South of Broad

by: Dash

September 5, 2004

 

My thanks and gratitude to my friends who saw me through the start of a random story idea called "Family" and my friends who saw me through the birth of "South of Broad".  My only disappointment and regret is that those groups are not the same.

 

My thanks and gratitude to my wonderful betas K, A and K.  Their hard work made this story, the story that it is.  They were honest, encouraging and never afraid to suggest changes, rewordings and advice, all the while remembering it was my story.  They were the best betas I could ask for.  All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

And, as always, my thanks and eternal gratitude to M.  Life would be meaningless without him.

 

 

"Are you sure you don't mind doing this?  You're just going to be home a day before we have to leave."

 

Eric looked up from the small suitcase he was packing and smiled at his lover.  "I don't mind at all, John.  I'm looking forward to it and I honestly think it will be good for you."

 

The other man gave him a small smile, "Always looking out for my best interest.  Why good for me?"

 

Putting down the jeans he was folding, he walked over to where his lover sat, "Because Kiwi, I think it's time that your family met me.  They know you're gay, they know you're in a committed relationship and we have nothing to hide."  He bent down and kissed the other man gently on the forehead, winking.  "Plus, it's also for me.  The idea of being separated from you for five days after having to be gone these three, seems unbearable."

 

"I don't know how I could do it alone either," John admitted softly.  "I've gotten too attached to you."

 

Eric smiled, "Well, that's the idea.  I can't have you going off with any of those rugged, he-men types you play with every weekend."  He glanced at the clock, "Speaking of which, don't you need to get going?"

 

"Yeah," he said reluctantly, standing up from the chair. "You're coming, right?"

 

The other man pulled him into a strong hug leaning up slightly so they could kiss, "I wouldn't miss it for the world.  What can be more fun than to watch the love of my life run around in the cold in shorts, getting beat up while he's beating up on other guys."

 

John laughed squeezing him tightly as he buried his face into the other man's neck, "Thank you."

 

Dropping his hands down so they possessively rested on his partner's butt, the other man gave him a gentle pat, "Love you."

 

"Love you too," John said, kissing him again before reluctantly letting go, then picked up his gear bag and headed for the door. He in the doorway to their bedroom, then slowly turned around, giving John a small smile. "I don't know how good of a game it's going to be.  We're probably going to get beat and it's kind of chilly outside this morning and you hate the cold.  You don't have to come if you don't want to.  Seems silly to come just to watch me lose. You could stay here and finish packing and I'll be home in plenty of time before you leave for the airport."

 

Eric smiled, "Go, before you're late.  And I will be there.  Your game starts at eleven, so I'll be there around 10:45. Win or lose, it doesn't matter to me.  I want to be there." 

 

 

 

Ninety minutes later, Eric swung his car into the parking lot of the school where the rugby game was being played.  Cursing silently, he hurriedly locked the car, pocketed his keys, then walked quickly toward the playing fields.  The game had just started as he made his way through the small crowd of family and friends, then up the stairs to the top of the small freestanding bleachers where he would be easily visible.  Standing at the top, he scanned the players on the field, smiling as he zeroed in on John. 

 

A few moments later as if sensing the scrutiny, John scanned the bleachers, giving his lover a small smile and the tiniest of waves as their eyes made contact.

 

Breathing a small sigh of relief as he was spotted, Eric sat down on the bleachers.  Shivering slightly as the cold from the metal seats seeped through his jeans, he jammed his hands further into his coat and tried to concentrate on the game.

 

"You know, it is January, Eric.  You're supposed to bring either a blanket or one of those foam seat things to sit on," a voice next to him said.  "Don't want those cute buns of yours getting frost bite."

 

He turned from the game and saw Linda, the wife of the team's captain standing next to him holding two steaming cups.  He laughed, nodding, "I know but I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot to grab them from the garage. Then there was massive construction on 75 so there was a huge back up.  And please, in the name of all that is good and holy, don't let your husband hear you call anything of mine cute."  He nodded toward the 6'4 captain of the team, "It wouldn't be pleasant."

 

She laughed, then sat down next to him and handed him a cup, "Here, maybe this will help.  It's not Starbucks but it's hot."  Glancing out at the field, her smile grew wider as she watched her husband tackle an opponent, "I don't know about that, Eric.  Mike can be rather pleasant when he's jealous." 

 

Eric laughed as he gratefully took the steaming cup, smiling as he saw it was hot tea, "Thanks.  This will make it much more bearable."

 

"So Mike told me that you and John are off next weekend to see his folks?"

 

The man nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry we're not going to be able to come to your dinner. They're having a family get together and it's been a couple of years since he's been home."

 

Linda smiled, "No problem, I understand the joys of family obligations.  It seems like most of our vacation days are eaten up either at his parents or mine."  She turned back to the game, watching another play before commenting, "Mike was a bit worried but it looks like this other team is all talk and not much talent."  She took another sip of her own tea, turning back to Eric.  "So is this first time John's brought you home?"

 

He nodded,  "Yeah.  They know all about me, of course, and they've seen pictures, but this is going to be the first time we've actually met."

 

"You nervous?"

 

Eric shrugged again, "I don't know.  It'll be an interesting weekend.  I have to go out of town tonight for some work and won't be back until late Tuesday.  We're driving to Charleston on Thursday so ask me again on Wednesday if I'm nervous."

