Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Bollards

Title: Bollards
Authors: Rolf and Ranger

"Do we need anything else aside from Amaretto for the cheesecake?" Allen asked as he headed down the aisle, looking for an empty spot to park in.  He pulled into one about ten spots from the front and put the car in park. 


"AND the cream cheese," Jamie said, opening his car door right into the path of an older lady who was pushing her buggy back to her car. 

Allen, who saw the flash of the buggy, cringed and grabbed, about as quickly as his partner saw and hurriedly yanked the door back, climbing out of the car to apologise. 

"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely to the lady, who had also screeched to a halt. "I should have looked." 

The lady, mollified since Jamie was always sincere, nodded and carried on. Allen, releasing his breath, got out of the car.

"Stupid." Jamie said, giving him a slightly apprehensive look.

"NOT stupid.  You just need to take that extra moment to look before you fling open the door.  Easily avoided and no harm done," Allen said easily as they headed towards the grocery store.

Jamie sighed and tried to put it out of his mind.  It wasn't until Allen started quizzing him on what they needed that he was able to accomplish that, and they spent the next thirty minutes filling up their own buggy.

Shopping was something they enjoyed, and they spent an amicable few minutes in the queue, bickering gently over cheeses and packing the shopping into bags. They were loading the bags into the car when Allen saw Jamie looking again at the door and dug him gently in the ribs. 

"There's not a mark. Desist."

"I'm always doing it." Jamie said, slinging the last bag into the boot and shutting it. "I nearly whacked a bollard last week."

"I'll whack you with a bollard if you don't quit worrying over it," Allen said as he got into the driver's seat. 

"Maybe we ought to do something about it." Jamie said somewhat anxiously, looking at him.

Allen gave him a level and grave look, controlling the twinkling in his eyes for only a second or two.  "I agree.  So if you see any loose bollards around, bring them home to me and we'll take care of things immediately."

That, despite himself, made Jamie break into a laugh, although he sounded reproachful. "Allen - I was serious. I'm going to wreck the door sooner or later."

"As long as you take care to look, and promise me faithfully that you'll not use the car door to loosen the next bollard you see, I'm willing to forgive and forget.  If the lady with the buggy didn't hit you with her purse for almost breaking her eggs, then I don't think I need to worry."

"I don't MEAN to do it." Jamie said, looking down at his hands. "I never do. It's so stupid."

"Promise me the bollards are safe from you?  Goodness knows they should be on the endangered species list with the way people drive around here," Allen continued as he drove out of the car park towards home.

"What if I do smash a door?" Jamie asked, not biting, although Allen was aware he was sounding less anxious. Allen shrugged, refusing to be het up.

"The door can be repaired.  All cars get dents and dings and if we didn't agree that they added to the character, we'd go crazy.  I'm in the mood for ice cream, are you?"

The casual tone wasn't lost. Jamie nodded, settling further back into his seat, and finally let it go.

"Good," Allen replied, pulling into the local dairy hut.  By the end of the ice cream the almost dent was completely forgotten. 







            Jamie would have said it was inevitable. Allen would have argued: but Jamie, who had little patience with his own impulses and shortcomings, had at the back of his mind that it was only a matter of time.

It was in fact nearly four months later when it finally happened. He was alone in his own car, pulled into the car park outside the bank with a handful of letters to post, and without looking, flung the door wide. And heard the crunch as it went into a low wall alongside the parking space.

Jamie's stomach tightened as he pulled the door back to before easing himself out to look at the damage.

The dent was unmistakable. The door was crunched and the paint flaking off. Jamie ran a horrified hand over it, then closed the door and leaned against it, running his hands through his hair. If they gave out medals for sheer brainlessness....

It was done.  He looked back down at the dent that now mocked him, proving again that he was incapable of doing even the most basic thing like mailing envelopes.  Jamie got back into the car and drove home with the mail on the seat beside him, berating himself the whole way.

