The Final Countdown 2

The Final Countdown 2

“Austin, we’re home.”

Austin lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. That boy could sleep anywhere, and ten minutes in the car usually found him snoring. “Wonderful. I wanted to see the fireworks.”

“Milton asked us to come home.”

“It was a text. You could have pretended you didn’t get it.” Austin unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out of the car. 

“Austin,” Sheldon said into the empty space before grabbing the keys and climbing from the car. Austin was already at the door, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his water bottle dangling from his hand. He hadn’t noticed the European roadster in the driveway. Landon and Gordon were here with a new car in dashing racing red. The car was a beauty; Sheldon opened the door and looked at the leather wrapped steering wheel and the circular gauges in a real wood dashboard.

“Sheldon, I’ll take you for a drive later.” Landon was on the porch, waving him inside.

So who had screwed up now? Austin had sworn he wasn’t in trouble. Sheldon didn’t appreciated surprises from unknown brewing disasters and had quizzed Austin before the kid had fallen asleep. It had to be Mike; Luke didn’t cause trouble, and Sheldon had been a distinctly good boy. Austin had even accused him of being top like. Milton had just called it getting older, but Sheldon blushed at some of his younger day idiocy. It was a miracle that Milton hadn’t tossed him out on the street or beaten him black and blue. Milton was harder on Austin; he used the belt and the cane. Austin cried hard if Milton laid into him, the sobs loud enough that Sheldon went upstairs and hid in the bathroom with the water running. His little boy shouldn’t be crying like that. Pissing at Milton for clobbering Austin hadn’t worked out too well. Milton had delivered a very un-fun spanking followed by a long lecture.

“Austin isn’t you, and I’m not the same dominant I was when I brought you home.” Milton had wrapped his arms around Sheldon. “It’s noble to want to protect our cub, but Austin can stand on his own two feet. He needs to accept that submission actually means submitting. It’s hard to obey at eighteen. I expect him to struggle, but he chose us. I’m the head of the Green Mountain Boys; I’m not the most flexible man on the planet.” Milton kissed Sheldon’s forehead. “It’s my inflexibility and perceived harshness that attracts Austin, even though he is poorly equipped for true harshness. He doesn’t manage pain well, and I don’t hit him hard. He’s dramatic to the extreme.”

“Shouts down the house,” Sheldon had muttered.

“Don’t I know.” Milton tousled Sheldon’s hair. “Go give him a cuddle. He’s had enough of me for the moment, but he’d appreciate a warm and sympathetic body. Only try not to spoil him too much; I already have one thoroughly spoiled boy.”

“I’m not spoiled.”

Milton raised one eyebrow. “Right, but I’m the one who spoils you, so I guess I’m the guilty party here.”

“Sheldon, quit dawdling.” Landon had come off the porch and grabbed Sheldon’s elbow.

“Where’s the fire? Yow!” Landon’s hand had landed crisply across Sheldon’s shorts.

“Not now.”

“Landon! That wasn’t fair. What’s going on?” Sheldon flopped down on the bottom porch step. “So what the hell did Mike do?” It had to be Mike. No one else had been in the stupid mode recently, and he’d been courting disaster.

Landon leaned against the porch stair railing and smiled softly, almost sadly. “It’s not Mike. I’ll let Milton tell you, but just remember Milton loves you. You will always be his special boy.”

“What’s wrong with Milton?” Sheldon asked, panic rising in his throat. Milton hadn’t been sick; he didn’t have a doctor’s appointment. Milton didn’t keep that sort of thing from Sheldon. They were lovers; they knew everything about each other.

“Come on.” Landon reached down and took Sheldon’s hand. “Milton can explain it better than I can.”

They were in the living room. Gordon had his arm around an uncomfortable and squirming Austin. Luke and Mike were sitting together, but more back to back than comfortably entwined. The usual hostility was radiating off Mike. Milton said something when it rose to intolerable levels, but that was Tilden’s job. Tilden wasn’t an ass kicking dominant and that was what Mike needed. Reasoning with someone who wanted to kneel and beg wasn’t a successful strategy. It wasn’t a strategy at all; it was avoidance. Tilden tried, but Tilden was sweet and dear. He asked Mike to kneel; he didn’t knock him to the floor with a single snarl. Tilden and Milton were standing against the far wall. Milton’s hand was on Tilden’s back and their heads were nearly touching. Tilden looked pale, dressed in his work clothes of khakis and a buttoned up Oxford. Milton was more casual. He hadn’t changed from his jeans and polo, but Sheldon knew his man, and Milton was nervous.

Milton cleared his throat, a sound that shot through Sheldon’s nervous system. Milton didn’t clear his throat. He didn’t hem or haw, He just put everything out on the table, and that was life. Milton closed the short space between the sofa and the wall. His hand stroked through Sheldon’s hair as his deep brown eyes locked with Sheldon’s greens.