 

She laughed, then took another sip of her own tea, before turning back to the game.  A few moments later, she said softly, "I think that seeing your relationship first hand can be a shock for some families.  It's different than just knowing about it."

 

Eric glanced at her, "Yeah.  I think so.  When it's just words on a piece of paper or on the phone, it's one thing."

 

"But seeing your son bring home another man as his lover is another," Linda said, finishing his thought.  "As much as I love my brother and his partner and as much as I support them, I admit, I was a bit taken back the first time he brought Randy home for Christmas."  She blushed slightly, "It was just a shock, I think, to see him with another man."

 

"I think that's totally understandable, Linda.  People are usually surprised by the different, even if they know it exists.  It's nothing to be ashamed of, it's human nature." 

 

She smiled at him and patted his leg, "Thank you."

 

 

 

"I'm really starting to feel that hit," John commented three hours later as they walked back into their house.   Dropping his bag on the floor and moving his shoulder up and down, he grimaced a bit.  "I think it was numb with the cold before and I didn't notice."

 

"Go take a warm shower and if it's still bothering you before I leave, I'll rub some BenGay on it," the other man said.  "It was a hard hit, I'm not surprised it's hurting.  It looked like he caught your shoulder with his knee when you fell."

 

Stretching a bit more, John grimaced as his shoulder popped loudly.  He moved his shoulder a bit more, "I think that took care of it.  Feels better now. But, a shower still sounds good.  I'm cold too."  "

 

"And dirty."

 

Grinning at his lover, John raised an eyebrow in invitation as he picked up his bag, "You want to go get dirty with me?"

 

"No, what I want is for you to go take a shower and warm up before you catch cold.  Then maybe we can go have lunch."

 

John laughed, "You're just no fun."  Then he laughed again as his lover stuck out his tongue at him, "And I thought you didn't want to go get dirty with me."

 

"Well," Eric said, pretending to think about it, "I am going to be gone for almost three days…"

 

"See!  Three days!"

 

The Top smiled, "Go get in the shower and I'll think about it.  You did play great today, maybe you do deserve a reward."

 

"Oh yeah," John said smiling.  "I do deserve a reward! Did you see that tackle?"

 

"Which one?  You made a bunch."

 

"See!  Multiple rewards then."  Dropping his bag again, he took four steps to where his lover stood leaning against the sink and kissed him.  "I played so well because I knew you were there."

 

Eric kissed him back, "I'm at all your games, regardless of how you play.  I'm not there to see the game, I'm there for you."

 

"But I'm playing for you," he said softly.  "I want to make you proud."

 

"I am proud of you, regardless."

 

"But I need you to be proud of me."

 

The older man reached up slightly to caress his lover's check and was rewarded as John turned his head into the gesture.  "I am very proud of you.  I am proud to point to you on the field or on the street or across the room and say 'I'm with him' and for everyone to know that."

 

"Promise?" he asked quietly.

 

"I swear."

 

John nodded silently, then after pulling away he gave his lover a small smile, "I'm going to go take a shower."

 

Nodding, Eric smiled at him, "Good."  He watched as his Brat picked up his gear bag and walked out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs to their bedroom. Turning toward the refrigerator, he pulled open the door, studying the contents to see about lunch.  His mind wandered back over the conversation and his lover's need for approval.  It hadn't been an issue for months now and he idly wondered if the upcoming trip to his parents was bringing up old feelings of failure and not living up to other people's expectations.  He glanced up as the sound of the shower came through the floor.  Shutting the still open refrigerator door, uninterested in any of the food inside, he walked quietly upstairs and to his partner. 

 

The house's previous owners had obviously loved to bathe and shower and the master bath rivaled many spas with a large multi-headed tiled shower and deep, freestanding tub.  Quickly stripping off his clothes, he walked naked into the already lightly steamy bathroom.  He opened the shower door, saying, "Is there room for me?"

 

John turned around and smiled, "Always."

 

"I was hoping you'd say that," the Top said, stepping into the large enclosure.  Taking the bar of soap from John's hand, he smiled, "Let me."  Lathering his hands liberally, he winked at his partner.  "Don't move, I wouldn't want to risk getting any in your eyes," he ordered.

 

"Are you going to wash my face?"

 

"No," Eric said simply, slowly running his soapy hands across his lover's chest, leaving a thin trail of suds that were quickly washed away.  "But you can never be too careful, especially when you're dealing with something as wonderful and precious as you."

 

John blushed and gasped slightly as the other man's hands dipped lower down his chest, tickling his belly button and following the thin line of hair toward his cock.  "Eric," he started.

 

"Hush," the Top ordered, stopping his hands just as they reached his lover's patch of hair.  Splaying his hands wide, he ran them over the other man's hips and then started back up his sides.  "Stand there, Kiwi.  Don't move, don't talk, just stand there and feel my hands on you."  Picking up the soap again with one hand, the other resting around John's hip, he relathered, then continued the slow bath.

 

"Yes," John breathed out slowly, his skin twitching with the sensation of the hands on him.  He shifted slightly, legs moving further apart as his cock began to respond.

 

When he reached his partner's shoulders, Eric reached out with one hand and brought the other man's head down toward his and began to kiss him deeply.  His lips gently forced the others apart as his tongue dipped inside briefly.  "No, no", he whispered as he felt John's hands move toward his own waist. His free hand dropping from John's shoulders to his butt where he slapped it lightly, the sound drowned out by the water pouring down.