Allen, who did surgery on Wednesday afternoons, wasn't likely to be home for another couple of hours. Jamie got out on the drive and looked again at the mess of the door before he pulled himself together and went inside. It took several minutes of searching through the yellow pages to find a garage, and the receptionist promised someone would be out within the hour to collect the car and begin repairs

He took the few personal items out of the car before the garage came, and finding the mail on the front seat, he took that inside and promised himself he'd walk to the nearest drop box to get that taken care of, since that was one of the errands he'd been trying to do when the door got smashed.  He was still wandering the house when a knock on the door signalled the arrival of the garage.  He gratefully handed over the key and shut the garage as soon as the car was gone.

And then went back into the house, chewing his nails. It was so stupid. Allen wouldn't be upset - far from it. He'd merely say that worse things happened to cars in their lifetime, that everyone had accidents and it was not a reason to worry- but that wasn't the point. The whole point was that he SHOULD have thought. A grown man ought to be capable of NOT slamming his door into obstacles, or at least learning from experience.

Well, there was nothing to be done about the dent now, it was being taken care of.  But the dishes still remained from breakfast and dinner needed to be prepped so that when Allen got home he'd at least get a good meal. That might in some way make up for a partner incapable of thinking through opening a door.

Not in the least happy with himself, Jamie stacked the dishwasher and opened the fridge, digging through it for steak and vegetables. Allen liked his steak. Once the kitchen was situated, he headed upstairs to make sure the bedroom was in order and the bathroom cleaned.  It wasn't, so he took the next hour and scrubbed the bathroom until it was gleaming.  At that point it was time to finish up dinner preparations. Taking some comfort in the arrangements, which always calmed him when he was feeling rattled, he set the table, finished the roasted vegetables, tossed them in oil and set about making potato rosti, which gave him several more counters to scrub. He was finishing off the last of them and turning the steaks in marinade when Allen shut the front door and called to him.

"I'm in here," Jamie called back, keeping his head down over the steaks. Allen came in and Jamie heard his shoulders cracking as he stretched, then Allen's arms came around him and hugged.

"Hey gorgeous. Wow, look at this! What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," Jamie said, melting back against Allen even when he didn't feel like he deserved the hug. 

"I could do with a lot of these 'no occasions' Allen replied, nibbling on the ear and neck that he could reach and enjoying the weak attempts to get away and the giggling that Jamie was doing.  It felt good to be home.

Giving the steak a last flip in the marinade, Jamie turned around inside his arms and touched Allen's cheek at the sight of his heavy eyes.

"Was it a long session? You look exhausted."

"A microsurgery procedure. Wiring, all very delicate work." Allen snatched another kiss and let him go. Jamie opened the fridge and handed him a bottle of wine and a glass.

"Take that and go and have a bath, this can wait until you're feeling better."

"I HAVE died and gone to heaven, I knew I worked too hard today," Allen said, gladly accepting the bottle and glass. 

"Go on, take your time." Jamie told him, putting the steak back in the fridge. Allen headed gladly for the stairs, pausing in the doorway.

"By the way - where's your car?"

"In for repair." Jamie said, shutting the fridge. "There was a problem with the door."

"That blasted lock again?" Allen said with sympathy. "Oh well. That shouldn't be expensive."

Damn Jamie thought as Allen went upstairs. It was stupid. Why not just tell him?

As he watched Allen disappear at the top of the stairs, he decided that Allen needed a bath and a few minutes peace far more than knowing he had a thoughtless partner.  He made sure the potatoes would remain warm, then decided he'd skipped making anything for dessert and that was the next item up for business.

Digging in the cupboard he found the means for making a quick flan and began to put that together. Allen needed the time and took it: the kitchen was immaculate and the light starting to fade outside when he came downstairs to find the kitchen door open and Jamie outside watering the tubs and pots that sat on the porch.

"That was exactly what I needed after work," Allen said, still hanging onto his glass of wine.

"You look in need of eating too." Jamie gave him a look and brushed off his hands, turning the tap off. "Sit down, I'll plate up dinner."

Allen was going to reply that he could help but Jamie was already inside and the chair on the patio looked inviting. He settled down, surveying their well-kept back garden.

Jamie filled two plates, giving Allen the lion's share since he was feeling increasingly unlike eating. Turning the oven off he took both plates outside, handed Allen's over and too his to perch on the top step of the porch.