“God, I love you. Please hang in there. Please.”

“What? What happen?” Sheldon asked, trying to get off the sofa, but finding that Landon refused to release Sheldon’s arm.

“Tilden and I,” Milton started hesitantly. “Tilden and I… Our relationship is no longer platonic.”

Sheldon stared at Milton. Had he heard right? Did he understand the meaning?

“Think, boy,” Gordon rumbled from across the room.

“Fuck you!” Sheldon hurled himself at Milton. “You’re supposed to love me. You at least asked about Austin.” Sheldon wanted to hit, but Milton was too big and too familiar. He found his head on Milton’s chest, his arms wrapped around his dom, the tears shaking his frame. Milton had his arms around Sheldon also, and he was crying. Tears splashed on Sheldon’s hair: harsh, broken and painful. This was Milton; this was solidness and absoluteness. Those horrible shattered sounds couldn’t be coming from him. 

Someone pulled them into the kitchen. It had to be Gordon; Milton would follow Gordon. Coffee was slapped down onto the table with the rattle of good china.

“Drink the coffee. Stare at each other and work this out. You love each other too much to throw it away.” The kitchen door banged, and Sheldon was alone with Milton.

The coffee was black and hot and way too strong. It had to have been Landon’s brew; his coffee could be used as wood stain or a commercial solvent.

“Milton, what happened?” Sheldon asked when his coffee was only a ring of dark grinds at the bottom of the cup.

Milton didn’t look up, his hand played on the delicate china of the cup incongruous against the wide palm and thick fingers. “Tilden and I in the study. God, it sounds like one of those Clue games. We ended up on the floor.”

“Why? What couldn’t I give you? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“Sheldon, it’s not your failing; it’s mine.”

“You would kill me if I’d fucked Luke or Mike or some random boy off the street. Am I supposed to go on as if nothing has happened? Am I supposed to listen to some damn advice of Gordon’s backed up by the cane and pretend nothing has changed, that we’re still one happy family?”

“No.” Milton took a long swallow of coffee.

“What the hell am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to feel? You’re the dominant. Dominate me. Tell me what to do.”

“I can’t,” Milton said very softly. “You have the right to be angry.”

“I want you to tell me what the fuck to do. Am I still your lover, your submissive, your husband, or is this a divorce? Is this supposed to be some giant Roman orgy where we fuck each other at will? Why don’t we call Ryan and Blade? They’re both good and virile. The more the merrier. Am I supposed to kneel to Tilden? Or maybe I’m supposed to be the naked slave boy available for everyone’s use?”

“Sheldon.” Milton reached across the table and grabbed Sheldon’s hand. “I love you. I will always love you. Please don’t leave.”

The plea was raw and honest and tore though Sheldon’s anger. “Oh, God! Shit! What do we now?”

“We try to make this work.”

“All of us?” Sheldon studied Milton, seeing the intense pain in every line of Milton’s face and in the smoldering darkness of his eyes.

“I don’t see any other way.”

“Your fling with Tilden wasn’t a one off?”

“I’ve loved Tilden for years, but this was the first time.”

Sheldon reached for the coffee pot. Tilden had known Milton longer than anyone, but Gordon and Landon. Milton and Tilden had always been close, a perfect brotherhood Sheldon had thought. Obviously their thoughts had travelled a different path. Brothers didn’t have wild sex; they didn’t have tame sex either.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to have sex with your housemate?! Do you rob banks without meaning to also?”

“No.” Milton rubbed his right thumb over his left knuckles. “I buried this side of myself for a long time.”

“You had your chance when it wouldn’t hurt anybody. You could have had him anytime you were in college or grad school. I almost expected it when we first got together. But now? And you didn’t tell me. Oh, by the way I hope you had a good time on the new roller coaster, and our relationship just got a lot more crowded. I assume you’re planning to continue this non platonic relationship with Tilden? What about Luke and Mike? Was it three for one at the meat market today?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking and planning.” Milton ran his hand over the rim of his coffee cup. “I failed as your dominant and as your husband and as your lover today. Can we build something from this?”

“Fuck it!” Sheldon raked his fingers through his hair. “I still love you. That’s the problem. I can’t imagine life without you.”

“I don’t want to even try.” 

Milton stood and pulled Sheldon into his lap. It was a practiced move, a move he’d done thousands of times before. Sheldon slumped against the broad chest. He knew the feel of those hands on his. He knew the small scar from a chain and an angry cow in childhood. He knew the wire of the beard against his cheek.

“I don’t want to lose this,” Sheldon mumbled.

“I don’t either.” Milton tightened his arms and dropped a chaste kiss on Sheldon’s cheek. “I know I should have asked, and we should have planned. This was completely unfair, but I can’t change that. It’s happened. I can’t slam it back into some forbidden box and wrap chains around it and pretend it never happened or pretend I don’t want Tilden. I do. This doesn’t mean I love you less. I adore you. Without you, I’m only half of me.”