 

Dropping his hands again, John groaned as the Top broke the kiss and pulled back with a small smile.  "I don't think I can do this," he said, shifting again as his cock hardened further.  "I want you."

 

"Yes, you can," Eric said firmly.  "Turn around."

 

John turned around so that he was facing the wall. He groaned slightly and then leaned forward, resting his hands against the cool, wet surface as the other man's hands began their slow glide down his back.

 

The Top smiled at his partner's reaction as he gently glided his hands over the other man's smooth butt.  His fingers dipped between his cheeks briefly before he squatted down and continued down his lover's legs. 

 

"Please, Eric," John said softly, shifting again so his legs were spread wider. 

 

"What do you want?  Tell me," Eric whispered, standing up, his own hard cock pressing against his lover's butt.

 

"I want you."

 

Eric reached around and brushed against the man's hard cock, "I can tell.  But what else?"

 

John shifted again, leaning forward further so he pressed back against his lover, "I want you inside of me.  I want to feel you taking me hard."

 

"But I only do that with people I love, people I'm proud of, people I cherish more than anything," Eric said softly, kissing the bent neck in front of him.

 

"But that's how you feel about me," John said quietly, firmly.

 

"Are you sure?  You didn't seem sure in the kitchen," he asked between kisses.

 

The Brat nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure.  You don't lie and you've told me and you've shown me and I know it without question."

 

"Very good Kiwi," the other man said, gently putting a knee between his lover's legs and nudging them apart further.  "Bend over a bit more for me," he ordered gently, still moving one hand in large, lazy motions around his lover's back and side.  He twisted around slightly; grabbed the small bottle of lube they kept on the ledge and with practiced ease, flipped the tube open and squirted it into his hand.  Quickly snapping it closed and tossing it aside, he spread the smooth liquid on his own hard cock.

 

Bending over and bracing his hands against the shower wall, John shifted again, his cock hard and starting to throb slightly. It twitched more as he heard the plastic bottle of lube splash in the water as it was tossed to the floor of the shower.  He groaned and arched his back as he felt Eric move between his legs and grip his waist.

 

Eric leaned slightly over his lover, pressing his cock against the opening.  Pushing slowly but deliberately, he sighed at the sensation of sinking deep into the other man.  Beneath his hands, he felt John squirming and shaking slightly.

 

The Brat moaned, "Yes."

 

Once he was fully inside, he leaned down so he was almost surrounding John and kissed his neck.  "God you're beautiful like this.  Wet and warm and open, taking all of me inside."  He stood back up and then pulled halfway out before pushing fully back inside.

 

Hands splayed taut against the tile, John shook with the clashing sensations of the warm water running down his body, the almost throbbing from his cock that seem to beat in rhythm of Eric's thrusts and the small electric charges going off each time the thick cock brushed against his prostate.  "Oh god," he panted, finally giving in to the sensation and reaching down to stroke his own cock.

 

Eric bent all the way down, his cock buried fully inside and wrapped an arm around his partner's chest, and then stood up, bringing his partner up with him and driving his cock in further.  "Yes," he cried out as he came hard. 

 

The further sensation of being painfully filled and stretched was enough to send John over the edge and he came moments after his partner.  He shuddered, eyes tightly closed, as Eric pulled slowly out of him and the resulting emptiness was enough to leave him sagging against the tile wall.  He turned his face toward the still pounding water and allowed it to wash over him.

 

"God, that was good," Eric said panting slightly as he leaned against the back wall. 

 

John smiled tiredly at him, "God, that's an understatement."

 

"Want to try again in a few minutes?  I am going to be gone for a couple of days …" Eric asked, his voice trailing off as he gave his partner a wolfish grin.

 

John laughed, "God, that's an understatement."

 

 

 

Taking a sip of hot tea, Eric looked at Mike, "I don't know about this.  Guys who are just coming out usually aren't my cup of tea."  He shrugged with a smile, "Figuratively speaking, of course.  Too much angst and gnashing of teeth and there's always the risk that they're going to go back to the dark side."

 

The other man swallowed a bite of his bagel before answering, "I don't know that he's just come out, Eric.  For all I know he's been hanging a rainbow flag from his house for years."

 

"I thought you said he just came out."

 

"No, I said, or at least meant, that he just came out to me.  We've been having lunch together once or twice a week for the last few months or so on the way back from meetings up at the Perimeter offices, and then a couple of weeks ago, he casually mentioned that he was at Bananas on Saturday night and had a great time.  We got to talking and he's a nice guy."   He smiled at his friend, adding, "I'd take him if I didn't think Karl would find out."

 

Eric rolled his eyes as he finished up his own bagel, "Give me a break, you wouldn't cheat on Karl even if he was living in the Arctic for the next five years."

 

The other man shrugged, "That's not the point.  The point is that I have two Braves tickets that we're not going to be using, good seats, so I was thinking that you could meet him there.  I know he's a sports fan; he plays something.  I saw a gear bag in his trunk several times."

 

"So you're going to give me a ticket, give one to him and tell him that a friend of yours is going to meet him there.  He's going to know it's a set up."

 

Mike laughed, "Well hell man, I'd hope so.  He's smart enough at work, I'd assume he's not an idiot when it comes to his private life.  Plus, I asked him about it yesterday and he said that it would be fun."  Draining his coffee, he stood up, "Besides which, you need to get out there.  It's been over six months since Terry and that's just way too much Jergens."

