Clyde stepped into the foyer and closed his umbrella. Setting it in the corner to drip, he stamped his feet a few times and removed his raincoat. He was muttering to himself about the sudden rainstorm when the sound of crying caught his attention.
Following the muffled sounds he hurried into the living room, and seeing his youngest brat sprawled across the sofa crying, he quickened his pace even more then bent down and scooped the slender young man into his arms.
"Mouse," he said using his pet name for his young brat, Mitch, "What's happened? What's wrong?"
Mitch wrapped his arms around Clyde's neck and looked up at him, his wide, brown-eyes glittering with tears. "Jackson...said..." Mitch managed between gulps.
"What did he say?" Clyde coaxed gently, while sitting down on the coach with his feather-weight load.
"He said that my mother would never accept that I was gay," Mitch managed, between sniffles.
Clyde felt his anger building at the words, and even though he knew that Jackson had not had the easiest life and had become pessimistic and at times even cynical, he still couldn't understand why his partner would say something so hurtful to the youngest, and most innocent member of their family.
He cuddled Mitch for a minute and then said with a lightness that belied his disappointment in Jackson, "Well, Mousie, how can he know something like that? The last time I checked he wasn't a fortune-teller.
He smiled tightly and ran his fingers through the soft brown waves of Mitch's hair. "Only time will tell if your mother will accept you as you are, but whatever happens you will always have me and Jackson. We will always be your family, no matter what."
His words elicited a wan smile, and Clyde felt encouraged by it. "Crying like this is not good for your blood-sugar," he said gently, referring to Mitch's diabetes, "Perhaps I should warm your backside for letting yourself get so worked up about this."
Mitch's eyes opened wider at the words, but Clyde could tell that he was trying very hard to rein in his emotions.
Clyde grinned and ruffled Mitch's hair. "I guess I won't spank you this time, as long as you promise you will try to calm down and that you will call me on my cell the next time something like this happens. I can't have you endangering your health by getting all worked up.
"I promise, Clyde," Mitch responded quickly.
Clyde nodded, then flattened his lips into a thin line of determination."Where's Jackson, Mouse? I think I need to have a few words with him."
Obviously agitated by the question, Mitch began to move restlessly in Clyde's embrace. "You're not going to punish him are you?" he asked before being wracked with an after-sob that rocked both men with its intensity.
Clyde laughed, then said,. "Don't you worry about Jackson, I understand him and what he needs better than you may think... as much as anyone can, that is," he added with a soft flick to the tip of Mitch's nose. "So don't worry."
Mitch's restless movements slowed and then stopped, along with his sniffles, and After Clyde gently disentangled him, he settled him down on the sofa to rest.
Once more he asked the question that foremost on his mind,"Where's Jackson?"
"He left, Clyde. I don't know where he went."
Clyde furrowed his brow in concern, for it wasn't like Jackson to leave without telling either Mitch or himself where he was going and when he would be home. Ever since Jackson had lost his brother in a car accident a few years back, he would worry if anyone wasn't home exactly on time. He also never wanted anyone to worry about him like his family had worried when Jackson's oldest brother Stephen hadn't come home the day he had been killed, so he always at least left a note when he was going out.
"Can you tell me what else went on between the two of you besides him saying that about your mom?" Clyde asked "Was it a big argument of some kind?" Mitch gently prodded, not wanting Mitch to become distraught again, but becoming genuinely worried.
"No, nothing that I can remember."
Clyde knelt down and after depositing a kiss to Mitch's forehead, he said, "You go get a glass of orange juice, while I call a few people to see where he is."
Mitch nodded. "OK, Clyde. I'm all right though. And Please, don't be angry with him, please?"
Pulling his cell phone from his jacket pocket, Clyde nodded distractedly. "Orange juice, right now, and then check your sugar levels."
He smiled slightly at the eye roll that Mitch gave him then watched him head off for the kitchen. He then took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number of Jackson's parents.
He got their machine and left a message for Jackson to call home if he stopped by.
Just as he clicked off the phone it rang.
Seeing from the caller ID who it was, he breathed a sigh of relief before picking up. Without waiting for Jackson to speak, he said in a tone full of calculated menace, "If you don't get yourself home immediately, I am going to turn you inside out."