"You're not going to join me here?" Allen questioned.

"I'm ok." Jamie said without looking up, chopping up rosti. "How was your patient by the end of the surgery?"

"Looking much better," Allen said expressively. He dug into his dinner with gusto. "He'll be quite pleased when he wakes up. This is delicious darling."

Jamie gave him a faint smile and put his plate down, not able to stomach any more. "I felt like cooking this evening."

You liar, he added silently, looking out at the lawn. Liar as well as a prat, you're just what he needs at the end of a day.

"I'll have surgery more often if I get to come home to this!"

Jamie managed something like a smile and got up, wishing that Allen was less effusive with praise. Right now the last thing he wanted to hear was anything nice. Taking his plate into the kitchen he racked his brains for anything else to ask, any way to distract Allen from what was on his plate.

Allen continued eating, relaxing in the cooling air. After being in the operating room, the outdoors seemed fresher than normal.

"Jamie? Can I get a refill of wine?"

Jamie took the bottle out to him, still trying to think of something to say.

"Did you see Ian?" he asked in the end, somewhat lamely, knowing very well it was Ian's day off.

"No, it's his day off, remember? Thanks for the refill," Allen said, taking a sip. "Didn't you go in for seconds?" he asked when Jamie didn't seem to be heading inside to get his plate.

"No, I think I filled up just cooking." Jamie took the bottle back indoors and leaned against the sink, running water to wash up.

Allen finished his plate and carried that inside, finding Jamie hard at work on the few remaining dishes. Things were starting to feel not exactly right for some reason.

"I can finish the clean up," he said easily, trying to steer Jamie away from the sink. " You did the cooking."

"No, it's ok, you're tired." Jamie flashed him a brief smile and went on running water. "Go sit down, it won't take long."

"I'm not that tired," Allen tried, putting his plate down on the counter after having scraped the remains into the trash.

"Quicker if I do it." Jamie squeezed soap into the water and rapidly began to wash up, stacking the plates on the side. "Allen leave it. Go do something."

Anything.

Heading outside to collect his wine glass, Allen stood and finished it, his back against the porch railing. The sun was completely down now and the night creatures were starting to make their respective noises. A loud clink of the dishes brought him out of his reverie and he headed inside to hand his wine glass over for washing. He stepped behind Jamie, wrapping his arms around his partner's chest, kissing what he could of the side of his face. "Have I told you how wonderful you are lately?"

That was about more than nerve could bear. Shrugging Allen off, Jamie reached for another dish and tried not to snap.

"Does this look like a good time to get mushy? Let me get on with this and go find something to do."

Well that was short and to the point. Allen took the hint and headed into the living room. Taking out his book, he tried to read a few pages but his mind kept straying to his partner in the other room. Finally he gave up, putting the book down and waiting for Jamie to finish the few dishes that were left.

Jamie shut the last few plates in the cupboard, grabbed a glass of water and took it outside, in no hurry to go and join Allen. Grumpy as well as incompetent wasn't likely to be a good combination.

As soon as Allen heard the door open, he got up and headed outside. He found Jamie sitting on the top step and settled down next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, taking Jamie's hand.

"Nothing." Jamie said instinctively. "Why? I'm fine."

"You've been quiet and busy since I've gotten home."

"Just things to do." Jamie said, shrugging.

"And snapping because I hugged you?"

"I was washing up and I didn't snap." Jamie eased away and got up, going to pick the dead heads of the roses. "Isn't there anything on tv you want to see?"

"Come here." Allen said simply, holding out a hand. The tone sounded anything but authoritative, but he still meant it.

Jamie sighed but went back to him, and Allen kept hold of his hand, pulling Jamie down to sit beside him.

"Out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is."

It was stupid- still more stupid- but Jamie heard his own mouth opening and his voice spilling forth of its own accord. "I said nothing, I'm just tired and grouchy, it's not a huge problem."

Allen sat in silence a moment before speaking. He couldn't really see Jamie's face from the lights inside.

"If that's ALL it is, then how about we find a video and crash upstairs in bed?"