 

Standing up with his friend, Eric shook his head and glanced around the small cafe, "Don't be vulgar and it's just now six months."

 

"Whatever, it's too long.  Plus, he's nice.  Good looking, funny, smart, has a job, drives a nice car, haven't heard any rumors about the police or psycho ex's or any bill collectors calling the office; what more can you ask for?"

 

The other man nodded slowly, "OK.  Let me have the ticket.  It's just a couple hours and it's casual." 

 

"Right and you'll be watching the game," Mike said, pulling out his wallet and extracting the ticket. 

 

Taking it and putting it into his own wallet, Eric said, "And if it's a disaster, I'll be sure to call you when I get home and tell you all about it."  He smiled at his friend, "I should be home no later than midnight.  I'm sure you'd love to talk then."  They walked out of the café together, each heading toward his own cars when Eric stopped, calling out across the small parking lot, "Hey, what's this guy's name again?"

 

"John McAllister, dark brown hair, about your height or maybe a bit taller," Mike said before sliding into his own car.  "Just trust me, you'll like him."

 

 

 

Slowly waking up Eric smiled at the dream of their meeting just over two years ago.  The baseball game had been a huge success and after a few hesitant and awkward starts and stops, they had fallen happily into a pattern and a relationship.  It had taken six more months,  multiple awkward conversations and four long, painful weeks of silence and separation before they had moved in together.  He moved his face a bit and kissed John's bare back before slowly pulling himself out of his lover's body and gently rolling off of him, trying hard not to wake the sleeping man.

 

Beneath him, still face down on the mattress, John shifted, protesting slightly as Eric left the bed.  "Another ten minutes," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

 

"Can't Kiwi," Eric said reluctantly, slipping into a pair of underwear.  "It's getting late.  I need to get going or I'm going to miss my flight."

 

Opening his eyes, John looked at his partner sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on his socks.  He moved his foot so it rubbed against his leg.  "Would that be so bad?  It's been a long time since I've let a guy have his way with me, only for him to get up and leave before the sheets are dry."

 

Eric laughed and stood up, "Yes, that would be so bad and I don't want to leave any more than you.  I have dinner plans with my publisher tonight, an interview first thing tomorrow morning, a lunch thing that I'm speaking at and then appearances in the afternoon.  I don't have time to try to get another flight."

 

The other man sat up, then sighed, "And you'll be too busy to even miss me."

 

"That's right, you won't even enter into my mind," Eric said as he tugged on a casual sweatshirt and ran a brush through his hair.

 

"You won't even think about me sitting here all alone, all by myself."

 

Eric laughed, "All by myself…." He started to sing off key and with exaggerated motions.  "Ouch! Watch it!" he said in mock anger as a pillow came flying in his direction.  "But, I think this afternoon should make up for any loneliness or deprivation you endure while I'm gone for a whole 48 hours."

 

"Fifty-one," John countered getting out of bed and padding naked over to one of the bedroom chairs loaded with clean clothes.  He picked up a pair of boxers and slipped them on before continuing.  "You're going to be gone at least 51 hours, not just 48."

 

"Fine, fine, fine, 51.  And I just fucked you senseless twice, so the way I look at it, you're ahead of the game."  He pulled up the handle of his rolling bag, "Walk me downstairs?"

 

John smiled, "Of course and I'd like to hear an explanation of your math if you're saying I'm ahead."  Taking the other man's trench coat out of the closet, he followed him down the stairs, "Because according to my calculations, we usually have sex at least twice on Sunday so we're even for today."

 

"Yes, but you're not taking into account the quality of that sex.  You're just looking at quantity."

 

"So you're saying that you're usually only a mediocre lover, so when you do manage to do a great job, it should count for more."  John smiled sweetly at him, "Is that what you're saying, hon?"

 

Eric looked at him, trying hard not to smile, "You are a brat."  Taking the coat from him, he opened the door to the garage.  "Don't come out like that," he ordered, glancing at the other man's state of undress.  "Don't want to be shocking the neighbors or you getting sick."

 

"Yes, dear."

 

"Yep, a brat, without a doubt."  Slinging the coat over the handle of the bag, the Top pulled him into a hug, dropping his hands so they rested on John's butt.  He kissed him gently before saying, "Thank god you're my Brat."

 

"Yeah," he agreed softly.  "Miss me."

 

"Always."  He patted his butt, "And you've got your schedule and you're going to follow it, right?  I don't want to be warming this when I get back, because of stuff not being done."

 

John blushed slightly, "Yeah, I've got my schedule and I know what I'm doing."

 

"Good," he said, kissing him again, before reluctantly pulling away.  "I'll call you when I get to the hotel and give you the room number and stuff.  It should be around 6, I think.  Don't forget the time change."

 

"Yes, dear," the taller man said with a laugh.  "You wrote it in big letters on the packet of information you gave me."

 

Closing the back door to his car, Eric laughed, "Two sheets, just two sheets.  That's not a packet. Now go back inside and shut the door before you get cold and sick."

 

Giving a small salute, John blew him a kiss and then stepped back into the warm house, but continued to watch as the car backed slowly out.  Giving a final wave and catching the kiss his lover threw at him, he reluctantly pushed the garage door button, closing it against the cold air.