There was short, sharp laugh and then silence, a silence which brought Clyde's protective instincts to the surface.
"Jackson, are you all right?"
"Yeah, thanks for asking, though," came the reply. "Your imagery is delightfully violent, C. I'm guessing you've already talked to M and have tken his side on this?"
"He was crying when I got home from work," Clyde said in a calm tone of voice. "He told me what you said to him, so yes, I am a little inclined to be on his side in this case. Your bailing out, tells me that you knew you were in the wrong and didn't want to face my almighty wrath," Clyde added with a touch of humor to lighten the situation a bit.
"Would you care to hear my side of things?"
Clyde noticed the distant and somewhat formal tone of Jackson's voice, and he recognized it for what it was. Jackson was feeling hurt and was shutting himself off from further hurt. It was only one of his myriad defense mechanisms, but one that Clyde had come to recognize as the one he used most often when he felt misunderstood.
"Of course I want to hear your side, but you need to come home for me to do that."
"I may not be the best person in the world, C, but I do care about M. You need to give me the benefit of the doubt sometimes."
There was a wistful quality to Jackson's voice that Clyde found touching, and he responded to his very complicated lover with the utmost tenderness, "All right, baby, I will. Now, please come home."
"If I do, you're not really going to turn me inside out, are you?"
Noting that the usual cynical tone had returned, Clyde chuckled with relief. "Well, I've never done it yet, so I doubt I will start now. Besides the cleaning bill would be outrageous for that sort of carnage."
Jackson gave a small snort of laughter then hung up without so much as a goodbye.
Clyde, clicked off the phone, shook his head, and after looking at his watch and noting the time, went to find the little mouse to make sure he had obeyed his instructions.
He found him in the kitchen preparing a stir-fry, and walking up beside him, he lightly slapped his rear.
Mitch jumped, and then turned his head to give Clyde a sweet smile. "I heard you talking to Jackson, so I decided to make his favorite dinner."
Clyde was surprised at the announcement. "After he upset you so much, you want to make him dinner?" he asked.
"He was trying the best he could to help me, Clyde. Sometimes I just can't see things clearly and he was trying to make me see the way things really are..." His voice trailed off, and Clyde was about to respond when the younger man continued his train of thought. "... Sometimes I wish we lived in a fairy-tale...but we don't and I need to know that...sometimes."
Clyde nodded his head but didn't say anything for a few minutes, he simply watched Mitch deftly slice carrots and onion. "All right, little mouse," he finally said with a sigh as he went to retrieve plates, silverware and glasses from the cabinets.
"Did you check your blood sugar like I told you?" He remembered to ask while Mitch was adding garlic, tofu and soy sauce to the wok.
Mitch rolled his eyes and then said a bit petulantly. "Of course I did, How could I forget again after what you did to me last time I forgot?"
Clyde chuckled at the attitude he was getting from the usually sweet-natured young man. "So, it sounds like a little bottom-warming now and then is helpful for your memory," he said recalling the five or six moderate swats he had administered, only the week before.
It was difficult to spank Mitch, for two reasons: firstly because he had diabetes, and secondly, he cried every time he got even the lightest spanking. It was an ordeal for Clyde every time he felt obliged to spank the little mouse, even though he had been reassured by a physician acquaintance that a few controlled swats on the rump would not cause any health problems. Mitch's admittance, albeit reluctantly made, that it had helped him remember, made Clyde feel that perhaps his decision to spank had been the right one.
"I don't know about that," Mitch said grumpily, but he gave Clyde a wide smile that told him that he had not held a grudge.
Clyde heard the front door open and then close again just as he was setting the bread on the table. He called out to Jackson and when he saw him saunter in, he went over to him and pulled him close for a hug. "Don't ever worry us like that again." he whispered in his ear, before giving him a little shake and then releasing him.
He noticed Mitch standing near the table twisting his hands together and looking anxious so he gave him a wink and a smile to let him know that everything was all right.
Jackson, went directly over to Mitch and stuck out his hand to shake. "I'm sorry, Mitch, I shouldn't have said that about your mom, and I shouldn't have left afterward. I apologize," he said and then dropped his head a little.