"You go." Jamie said as lightly as he could. "I need a bath, I'll come join you in a bit."

"Are you sure that's all there is?" Allen asked, standing up.

"YES." Jamie said shortly. "Go on, I won't be long."

Allen turned and headed inside. He took a few minutes to check things downstairs.

Finishing his water, Jamie rinsed the glass out and put it away, passed Allen puttering as quickly as he could and ran upstairs. It was a relief to have the door shut. He sat down on the side of the bath and turned the taps on - and for the first time thought clearly about how definite a lie the last one had been. What's wrong? Nothing. Every chance to explain. He'd denied it.

There was no WAY now of ever getting around the fact he had lied about it, and lied badly.

Allen watched as Jamie ran up the stairs and made up his mind that something more than nothing was going on. He headed upstairs after turning off all the lights and made his way to the bedroom. He didn't even bother trying to read this time, knowing that was going to be impossible. He sat on the side of the bed and watched the clock.

It took some time to strip off and get into the bath. It was so stupid. SO stupid. Jamie, who had never done lying well, who hated anything that made Allen look at all disappointed with him, was about prepared to slide under the water and let it close over his head. Bad enough to have damaged the car- to admit to being so careless - but to not just not say about it, but LIE about it.... seriously lie about it? That was beyond redemption. And what was there to be afraid of? The idea of being afraid of Allen was ridiculous.

Sliding deeper under the water, Jamie picked up the soap and looked at it - and himself - with growing loathing. There was increasingly no way out of this, there was no possible way now to salvage this whole horrible situation.

When fifteen minutes had passed, Allen got up to pace a few times, wondering if he should head in and confront Jamie now, or wait for him to finish his bath.

Jamie, hearing his footfall get restless, sat up in the bath and wondered himself what to do. It was almost impossible now just to admit this - what Allen would think when he realised he'd been lied to in this way would be worse still than what he'd make of the carelessly wrecked car. Jamie slid out of the bath and bit his nails. Feeling like this there was only ever one thing he wanted to do, and that was to go as far away as possible, get out of sight and mind, anything to feel less trapped and less panicked.

Allen gave up pacing and headed straight for the bathroom. This had gone on far enough. He knocked sharply. "Jamie?"

"I'm still wet." Jamie said automatically, still trying to think.

"Open the door, please."

That wasn't one of Allen's easier tones, and you had to work pretty hard to get Allen to sound short. Swallowing, Jamie released the latch on the door. Allen didn't look upset, but he sounded very matter of fact.

"You're finished in the tub?"

"Pretty much."

"Dry off then, we need to talk."

Oh God. Mouth dry, Jamie pulled a towel down and hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk. About anything.

"I'm waiting," Allen said, holding up the door frame.

Slowly, Jamie took the towel and walked past him.

Allen took a few minutes to rinse out the tub and pick up Jamie's clothes. He turned out the light and followed his partner into the bedroom.

Towelling off, Jamie stood by the bed and tried to think of something - ANYTHING - to do with this whole horrible situation, other than grab the nearest clothes and run

"Go ahead and get your pyjamas on," Allen said, tossing the clothes into the hamper.

It was stupid to get so wound up. Allen was not going to yell - he never yelled. He was not going to demand a divorce. He was not going to break anything, or storm off, they wouldn't have a row. What on earth was so utterly terrifying about explaining to him about one crunched car door? Jamie sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to put pyjamas on, aware that he was starting to feel sick with pure apprehension.

Allen waited, then helped Jamie get his top on straight to improve the chances of getting to the conversation before 2am, since Jamie seemed quite prepared to spend the next six months arranging it. Then he dropped a quick kiss on his lips before standing back.

"Something is up with you. I don't care what it is, or what it involves, but I want to know now what it is."

"I keep telling you," Jamie began hopelessly.

Allen held up a hand. "Waiting is only making things seem worse, and lying - again - about it WILL make it worse. Unless you're going to tell me you're leaving me, I can handle it."

Jamie looked at him in close to flat panic. Allen quirked an eyebrow at him, an expression that usually made Jamie laugh.

"ARE you leaving me?"

"NO." Jamie said sharply.