 

 

 

Walking into the kitchen, John restlessly glanced at the clock again and made a face.  Eric had called from his car and leaving the park n' ride at the airport.  It was thirty to forty minutes from the airport to their house, so that meant at best another five minutes, at worst, another fifteen.  Stirring the soup again, he roamed into the front of the house and opened the blinds, staring out into the darkened neighborhood.   A flash of lights a minute later caused him to hold his breath and, watching them draw closer, he smiled as the familiar shape pulled into the driveway accompanied by the sound of the garage door opening.

 

"Miss me?" Eric asked, getting out of the car.  He barely had time to get his arms up before John came barreling towards him and pushed against him.  "I'll take that as a yes."

 

"You're early," John said with a smile.  "I wasn't expecting you for another ten minutes."

 

The Top laughed, "I know.  I called you when I hit the split, not from the park n' ride.  I knew you'd be anxious and I figured there was no sense you counting the minutes."

 

"Seconds," John corrected, hugging him tight and kissing him.  "God I missed you."

 

He hugged him tight before slowly pulling away to get his bag out of the back, "It was only two days."

 

John shrugged, "I know.  Just …"  His voice trailed off as he shrugged again.  "I don't know.  Just missed you."

 

Deciding not to pursue it, the Top smiled,  "Missed you too."  As they stepped into the house, still smiling, he sniffed the air, "Something smells really good."

 

"Minestrone soup," John explained, taking the coat and tossing it over a kitchen chair.  "I thought you might like something homemade and not too fussy after eating out so much."

 

"That sounds great and you're right.  I'm sort of sick of heavy meals.  Soup and bread sounds great."  He held out his hand, "Now come here Kiwi, I want to give you a proper Hi."

 

 

 

"So tell me about how your meeting went," John asked twenty minutes later, as he spooned the soup out into bright red and white bowls.

 

"It went well.  My publisher loved the idea of having a sort of working section in the next book.  You know, showing my working drawings and sketches next to the completed ones.  Thanks love," Eric said, taking a bowl from him.  "So it was a good, productive couple of days."

 

John sat down at the kitchen table, saying, "Good.  I'm glad it went well.  And your presentation at the lunch?"

 

"The students loved it."  He laughed, "Of course, I'm not sure if they loved the freebie stuff or my talk, but they were in a good mood and responded well to my jokes and a bunch stayed after for pictures and to ask questions."  He took a sip of soup, "This is great.  You did a great job."

 

The Brat smiled, "I heat up well.  It's part of the batch I made last month and froze.  All I did was dump it into a pan and heat up the rolls."  He gave a dismissive shrug, "Not hard at all."

 

"Hey, don't dismiss it," Eric said, taking another bite.  "It's great and it's perfect for today.  I was hungry and this hits the spot."  Breaking open a hot roll, he slathered butter on it, "So what did you do while I was gone.  Did the schedule work for you?"

 

John nodded, "Yeah, it worked well.  It kept me on track and I set the kitchen timer like we talked about.  I wrote for two hours in the morning and then for two more hours in the afternoon.  It worked really well."  Taking another bite of his soup, he continued, "I did today's work on a separate file and then I copied it over to the main file so I could see how much I had done and I easily met our goals each day.  It worked really well and I didn't feel stressed at all about not making it or not having done enough."

 

"Good.  So did you do anything?"

 

"No, not really, we didn't need to do any grocery shopping since we're leaving on Thursday.  We can finish up leftovers tomorrow night or if you want to go out or order pizza.  Ran to the library and got us some new books.  The book you requested came in.."

 

Eric smiled, "Good, I was hoping that'd come in before we left."

 

"I put it up on your nightstand for you, got a speeding ticket on the way home and picked up a gift for Mom that I thought we could take to her.  You know?  It's just a collection of bulbs in a pretty container," he said casually.  "Can I have another roll, please?"  He reached out for the basket, avoiding his lover's eyes.

 

"What was that second part," Eric asked smoothly, keeping his voice casual and neutral as he handed over the roll.  

 

"I went to the library?"

 

"After that."

 

"I got some bulbs for mom?"

 

The other man raised an eyebrow, "Is this something you want to play games with, John?"

 

He shook his head, "No.  I got a speeding ticket on the way home from the library."  Putting down his spoon, he swallowed, saying softly, "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to tell you."

 

"It's OK," Eric said, reaching over and squeezing his hand.  "We'll deal with it tonight and it'll be over.  I'm not mad."

 

"But I screwed up tonight, I wanted tonight to be good.  You've been gone for two days and I fucked it up.  I ruin everything, I mean I can't even manage to have a dinner to welcome you home without doing something wrong and ruining it." He angrily pushed back his chair and stood up, grabbing his bowl from the table and carrying it to the sink.  "I almost told you last night when it happened but stopped myself.," he confessed.  "At least I managed not to ruin your trip."

 

Eric leaned back in the wood chair, holding out his hand, "Hey, come back here."  He motioned again and cleared his throat loudly when his lover stayed at his position by the sink.

 

"I don't want to," the Brat said quietly, flipping on the water to rinse his bowl.

 

"Well, honestly," the other man said firmly, "I don't care what you want.  I'm telling you to come back here and I expect you to."

 

John slowly shut off the water and walked cautiously back toward the table.  "Are you going to spank me?"

 

The Top rolled his eyes, "Have I ever spanked you in the kitchen?"

 

"No."