Mitch, ever quick to respond to sincerity, threw his ams around Jackson and squeezed tightly. "Oh, that's all right," he said, sounding jubilant. "I know you were just trying to help."
"You do?" Jackson asked, sounding confused.
Mitch bobbed his head up and down, his smile never wavering for a moment. "You just didn't want me to get hurt anymore, so you were trying to make me more like you, so I couldn't get hurt. Right?"
Clyde noticed the flash of pain that crossed over Jackson's sensitive features at the words, so he made a show of clearing his throat. When both young men were looking over at him, he loudly announced that the food was getting cold and that he could get quite irate if he had to eat a cold meal.
Jackson laughed a short little laugh, and then squeezed Mitch's shoulder. "You're a good guy," he said with an odd note of sadness in his voice.
"So are you," Mitch replied cheerfully as he went to the table and sat down next to Clyde.
Soon Jackson took his seat across from Clyde, and though he was silent throughout most of the meal, Mitch more than made up for the quiet as he talked about the upcoming year of college, and his desire to eventually become a Neurologist.
Clyde smiled as he listened to Mitch's enthusiastic chatter, knowing that his little mouse, with his obscenely high IQ, could do whatever he put his mind to. He felt proud of Mitch, but at the same time he was a little worried that the younger man's naivety and lack of common sense would bring him heartache down the road.
"We're going to miss you, when you go, M," Jackson said, breaking his twenty minute silence.
"I know, but I'll be back," Mitch replied as he reached across the table to clasp Jackson's hand in his. "You know me, I'm loyal to the people I really care about."
"Maybe too loyal, you may get hurt someday," Jackson said fatalistically, voicing Clyde's own fears.
"That's enough," Clyde said mildly.
"Got it, C," Jackson said sullenly, before lowering his head and stabbing a few pieces of carrot with his fork.
Silence once again descended, and Clyde was left to ruminate about how he would deal with his lover once dinner was through.
As soon as they had finished their meal and had washed the dishes, Clyde lightly grasped Jackson by the upper arm and said in a low tone so that Mitch would not hear, "We have some unfinished business, Amigo. Meet me in the guest bathroom so we can talk in privacy."
Jackson stiffened in his grasp and nodded tersely. "All right."
The guest bathroom was quite spacious, and when Clyde walked in, he saw that Jackson was pacing from the sink to the bathtub and back again.
He brushed past him and sat on the edge of the tub. "OK, let's talk about what happened today," he said when Jackson stopped and looked questioningly at him.
Jackson frowned and sat cross-legged on the floor. Leaning his back against the wall, he stared up quietly at Clyde, not making the first move to speak.
Clyde clasped his hands together and leaned forward, trying to close both the physical and emotional distance that seemed to lay between them. "I just don't understand why you would tell Mitch that his mother was never going to accept that he's gay. I also don't understand why you left the house without telling him where you were going. That's uncharacteristic of you, and I want you to try to explain why you did it."
When Jackson responded, there was an icy edge to his voice. "Apparently, C, you just don't get me at all. Mitch understood better than you and he's twenty years old, for god's sake. It's so obvious that his mom is a narrow-minded, hard woman, and that she's not ever going to accept that he's gay. What's the point of letting him believe something that isn't true? What's the point in letting him be deluded? It's only going to make things harder in the end!"
As the decibels of Jackson's voice grew louder, Clyde put up his hands to quiet him, lest Mitch hear what should be a private discussion. When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. "OK, Listen to me. I understand that you believe that what you did was right, but it's not your choice to go around disillusioning people of their beliefs and dreams, however foolish you might think that they are."
Clyde sighed when he saw the guarded expression on Jackson's face, and he deliberately talked in a more gentle tone. "I know you were not so different from him, once upon a time. Does it bother you that much that he still has the innocence you once had?"
"That isn't fair," Jackson said gruffly, his lips pressed together in a straight, uncompromising line.
Clyde ached to gather Jackson to him and offer him some kind of solace, but the man that he loved so passionately seemed to be closed off from him in that moment of conflict.