"Good," Allen said calmly and with a small smile. "We can handle anything else. Start from the beginning."

Ha. That was so hard to do it was almost funny. Jamie looked at him in flat despair with no idea what to do.

Allen shook his head. "James. Stop trying to dissect it. Just tell me."

It wasn't often that Allen used his full name and it always meant, good natured as Allen was, he was no longer kidding.  But just explaining this whole awful situation really wasn't that simple. It wasn't so much that there might - would - be some sort of punishment, but more that he couldn't stand to think what Allen would think of him, turning something so stupid into such a big deal. He kept his head down, concentrating on his hands that were worrying at his shirt tail.

Jamie's shoulders were up around his ears, his hands were tense, he looked about ready to be sick. Allen, who knew Jamie, got up and opened the curtains, letting in the air from the open window. And then sat down on the bed and hooked an arm around Jamie, pulling him over. He was both broader and heavier than Jamie, it was easy enough to manhandle him and Jamie co operated with being gently pushed off the side of the bed until he sat on the floor with his back to Allen's legs, his head against Allen's knee. No eye contact and no pressure. Allen rubbed his shoulders, keeping his voice easy.

"What's the worst thing that's going to happen here Jamie?"

"You'll realise how much of an idiot you've married," Jamie snapped, unable to help himself.

That was the end of it. Allen dropped his hands and laughed. He felt the response in Jamie through his hands on Jamie's tense shoulders.

Jamie shot to his feet, turning to face Allen, eyes flashing. "You don't even need me to SAY anything about being an idiot, do you?"

Allen took firm hold of his hands, not even slightly put off.

"No, because you know as well as I do that isn't going to happen."

"You're laughing!" Jamie said, stamping his foot for emphasis.

"Yes, because it's ridiculous." Allen said mildly. "What am I supposed to think you're an idiot about?"

"The car," Jamie said darkly and without elaborating

"What's happened to the car?" Allen said just as calmly, pulling Jamie down against him.

Now that it was out, Jamie's tight stomach started to unwind. As he knew, Allen wasn't losing his mind, even without knowing what had exactly happened. He was still angry with himself for doing exactly what Allen had cautioned him against.

"Remember you telling me to be careful opening the doors?"

"You had another run in with a bollard?" Allen said easily. "That's what all this is about?"

"No. It was a wall."

"And how bad is the damage?"

"The door was scratched," Jamie said relaxing a little against Allen.

"A little scratched?" Allen repeated, hugging him. "It's still driveable?"

"Yes," Jamie said quietly.

"And you're this upset and convinced I'm going to disown you as an idiot because it's a little scratched?"

Now that sounded pretty dumb to Jamie, being on this side of the confession line. "You just said be careful, and I wasn't."

"No." Allen said mildly. "You'll have a large bill for that and no car for a day or so."

"It was so stupid," Jamie said expressively. "The wall was there, I saw it, but I didn't hold the door. It crashed and scratched it."

"Annoying." Allen agreed.

Jamie nodded against his side.

"But not exactly the end of the world?" Allen went on.

"No," Jamie said, after a long sigh.

Allen dropped his head against Jamie's leaning it there. "What did you think was going to happen? I'd take your keys away for a year? Go buy a horsewhip?"

It didn't raise even a glimmer of a smile, Jamie just shook his head.

"Not that. I don't know."

"What did you think was going to happen that was so bad you couldn't risk us talking about it?" Allen repeated mildly. "Did you think I'd spank you?"

At the mention of it, Jamie couldn't help but squirm a little.

"I don't KNOW. You were tired, it was stupid, I just didn't want to bother you with it."

The give away word was there. Allen hugged him, hearing the anger still in his tone, and knowing very well which of them it was directed at.

"Did you think I'd spank you?"

Talking about a pending spanking wasn't high on Jamie's list of fun things to do, but it was something that Allen wouldn't let drop.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Why?" Allen said quite simply, without sympathy for any awkwardness on the subject.

"Because I was careless and wrecked the car," Jamie replied to the floor.

"You had an accident." Allen said gently. "You didn't hurt anyone, you didn't do anything that put anyone at risk, you were a little careless with a car door. Why do you need to be spanked for that?"