 

Pushing against his partner's chair to slide it out further, he nodded toward it, "Sit.  Talk."  He picked up his spoon, "Plus, I'm still hungry and your soup is wonderful.  We're going to finish our nice dinner, we're going to talk like the loving couple we are and then we'll go upstairs and deal with your speeding ticket."  He took another spoonful.  "Yes?"  He nodded toward the chair, dropping his voice a bit to a gentle tone, "Come on, John.  Sit down and talk to me.  It happens, we'll deal with it; the evening won't be as great as we hoped, but it happens.  I still love you and am very proud of how well you did while I was gone and want to hear more about how the schedule did and if it worked and how you were feeling.  Your ticket doesn’t change the fact that I'm happy to be home. Nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked up and you haven't managed to destroy the universe as we know it by speeding."

 

The other man sat down, trying to force a smile.  "I'm glad you like the soup."

 

"I do, it's great.  So tell me about your schedule.  Did you feel organized and in control?"

 

He nodded slowly, "Yeah, it worked really well."

 

Twenty minutes later, they were still talking and Eric was privately thrilled to see his Brat more relaxed and smiling again.  One of their earlier hurdles to overcome was John realizing that breaking the rules did not mean anger, disappointment, accusations and feelings of failure.  Incidents were talked about, quickly dealt with and then just as quickly forgiven and moved past.  Watching his partner describe the scene in his novel, the Top silently wondered if, like his insecurities on Sunday, these old issues were being brought up because of their upcoming trip.

 

"Should I go upstairs now?"

 

The question jerked him out of his thoughts and Eric gave him a small smile.  "Do you think you're able to talk about it now?  Without the I've Ruined Everything speech?"

 

John nodded, "Yeah.  We'll deal with it and still have an OK evening."

 

"That's right, so why I don't I clean up the kitchen and you go wait upstairs for me.  I'll be up in about five minutes."  Watching his lover walk out, he knew that giving him those few minutes alone were important.  John needed the time to prepare himself and understand that he was trusted to do the right thing on his own.  He didn't need his Top to march him upstairs and lord over him.

 

Ten minutes later, John shifted slightly as the other man patted his bare butt.  Lying across his lap on the couch was more comfortable than when the Top used a chair but it also indicated a longer discussion too.

 

"So you were on Roswell coming from the library and this cop just pulled you over?" Eric asked, resting his hand on his partner's butt.

 

"Yeah, I was just keeping up with traffic, I swear."

 

"Were you in the left or right hand lane?"

 

John shifted under the weight, "I don't know."

 

Raising his hand, the Top swatted him hard twice, "I'm sure you do know."

 

"The left," he admitted softly.  "I was probably going a bit faster than some of the people, but you know how they poke."

 

The Top swatted him twice more, "Probably?"

 

Blinking back tears, the Brat shifted again, "No, not probably.  I was going faster than some of them.  There was a whole line of cars in the right lane and I was just trying to pass them.  I swear I would have slowed down and moved over as soon as I was past them."

 

"So you admit you were going faster than them, a good deal faster if you were trying to pass a whole row of cars?"

 

Knowing it was useless, John nodded, "Yeah.  I was speeding because they were going slow and I didn't want to wait.  Everyone speeds."  Then he added hastily, "Even though that doesn't make it right."

 

Eric chuckled in spite of himself.  "Right.  I know you understand, the trick is to make you remember it.  What's the speed limit on Roswell there?"

 

"Forty-five."

 

"And how fast were you going?" the Top asked as he picked up the small round wooden paddle they used.

 

"The cop said 68."

 

"So that is how much over the speed limit?"

 

Knowing the question was coming, John didn't have to think about the answer.  "Twenty-three," he said quietly, leaning his head down and resting it on his folded arms.

 

"Ok.  You've lost your license for the next 23 days, starting when we get back from Charleston.  If you need to drive anywhere, you will ask me for it back and I'll decide if you can go or not.  I am also going to give you one swat for each mile over and I want you to count them out for me.  Maybe that will help you to remember what ten miles over, fifteen miles over, whatever feels like.  You can decide then if it's worth it to you to speed."

 

John nodded silently, squirming under the feel of the smooth wood against his butt.

 

Raising the paddle, the Top brought it down smartly full across the exposed skin.  He paused as his partner counted in a quiet voice.  

 

On the 17^th swat, John twisted around, tears running down his cheeks. "Stop.  I swear.  I get it, I won't speed again.  I'm sorry, please stop," he sobbed out.

 

Putting down the paddle, Eric wiped a couple of tears from his partner's face before gently pushing him back face down across his lap and holding him securely.  "I know you get it John and I know you're sorry and that will hopefully change things in the future.  But right now, that doesn't stop your actions and it doesn't stop your punishment.  You chose to speed and like all actions, there are consequences."  He picked up the paddle and landed a swat firmly across his partner's already red and hot bottom.  When the other man didn't say anything, he raised it again and landed a harder swat.  "If you don't count it, I don't count it and we can keep going as long as you want."  He raised the paddle again and swatted him again, this time hearing a sobbed count come.  Finishing at a slow but deliberate pace, Eric put down the paddle a minute later.  Laying his hand again on his partner's butt, he gently rubbed his back.  "Very good John, deep breaths and let it out."

 

Fifteen minutes later, the lights in the office were dimmed and the television played low in the background.  John looked up from where he was lying on the couch, his head resting in his Top's lap and said, "I am sorry about the ticket and I'm sorry for asking you to stop while you were paddling me."