"All right, then why did you leave after you told him what you believed to be the truth? Were you afraid to stick around and see the pain that your truth caused him, or were you afraid I was going to be angry and punish you when I found out what you said? Didn't you realize that I would be worried about you?"
Clyde watched as Jackson traced a line with his finger across the tile floor, and the other man's seeming lack of concern infuriated him.
"Well?" he demanded loudly.
Jackson looked up at him, the slight trembling of his head, the only sign of emotion. "Yes," he said in a monotone. "I didn't want to see Mitch crying, and I knew what your reaction would be and I didn't want to deal with it."
Clyde changed tactics, trying to appeal to the sense of goodness that he knew lay within, goodness that was carefully hidden but that escaped in beautiful and rare flashes. "Jackson, you hurt Mitch, and I know you said you were sorry, but I want you to promise me you won't ever do it again, no matter how sincere your motives."
Jackson's lips twisted sardonically. "Who said my motives were sincere?" he asked.
Clyde unclasped his hands and then ran them through his hair in frustration. "You forgot to answer one of my questions. Didn't you realize that we would be worried about you? You must have, since you always leave a note. What was that all about?"
Jackson's cheeks pinkened slightly. "I shouldn't have done that. I know."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I'm a bastard, all right?"
Clyde, realizing that he was just about at the end of his patience, decided to wrap up the unsuccessful talk and administer a punishment. Since he didn't spank Jackson like he sometimes did Mitch, he had to spend a moment or two considering options.
Finally he said, "We're not getting anywhere. You made some big mistakes today and although I'm proud of you for apologizing to Mitch, I have to make sure that you consider the power your negativity holds, especially concerning Mitch. So, I've decided that you should write an essay on the power of hopes and dreams and why you should never take them away from anyone."
Jackson shook his head in a rare mutinous gesture. "So, if he said he wanted to climb Mt. Everest, or something like that, I should just encourage that, even though I know he might be killed doing it? I don't want to write the essay, C, it goes against my beliefs."
Clyde looked over at Jackson in exasperation, not sure what to make out of his partner's refusal to accept the chosen punishment. "OK, then, if it really goes against your beliefs you can write an essay on how many people have made it to the summit of Mt. Everest and back. You can use the computer to find the info you need, but I want you to write the essay by hand. All right?"
Jackson seemed momentarily confused by the punishment, but he quickly masked all emotion. "All right, I'll do that, but can I also write about how many have died on Everest while trying to reach the peak or on the way down?"
Clyde smiled wryly. "That would be counter-productive in this case, so my answer would have to be no. I do expect the paper to be finished by tomorrow evening or I will add another assignment. If you want to go out this weekend, you'd better hop to it. No less than a thousand words, OK?"
Jackson stood up and dusted off his jeans. "Can I ask you something, C?" he said in such a low voice that Clyde barely made out what he said.
"Sure, baby."
"It crossed my mind that you might...um, prefer Mitch to me because he lets you spank him for punishment, and I don't. I was wondering lately if I might become expendable now that he's here."
Even though the words were spoken without much emotion, Clyde was not fooled. He knew how difficult it was for Jackson to show any type of vulnerability and he had just expressed tremendous insecurity with the question he posed.
"You are not expendable. You are the love of my life," Clyde said, standing from his seat on the edge of the tub and taking the few steps it took to reach Jackson.
Standing behind him, he wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man's waist. "You are the one that wanted Mitch to come live with us. Don't you remember that? He was your friend... and more. If anyone should feel insecure it's probably me," he added with a laugh.
When he felt Jackson tremble in his arms, Clyde paused for a few seconds to try to pull his thoughts together. "I love Mitch, but you are my world, Jackson. You're my lover, and I don't think I would care if we didn't have discipline in our relationship at all, because that's how much you mean to me.
Jackson sighed and relaxed in Clyde's arms. "You know, you are the first man I have trusted enough to allow those kind of decisions. I just..."
Clyde smiled into the back of Jackson's hair. "I'm know, baby, and I admire your honesty in acknowledging that your desire for discipline can not include spanking. I'm totally fine with that, and understand your valid reasons for refusing physical punishment. But, now that there are three of us in this family, you've got to realize that there's plenty of love to go around. That's what families do, you know, they love each other, and the three of us are a family...of sorts."