“I’ve always trusted you.” Sheldon pressed against Milton’s chest and caught the much larger hand. “You’ve always made it good for me. I’m trying here.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They sat together, both silent, beyond words to explain feelings that Sheldon couldn’t express and even Milton seemed unable to verbalize. Milton had always been trustworthy, honest, perfect. Sheldon knew many dominants and no one caught his eye. Ryan was magazine cover beautiful, but Sheldon didn’t want him. He didn’t have Milton’s deep understanding combined with an excitement that Sheldon couldn’t explain to himself, let alone others. Milton still made Sheldon’s breath catch, his eyes drop, and a flare of excitement rise in his groin just by being Milton. He didn’t have to dress in leather or hold a whip in his hand. He didn’t even have to be acting dominant. They could be watching sports on TV or strolling down the street or at a college function where Milton behaved with spotless vanilla manners.

“What do we do with Mike and Luke?”

“I don’t have any right to tell any of you that you can’t touch each other physically after today.”

“Mike will want you to dominate him; you already half do. It will be easy for him. You scare Luke. He’ll stay. He loves Tilden, and he doesn’t want to be alone. He’s shy and quiet and hardly suited to finding the right sort of man.”

“I’m hardly the right sort of man,” Milton said.

“You are with Tilden beside you. Luke can brush against his fantasy dominant, all dark and scary, and know he’s protected from the sharp teeth. Luke calls himself vanilla, but he’s not. He’s like Tilden, afraid of his own nature, afraid of where letting go will take him. Of course Tilden letting go smashed right into us.” Sheldon swiped at his eyes. “I love Tilden, but this isn’t fair. I’m the one who has to give up so much of you. Austin won’t care. He’s young and adaptable. I once had all of you.”

“Sheldon.”

“Give me time. I’ll learn to deal with it. God, maybe I’ll even like it, but let me be mad and jealous at least for a while.”

***** 

One Month Later:

“Hey, can I join you?”

Sheldon was on the landing of the third floor steps, staring out over the town. He retreated up here often now. When Trent and Mace were at work, he could sit up here and find peace. He could watch the clouds and pretend it wasn’t all changed.

“Milton sent you?”

Ryan nodded. “But I would have come anyway. You’re my lover’s brother. I care about you.”

Sheldon hugged his knees and stared out at the green tree tops and the sky that was too blue. Blue skies were for happy days; The sky should be gray with sheets of rain.

“Walling yourself off is not a good plan. You are not the quiet, stoic type.”

“I’m trying.” Sheldon blinked back an unwanted tear. He wasn’t going to cry again; he had spent too much time crying.

“Try less and feel more.” Ryan sat down on the step, his body taking three-quarters of the space. “Tilden isn’t a stranger. He was already family.”

“He wasn’t in my bed.”

“It’s not your bed, boy,” Ryan said sharply. “You’re in the bed at the dominant’s will and pleasure. He could take on a harem, and your duty is to say ‘yes, sir’ and find more sheets. He could thrash you every night for resisting him. You might be more agreeable naked with fresh whip marks on your ass.”

“Milton would never—”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Ryan ran his hand up and down Sheldon’s back. “You’re far more to Milton than only a submissive. You’re his partner, his lover, his Sheldon. He wants this to be good for you. You see him with Tilden. Do you want to take that away from them? Do you want to take it away from Milton?”

Tilden and Milton were beautiful together; their strides meshed and words were hardly needed. Sheldon wasn’t blind; it was where they should have always been. They’d always loved each other; seeing them now just reinforced that. The tension and the artificial barriers were gone between them. Tilden smiled so beautifully and shyly as Milton kissed him on the lips, his body open, supple, wanton for pleasure. Tilden’s submission to Milton was breathtaking and elegant in its lean simplicity and completeness. Conversely he was a far better dominant now as if he finally understood and had thrown his vanilla inhibitions to the wind.

“No, he deserves to be happy,” Sheldon said, his eyes on the clouds.

“And so do you.”

“Fuck! That’s why this is so fucking hard.” Sheldon bolted to his feet and pressed his face against the glass. “I can’t hate Tilden for taking Milton away. I like Tilden. I love Tilden. He’s still the man who will listen to my ravings and rantings over endless cups of tea. It would be easy if this was some random stranger. I could throw all my hate and blame on him. I just feel jealous and evil and hate myself for my self-centeredness. I should be happy for them—denying it for two decades. I wanted them to keep denying it. What does that make me? A jealous bastard.”

Ryan’s arms were strong and safe, and Sheldon let himself cry against the broad chest. Ryan wasn’t Milton, but he was a damn good dominant, and at least for this moment Sheldon had him all to himself.