 

Eric leaned down and kissed him, "Don't worry about it.  I'd ask for it to stop too and I know you didn't really mean it."

 

The Brat laughed, "Well, I sort of meant it."  He sighed slightly, "Do you think I'll be sore Thursday?"

 

"No, I don't think so.  You'll be a bit tender tomorrow but you should be fine by Thursday.  I didn't put my whole arm into it," he confessed.

 

Shifting slightly, John snorted, "Could have fooled me."

 

"Well, I put most of it," the Top said with a smile as he stroked his is partner's hair.  "Our relationship and you are too important to do a half-ass job."

 

"And you're not angry about tonight," he asked softly, closing his eyes and relaxing under the touch.

 

Eric shook his head, "No Kiwi, I'm not angry.  It's not how I would have picked to spend the night.  But, I am so proud of you for telling me.  I know you didn't want to, I know you were upset about it but you still told me.  You still trusted me enough to tell me, knowing full well what would happen."

 

The Brat shrugged slightly and yawned, "If I don't tell you when I screw up, if I don't trust you to handle it, then our relationship is sort of worthless."  He yawned again, "My butt hurts, my nose is stuffy, my eyes are red but I can't imagine living in any other kind of relationship.  I need it."

 

"You seemed a bit unsure earlier," Eric commented casually.

 

"Oh, I don't know."

 

Kissing him again, the Top resumed his petting, "If you want to try to figure it out, let me know."

 

"I will, I promise," John said sincerely.  "I just don't know right now.  My head is spinning and there's too much going on."  He fell silent again before saying, "Can you just hold me right now and let's just watch TV?  I just want to be quiet and close right now."

 

"I think that sounds like a very good idea," he said.  "Are you comfortable or do you want to go upstairs to bed?"

 

John gingerly sat up, wincing slightly as his butt made contact with the sofa cushions, "Is it too early for bed?"

 

"No, not at all.  I'm tired too," the other man said, standing up and offering his hand to his partner to help him up.  "Come on, we'll watch tv in there and just be quiet together."

 

 

 

"The last time we did this, it was more fun," John commented in the shower several minutes later.  He winced slightly as the water hit his reddened skin and quickly turned his butt away from the stream.

 

"The last time we did this, you weren't sore," the Top said, affectionately patting him. "We'll do it again soon."  Shutting off the water, he reached outside the shower and got them both towels, handing one to John.  "Here, I don't want you to get cold.  Dry off and then straight into bed."

 

Taking the towel, John quickly toweled off.  "You have an obsession with getting cold."  He put the towel back on its rack and yawned again.

 

"Bed," Eric ordered with a smile as he wrapped his own towel around his waist.  Reaching out, he pulled his partner in closer to him.  "I love you," he said simply. 

 

The other man hugged him back, leaning down slightly and burrowing his face into his neck, "I love you too."

 

Reaching down, he gently caressed his partner's butt for several moments before reluctantly letting him go.   He eyed John's naked body for a moment and nodded his head. "Go on," he said firmly.  "Like that."

 

"Eric," he said, making a face, "Aren't you worried I'll get cold or something."

 

"No you won't, I'll keep you warm.  Promise.  I want to be able to touch you and pet you and I want you to feel my hand on your skin, not have that separated by cloth."

 

Blushing slightly, he hurriedly dried off and then quickly fled the bathroom.

 

Eric chuckled to himself at his partner's reaction while he finished drying himself and hung up his towel on the bar opposite John's.   Flipping off the lights as he made his way to the bed, he sighed as he slipped between the soft, warm flannel.  "I love these sheets," he said, moving slightly against the material and enjoying the feel of it against his skin.  Rolling over onto his side, he curled up against his Brat who was lying on his stomach and began to gently rub his back, "Talk to me babe."

 

"I like these sheets too," he said softly in the dim light of Eric's bedside lamp, not looking at the Top.  "I remember that little store up in Boston where we got them."  He chuckled, relaxing slightly under his lover's hand, "You had the hardest time deciding which ones you wanted."  Sighing slightly, his breath caught in his throat and the last part of the sigh came out as a slight sob.

 

"It's OK," the Top said, kissing the back of his neck, "we talked about this, remember?"  Gently moving closer, careful not to press too hard against the sore flesh, he continued.  "You can cry, you can sob, you can wail, gnash your teeth…." 

 

John laughed, saying, "Oh yeah, that screams Man.  Gnashing of teeth and wailing like a banshee."

 

"Well, I didn't say banshee," he said, kissing the other man again.  "But like someone who has been punished and who hurts and who is allowed to express all the emotions and feelings that go along with that."  He slid his hand down his lover's back and patted his bare butt, "Who is in charge of this relationship?"

 

"You."

 

The Top patted him again, "So what does that mean?"

 

John squirmed slightly under his Top's touch and then chuckled, "Gee, Eric, it means so many things."

 

Kissing him again and adding a light bite to the exposed shoulder that was quickly kissed again, he said, "Brat.  I was thinking along the lines that I say what is and is not acceptable behavior in this house and in our relationship."

 

"Yeah," he agreed quietly.

 

"So if I say it's OK to cry and sob and even wail like a banshee, what does that mean?"

 

The Brat pulled away slightly and then rolled over so he was facing his lover, "That it's ok to wail like a banshee."

 

Eric kissed him, reaching out and caressing the few tear streaks on the other man's face, "Or just to cry."

 

Ducking his head, he mumbled, "Yeah."