Jamie was getting more and more embarrassed and just tried shrugging his shoulders.

"No." Allen said mildly. "That won't cut it. Answer me please."

"Because I was stupid after you told me to be careful," Jamie tried after a long, uncomfortable pause.

"And I spank you to train you to be less stupid?" Allen asked simply.

"Nooooooooooooooo," Jamie whined, wanting to end the conversation.

Allen, hearing the tone, pulled him closer and stroked his hair, wanting to ease the tension.

"Jamie. We'll worry about the big things - the important things. We are not going to sweat the small stuff. And scratching your car door is small stuff. It doesn't matter. You can scratch your whole car for all I care, it's your car."

Jamie took a deep breath to settle down and nodded slowly.

"And careless is not stupid." Allen went on quietly. "We're all careless sometimes. If you were careless driving or speeding, I'd worry. You're not."

Jamie finally managed a small smile and a bit of eye contact.

"Better." Allen said mildly, smoothing his hair back. "Now you tell me where the 'but' comes in to this?"

That sentence caused the first stirrings of trouble in Jamie since he'd confessed. He squirmed a bit on the bed, trying to figure out how to put a better face on what happened.

Allen waited, letting him take his time. This particular fence they came to time and time again. Jamie was, by nature a panicker. It had taken some time for them to learn to talk about these things at all, there had been times when he had simply bolted, and it took a great deal of patience each time to go back over this ground.

The silence grew uncomfortable for Jamie and he finally spoke, his throat closing up a bit as he tried to talk. "I said things were fine."

"Mhmm." Allen said calmly, waiting for Jamie to follow that thought through.

"Allleeennnn."

"Go on." Allen said mildly, not moving.

"I said things were fine and they weren't."

It wasn't coherent, but it was said with enough effort that Allen accepted it as a fair try.

"Yes." he agreed. "You told me you were okay, didn't talk about it and worried yourself in to a state. And you were in a state when I came home, weren't you?"

Jamie managed a small nod to indicate yes.

"Why is that not ok?"

"Because there was no need to be in a state."

"No, it's not necessary. And when you let yourself panic you end up winding yourself to the point of doing things on impulse."

Jamie nodded again, his stomach tightening uncomfortably.

Several difficult previous events presented themselves to Allen's mind and he suppressed them with an effort, keeping his voice easy. "Is there anything like that you need to tell me about this time?"

Jamie shook his head no vigorously. "No."

It was clear and emphatic enough that Allen accepted it: Jamie had the habit of panic from his father, a man Allen found it extremely difficult to be civil to, seeing the anxiety he had trained into his son.

"Good." he said calmly. "That's good."

Jamie turned quickly, burying his head against Allen's chest. "I just called the repair people and they came and got the car. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let it get out of hand."

"It's fine," Allen said, hugging him. "It's ok. No one's dead, no one's mad, making a mistake is not the end of the world. All you need to do is to learn to come and tell me when things go wrong, Are you that scared of me that you can't?"

"Nooooo," Jamie said against his chest. "I don't know what happens."

"Think about it." Allen said gently.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Then what's so terrible about talking to me?"

Jamie took a long time to answer, uncomfortable again. "I guess I don't want you to think less of me."

"I don't need - or want you - to be perfect." Allen said in the same quiet tone. "I'm not. Our relationship is not about perfecting you. Is it?"

"No," Jamie said quietly.

"It's really not." Allen agreed. "It's ok to make mistakes, it's ok not to be perfect. It is not ok to get yourself into a state keeping those kinds of secrets from me. Is it?"

"No, sir," Jamie said thickly.

Allen kissed him and put him on his feet. "Then we're going to deal with this, and then we're going to stop worrying about it, and what are you going to do next time?"

"Tell you," Jamie said to the floor.

"Hold that thought." Allen drew him over and waited.

Swallowing on a suddenly dry throat, Jamie very slowly lowered his pyjamas to mid thigh, as always, shocked at how different this was to getting undressed in front of him at any other time. He took in a long, shaky breath before he could gather the courage to stand up on tiptoe and start leaning over his lover's lap.

