling a flush rising on his face.

“Hey.” Jack caught Mike’s chin and forced his eyes up. “You gave me good advice. I’ll try to give you the same. You’re not a helpless boy. Make it happen. Put it back together.”

“It’s not so easy I fucked up.”

“Well, un-fuck up. Do the right thing, and I’ll do my best to do the right thing for Gabe. Deal?”

Deal.” Mike said slowly, and blinked back and unwelcome sheen of tears. He wasn’t going there. He was tough; he could handle this.

“You don’t have to be tough all the time. Sometimes the other is good too.”

Mike jerked away and wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “You bastard!”

“Mike.” Jack’s hand was heavy on Mike’s shoulder. “You’re easy to read. I have no idea of the details, but you’re hurting, and you have men who want to make it better. Let them, and I’ll work on it with Gabe. I promise.” Jack reached for the coffee pot and finished pouring. “Come out to the living room when you’re ready.”

Bastard! Mike kicked at the skirting board. He hadn’t asked to be lectured. He controlled his own destiny. He didn’t need some damn dominant telling him what to do.

“Kid.” Josh’s arms were heavy, and the hug was almost painful in its intensity. “Go home. You belong there.”