"Charles Manson was part of a family too," Jackson quipped, and it was apparant to Clyde that he just couldn't deal with the emotional topic anymore.
"Oh, shut up, you bad boy," Clyde said silkily as he turned Jackson to face him. "I love you," he murmured as he tilted Jackson's face up to a good kissing angle.
"Mmmm, love you too" Jackson responded then flicked his tongue across Clyde's lips.
In the midst of a deep kiss, Clyde brought his hand back and then slapped it down solidly onto the seat of Jackson's jeans, eliciting a soft moan from his lover.
Three more times he raised his palm and brought it crashing down onto Jackson's rear end, and with each spank, Clyde could feel Jackson's desire growing. "You bad, bad boy," he whispered into Jackson's ear.
For the next few moments, Clyde lost himself in the feel and the scent of his lover. The happy and lust-filled smile that Jackson gave him as they parted for air, told him that he was now convinced of his importance in their relationship.
When a few more moments had passed, he nipped Jackson lightly on the tip of his nose and then sent him to the computer room to begin his research.
Then, wondering if Mitch had gone to bed yet, he went to check on him.
Clyde stood near the bed with Mitch's note in his hand, afraid to read it. The bedroom had an empty feel to it, and as he glanced around, taking in the open, empty drawers of the dresser, he knew that for whatever reason, their little mouse had fled.
Forcing himself to read the small tidy scrawl, he realized that Mitch had overheard he and Jackson in the bathroom and had come to the wrong conclusions.
A painful lump formed in his throat as he read the first few sentences over and over.
Jackson and Clyde,
I heard what went on in the bathroom and I love Jackson too much to stay. Since he is really worried about you liking me better, and since he also got a spanking because he was trying to help me and I tattled on him, then I need to go because I'm obviously causing problems.
Clyde rushed to the computer room with note in hand, and after showing the note to Jackson, they both hurried to the car to go find him.
They had been driving around the neighborhood for almost an hour, having stopped at the arcade, the pizza parlor, and the nearby park where Mitch liked to sit and stargaze, when Clyde voiced his concern that they might not be able to find Mitch that night. "If he really doesn't want to be found we won't find him, especially in the dark" he said as they idled at a red light. "Maybe he went to his parent's house. Call the number on the cell, OK?"
Jackson dialed the number then inquired in a terse voice as to whether Mitch was there.
Clyde glanced over, knowing from his tone that Jackson must be speaking to Mitch's mother.
"Stay cool," he said barely above a whisper.
Jackson waved a hand in Clyde's direction, in essence brushing him off.
"Yeah, well, bitch," Jackson said before Clyde could make a lunge for the phone, "he's out on the street somewhere and if anything happens to him it will be your fault for being such a cold-hearted, ignorant-"
Clyde wrestled the phone away, clicked it off and then sat and stared in horror at Jackson in the dim light of the stop light. "What did that accomplish, except to make things harder for Mitch?"
"The light's turned green, C," Jackson said in a monotone, clearly avoiding Clyde's gaze.
Shaking his head, Clyde glanced at green circle of light above them, and then drove on.
For hours they drove the streets, barely speaking, except when one or the other thought of another place to look, and as the hours droned on, and the faint light of dawn turned the town from sinister black to cold gray, they finally had to admit defeat and head for home.
Jackson grabbed up the phone book when they got inside the house, and as he sat down in the mahogany rocking chair near the window with it, Clyde could see the weariness in his partner's face.
"You need sleep, baby, and so do I. We can make some calls later. The only calls we need to make now are to work so they'll know we won't be in today."
"I'm calling the hospitals first," Jackson replied as he thumbed through the phone book. "He could have been attacked or hit by a car, or god knows what."
Clyde sighed, knowing exactly what thoughts had to be running through Jackson's mind, and knowing that the situation had to be opening up some not so old wounds."
"I'll make you a cup of coffee, and, please don't jump to any conclusions, baby, chances are that he's all right," Clyde said, trying to reassure himself as well as Jackson.