Allen steadied him, waiting until he settled himself into position and was still before he pushed back the tail of Jamie's draping pyjama top and wrapped an arm around his waist. He said nothing further, simply raised his hand and brought it sharply down across the nearest buttock in a brisk and sharp slap. Jamie tried not to jump or yell, but that was a very well placed spank and he knew it was going to be followed by plenty more. The sound was still reverberating around the room when the second swat landed, followed quickly by the third and fourth. The tears started, silent at first. They weren't brought about by the pain, which was steadily increasing, but more the thoughts of shame that this position always brought. He was here because he deserved it. Not for any other reason that he might want to think, but he brought this upon himself. The first few spanks always ratcheted up the mental pain, but it hadn't yet failed to be totally squashed by the physical pain that brought forth whimpers and moans.

Allen tightened a hand around his hip as Jamie began to twitch and then to actively squirm, unable to stay still under the steady barrage of swats covering all the ground from hips to the top of both thighs. Both buttocks rapidly turning a hot and darkening pink, Allen concentrated on the under curves and administered a rapid series of spanks on the same two spots, moving back and forth in a swift tattoo that raised not only a wail from Jamie but made him twist where he was over Allen's lap, struggling to get his bottom away from Allen's hand. There were no more thoughts of shame, failing dignity, or recriminations. His whole being centred on one patch of skin and the rapidly burning swats that fanned the flames and the very serious desire never to find himself in this position again. It took a moment or two of serious struggles and almost panicked cries before he realized the hand that had felt so hard before was now resting comfortingly across his back.

Allen rubbed the small of his back gently, feeling him go from rigidity to a sudden limpness as Jamie flopped over his lap and burst into serious tears. It wasn't a moment to say anything. Allen stroked him with deep sympathy, feeling the shuddering of Jamie's chest against his thighs, then when he finally took a deep breath, slid him gently down to his knees and stooped and hugged him tightly.

Jamie hugged him back, trying hard to stop the worst of the tears. He was quite happy on the floor on his knees at the moment. It was some time before he was quiet, and when he was no longer clinging so tightly, Allen put an arm around him and half lifted him to his feet, smoothing Jamie's hot hair back off his forehead and kissing him.

"Get into bed sweetheart, I'll bring you a drink and a flannel."

Jamie carefully pulled his pants back into place before yanking the covers down and curling up on his side in bed. His breathing was still ragged and his face felt like it was covered in cement.

Allen came back to him a moment later and sat on the side of the bed, putting a mug of tea into his hand and a cold, damp flannel.

"Put that on your eyes a minute. You had virtually nothing for tea, are you hungry?"

Jamie wiped his face, then settled the flannel on his eyes, holding it in place, the tea sitting on the bed in his hand. "Thanks.....no."

Allen didn't argue. Settling back on the pillows beside his partner he put a hand on the back of Jamie's neck, massaging gently.

When the tea was cooler and Jamie didn't think there was any danger of inhaling it, he leaned up on his elbow and took a sip or two. Then he removed the flannel and reached for a few tissues, doing what he could to make breathing easier.

Allen took the flannel from him, folded it and ran it over the back of his neck, then threw it through the open door into the bathroom and leaned over to turn the light out. The room was dimly lit and cool from the open window.

Jamie, careful not to roll the wrong way, snuggled up to his partner, leaving the blanket off for the moment. A few sniffles still escaped now and then, but things were finally all right again in the world.

~The End~

Copyright Rolf and Ranger 2010

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

awwww, poor Jamie. He almost got me stressed with him! did he have to get spank in this one :(

Most of the artwork on the blog is by Canadian artist Steve Walker.

Rolf and Ranger’s Next Book will be called The Mary Ellen Carter. The Mary Ellen Carter and other works in progress can be read at either the Falls Chance Ranch Discussion Group or the Falls Chance Forum before they are posted here at the blog. So come and talk to the authors and be a part of a work in progress.





Do you want to read the FCR Books
and Short Stories on your E-Reader?
Well, lucky for you, e-book files can be found in
both the Yahoo Group and the Discussion Forum.