“Better?” Ryan asked as Sheldon’s tears slowed to a few sputters.

“Sticky and my eyes hurt—how is that better?”

“I’d say much considering your snark has returned.” Ryan landed a light, teasing swat on Sheldon’s ass before pulling them both down to sit on the stairs. He dropped his arm over Sheldon’s shoulders, heavy and reassuring. “You know it’s OK to feel jealous. You’re a human, not some automation, not some perfect submissive who bows and scrapes at every whim of his master.”

“I’m a lousy submissive. All I’ve done is snap and snarl and pout for the last month.”

“And Milton hasn’t pulled you up? He hasn’t tanned your ass and told you to get your act together?”

Sheldon shook his head. Milton had been patient and gentle and tried to do things he knew Sheldon liked. Sheldon wasn’t being neglected; Milton had even shown up unexpectedly at work and taken Sheldon to lunch where Sheldon had been as rude and vicious as he knew how.

“And you’d like him to?”

Sheldon licked his lips and looked into Ryan’s clear blue eyes. “Yeah. Is that stupid?”

“No.” Ryan brushed Sheldon’s hair back and kissed his forehead. “So much like your brother. Sheldon you’re a submissive, a very good submissive I might add, but sometimes, I swear, you and your brother enjoy torturing us poor dominants. It’s not good when you make us get out the Tarot cards and the crystal ball and consult the local astrologist to figure out what the hell you’re feeling. God, boy, Milton should whip your ass for not telling him you wanted it all tighter. He’s been giving you space, and you’ve been making yourself miserable. He didn’t want to run roughshod over your feelings, and you wanted the big, bad dom to tell you to get over it. Suck it up, boy, and get on with life because this is now the score.”

“Not like that,” Sheldon said softly.

“No, you’re not your brother.” Ryan pulled Sheldon closer, resting his chin against the red hair. “Your hair’s more strawberry than your brother’s, and if anything I think you are more stubborn, and I really didn’t think that was possible. Sheldon it was OK to feel angry and jealous and betrayed. Your man suddenly made a private relationship a collective. But you chose to stay in the relationship. It’s time now to carry your share or really more than your share. You’re head boy. That carries responsibilities and privileges. 

“No one asked me if I wanted to be a harem supervisor.”

“No, they didn’t, and all that was damn unfair, but you have to move forward. You’re still Milton’s special boy.”

“And what about Tilden? Milton tells things to Tilden.”

“He always did. Is that any different?”

“No.” Sheldon listened to the word echo off the small space.

“No, it’s not. The difference is now they’re not doing some kind of crazy dance, pretending they’re not madly attracted to each other. I can’t believe it took this long. That was one hell of a way to have a midlife crisis.”

“It’s not funny.”

“I know.” Ryan rubbed the back of Sheldon’s neck, tangling the short hair in his fingers. “But you have to admit if it wasn’t you stuck in the middle that it has its moments of outlandish drama. Can’t you imagine it on the big screen?”

“Ryan!”

“I know behave like a reasonable adult and stop drifting off into fantasy land.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes. “Ry, are you going to tell Milton about this conversation?”

“Um, don’t you think I should?”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“That he needs to be proactive. That you love Tilden, but don’t know how to act or where your place is in this relationship, that Milton has a responsibility to make it clear to you.”

“Not that I’m a jealous bastard?”

“You aren’t. You’re Milton’s boy who needs to be reminded firmly and often that you’re his boy.”

“What would you do?” Sheldon asked, twisting around so he could see Ryan’s face.

“I’d spank you over my knee everyday, bare and held tightly, because you need that connection, and I’d make you talk when you were still hanging there—all red, sore and vulnerable and ever so beautiful. It’s then when you’ll talk without all the bullshit defenses, but I’m not Milton. It’s his choice.”

“He respects you and listens to you.”

“Only between the ass chewings for screwing up.” Ryan smiled. “Milton gets you, far better than I ever would. Blade and I are suited; we like the same things, and you would flip at some of our pleasures.”

“I’m a maniac at times.”

“Oh, probably. You have a flare for the dramatic. It’s the red hair. I should know; I live with one.” Ryan stood and pulled Sheldon up with him. “Let’s stop hiding in the attic. I’ll have people accusing me of kidnapping you.”

“Doubtful. Milton did send you.”

“Not for the entire afternoon with Blade running loose. Blade and Mike together are almost as bad as Blade and Steve—combustible. Milton will kill me if he had to do fire suppression. Come on now. You guys will be OK. All you need is a hotter ass and life will be good.”

“Life isn’t that simple.”

“Sometimes.” Ryan shrugged. “But sometimes the solution is simple. Submit and obey. Nothing else. No second guesses. No what ifs. Come,” Ryan ordered, taking Sheldon’s hand. “Your place is at Milton’s side: submissive and obedient and very much loved.”