While the coffee brewed, Clyde sat at the kitchen table and cradled his chin in his hands. The image of Mitch's sweet face the night before as he had looked up from cooking, making him wince.
A minute later, Jackson walked in with the phone still in hand. "if anything happens to him, I'll kill myself," he said as he flopped down in a chair.
"Don't say that," Clyde said gruffly as he stood up to get the coffee cups.
"I mean it. I'm not going to go through another-"
Clyde's temper flared at the words, and he spun around to face Jackson. "Will you stop being so negative? Mitch just left, that's all. Nothing is going to happen to him. Now, just cut that shit out! Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Jackson said in low voice.
Clyde realized his weariness was making him tense, and almost immediately he regretted his sharp words. "This is not the end of the world, he'll be OK," he said as he handed Jackson a steaming cup of black coffee. "You'll see, baby."
"You're right, C, I'm overreacting. Thanks."
"No problemo," Clyde said before taking a sip of his coffee. He spent the next few minutes wracking his brain to think of where he would go if he were Mitch. A flash of memory came to him and he remembered Mitch telling him once that he went to the aquarium a lot when he was younger to try to work things out. He had said that the movement of the fish gliding through the water would always clear his head.
"Try the aquarium, Jackson," he said, knowing that he was grasping at straws. "Ask if there is a brown-haired man in his early twenties watching the fish.
Jackson didn't ask any questions, he quickly dialed information and then the aquarium.
Clyde watched Jackson over the rim of his coffee cup, as he talked to someone on the other end.
When he saw Jackson smile and nod over at him, he allowed the fear that he'd try to quash for the last few hours to wash over him and recede. The aquarium wasn't exactly a hot spot and very few people visited during the week. He was sure that the brown-haired young man had to be the little mouse. Now all they had to do was to go and explain the misunderstanding and surely Mitch would come home.
He groggily looked at the digital clock on his bedside table and was surprised that it was nearly eight o' clock at night.
He gave Jackson's hand as soft squeeze and then murmured to both him and the little mouse to wake up.
"Am I going to get a spanking?" Mitch asked quietly, obviously still in the land between wake and sleep.
Jackson chuckled and then yawned hugely. "He wants to know if he's going to get a spanking, C, what do you think?"
Mitch, seeming to realize what he had asked, sat up quickly and while rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he asked, "What did I say?"
Jackson grinned. "You asked if you were going to get a spanking. Maybe subconsciously you think you deserve one?"
Clyde sat up and smiled, feeling content that their runaway was safely home and that Jackson was smiling and teasing. He silently watched the pair as he considered things.
Big brown eyes looked pleadingly at him. "I don't want a spanking Clyde. It was just a misunderstanding, and next time I'll talk to you guys before I do anything like that."
Jackson twined his arm around Mitch's middle and pulled him on top of him before Clyde had a chance to respond.
"Give me a kiss," he demanded, while Clyde sat and watched, feeling only a hint of jealousy at the thought of anyone else kissing his Jackson.
He watched as Mitch planted a kiss on Jackson's lips and then he got up to go to the bathroom.
When he returned the two were laying side by side, and Jackson beckoned him over with a sultry movement. He then planted a big smooch on Clyde's mouth.
"Thank you," Clyde said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I was beginning to feel left out.
After breakfasting in bed on French toast and tea, which Jackson had reluctantly left the bed to prepare, Clyde felt cozy and content. It took all his will power to broach the subject of punishment with Mitch, but he also knew there was no putting it off.
The remembrance of the tearful outburst from the little mouse at the aquarium, was still fresh in his mind, as was the realization of how insecure Mitch had seemed about his place with them. Still, Mitch had confided in him months before that he needed punishment sometimes, and Clyde was not going to let him down.
He looked at Mitch and then at Jackson. "We need to bring some closure to this situation, little mouse. Do you want Jackson to go or do you want him to stay while we handle this?"
Mitch's face fell and his cheeks colored. "I'm going to get a spanking, then?"
"Yes," Clyde said gently. "I think you deserve one for leaving like you did and worrying us, no matter what you thought had gone on. Do you think that's fair?"
Clyde could see that Jackson was tense, because he was biting at his lower lip.
"Would you like to go watch television or something, baby?" he asked gently.
"I don't like the idea of you spanking him if he really doesn't want it," Jackson said quietly.
Clyde opened his mouth to respond, but Mitch beat him to it. The little mouse clasped Jackson's hand and kissed his cheek. "I'm not supposed to want it, that's why it's a punishment, but I think I need it," he said as he gazed into Jackson's eyes. "The reason I was so upset when I heard the spanking in the bathroom was because I knew you didn't need it the same way I need it. I guess I should have known that Clyde would never do something that you didn't need."
Clyde smiled. "Well, now that you know what happened and you understand everything, do you see how important it is not to jump to conclusions?"
Mitch bobbed his head. "Yes, I do."
Jackson made a move to get up, but Mitch clasped his hand tightly. "Don't go, Jackson, please. I want you to see that it's all right. Even if I cry a little, it's all right."
Jackaon looked uncertainly at Clyde.
"It's up to you," Clyde said with a shrug.
"All right, M, I'll stay if you want me too."
Mitch smiled at Jackson before letting go of his hand. He then got off the bed and pulled his navy briefs down, before launching himself over Clyde's waiting lap.
Clyde looked at Jackson, trying to offer him some reassurance with his eyes, then brought his hand up and back down on the tight little bottom that lay across his lap. A light pink hand print remained after the first spank, and he continued on, delivering nine more measured spanks.
Mitch was in tears, when Clyde helped him to his feet, and Jackson, obviously upset about it, asked, "Are you OK, M? Did it hurt too much?"
"No, not too much," he replied before wiping his eyes with a tissue that Clyde handed him.
"I think he'll live," Clyde said trying to lighten the situation a little. "Mouse, do you think you will remember now that you must talk to Jackson and I when you aren't sure of what is going on?"
Mitch sniffled then blew his nose on the tissue. "Yes, sir."
"Good boy, then there's nothing else to be said and the slate is clean."
Mitch gave Clyde a watery smile that practically melted his heart. "Jackson, there's some aloe lotion in the top drawer of the dresser if you would like to soothe Mitch's sore bottom." He gave Mitch a knowing wink. "Would you like that little mouse?"
"Yes, please!" Mitch practically begged.
Jackson smiled and went to retrieve the lotion. "Sounds good to me," he said, relief clear in his voice.
Clyde waited for a pause, and then asked, "So, if that many people have climbed Mt. Everest, do you still think you should dissuade people from following their dreams? I mean, no matter how unlikely or dangerous they may seem?"
"I just don't want M to get hurt," Jackson stated doggedly. "What's wrong with that?"
Clyde sighed. "I know but people who take big chances sometimes reap big rewards. You don't want to take that away from Mitch do you? He needs to believe that there is a chance that his mother will come to her senses, Jackson. He needs it desperately. Can't you understand that?"
Jackson glowered at Clyde. "Yeah, I get it, but you can't expect me to change overnight. I lost my brother unnecessarily you know, and maybe it's caused me to become a little bitter.
"All I ask is that you try to preserve Mitch's hope as you travel your difficult path."
Jackson got up and bent down to give Clyde an unexpected kiss on the cheek. The gesture was so impulsive and sweet that it nearly took Clyde's breath away.
"Thank you, C, I understand what you want from me and I really am going to try."
Clyde thought he saw the sparkle of tears in Jackson's eyes, but he made no mention of the fact. "That's what families are for."
"Manson was in a-"
"Shut up, you, that wasn't funny the first time you said it."
Jackson grinned. "It's my job to be cynical, don't you know that?"
Mitch walked into the kitchen at that moment. "How much does it pay? A lot I hope," he quipped before settling himself into Clyde's lap.
Clyde looked at Jackson and they shared a smile, before Clyde tousled Mitch's hair and gave him a cuddle. "I think you have a phone call to make and an apology to offer, Jackson," he said, giving his lover a serious look.
Jackson got up from his chair and dropped a kiss on the top of Mitch's head in passing. "All right, C, you got it, but it sucks to be in this family, sometimes."
Clyde smiled with contentment. "Yep, You're right," he agreed without feeling any conviction at all. copyright © 2007 Tris