 

 

 

The sun shone brightly through the slightly opened blinds that covered the windows the next morning as Eric slowly awoke.  Blinking and trying to focus on the clock on John's night table, he finally read the time at just after seven.  Flopping back down, he glanced over at his still sleeping lover.  Sometime in the night, the other man had rolled out of their embrace and was now fast asleep on his back, legs slightly spread with one foot free from the sheets and hanging off the mattress.  Carefully easing out of bed, he padded into the bathroom and relieved himself, giving his hands a quick wash before returning.

 

"It's too bright, close the blinds," John said, eyes still closed.

 

Sliding back under the covers, the Top chuckled, "Nope, I like them open, the better to see you with."

 

"Then Grandma, I think you need to get better eyes and then we can close the damn blinds."

 

"Have you been up long," Eric asked, ignoring his partner's mood.

 

The Brat rolled over on his side so he was facing the other man and shrugged, "I don't know.  I woke up around five, I think and got some water and went to the bathroom.  I tried not to wake you up."

 

He shook his head, "I didn't hear a thing."

 

John smiled, "That's because I was very quiet."  He glanced down at the sheets, the bright multi colored stripes seemed in stark contrast to the chilly January morning outside.  "I was thinking this morning,"

 

Sensing the change in mood, Eric reached out and took hold of his Brat's hand, "About what?"

 

"I don't know, a lot of stuff, some about you and me and our relationship and some about my parents tomorrow.  What they'll think when they see us together, maybe we shouldn't go.  Just put it off for awhile."

 

Still holding his hand, Eric gave it a small squeeze, "First off, Kiwi, they know you're gay and they know we're together.  They've seen pictures."  He ignored his own internal fears and tried to sound confident.  "It might be a bit of a shock at first but they'll be fine.  And it's important we go, your mom really wants to see you and both of your brothers are going to be there with their wives.  Big family get together, what can be more fun?"

 

John laughed, "Depends, maybe root canal?"  He turned serious again, "Make love to me, I need you to fuck me."

 

Stunned for a moment by the sudden turn of conversation, Eric paused.  "Ok, babe but you've got to promise never to say fuck me or make love to me or …. anything like that, again, right after anything to do with your parents.  Just totally throws me."

 

The Brat blushed, "Yeah, I probably could have put that better or maybe led up to it a bit more."

 

"Yeah, it was a bit sudden," he agreed, winking at his partner.  "Do you need me to?"

 

John blushed deeper and nodded, "Please."

 

Leaning in closer, the Top kissed him softly on the lips, stroking his hair and whispered, "You know you don't have to prove anything, right?"

 

The other man nodded, kissing him back, "I just need it for me."

 

"Ok, babe but even if we didn't make love right now, I've never seen you as a child.  I've never seen you as anything less than my lover, than the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.  Spanking you, paddling you, no amount or sort of discipline will change that," Eric said, giving the same sort of talk and pledge he had since the beginning. 

 

The Brat nodded, dropping his eyes, unable to meet his Top's gaze.

 

He kissed him again, one hand stroking John's hair and neck, while the other went between them, gently petting John's limp cock.  It had been a need of his Brat's since the beginning.  While the need for physical and absolute proof that he was still seen as an equal and an adult had diminished as their relationship progressed, it was still a need that returned when he was feeling most uncomfortable and insecure. 

 

The other man sighed slightly as he relaxed into his lover's touch and turned his head, exposing his neck for attention. 

 

Releasing John's dark hair, the Top rolled over on him more, his other hand also free and helping to support his weight off of his lover.  "You taste like toothpaste," he said softly, grinning, as he pulled free from the kiss and looked down at him.

 

"That's because I knew we'd be doing this."  He smacked his lips and laughed,  "Too bad you didn't."

 

Eric raised an eyebrow and stilled the knee that was between his Brat's legs, spreading them.  "You want me to stop and go brush?"

 

"No."

 

"Good," he said leaning down and kissing him again.  "Spread your legs for me, babe," he ordered a moment later, pulling back and reaching for the small bottle of lube that was on the night table.  Pouring out a small amount, he moved off the other man and quickly spread it on his hardening cock.  "Spread them wide, hold yourself open for me," he ordered in a soft but deliberate voice. 

 

John obeyed the order with a small smile that quickly faded as he grew still, his own cock still only half hard and his body tense.  "Please, Eric," he said softly, his eyes closed and his legs trembling slightly.

 

Settling between the spread and raised legs, the Top leaned down and kissed him again, one hand on the mattress for support, while the other stroked one the trembling legs.  "You look so amazing, babe," he whispered between kisses.  "Strong and handsome and you make me feel like the luckiest man alive that you've given yourself to me."  Moving the hand from the leg and using it to further support his weight, Eric moved again, lining his hard cock up against his partner's opening.  "Relax babe," he ordered as he slowly pushed the head inside the tight opening.  After a moment of resistance, he felt it slide in.  Pushing in a bit more, he paused, leaning low again to kiss John.  "Who do you belong to?"

 

"Take me," he said hoarsely, his eyes still closed.  He groaned slightly as Eric pulled almost completely out before sinking back in an inch.  "You, I belong to you."

 

"Yes, you do," the Top said, kissing him again and pushing in almost the entire way.  "And who do I belong to?"

 

Knowing the answer to this often asked question, John smiled, "Me."

 

"You're so smart," Eric said with a chuckle as he thrust the rest of the way inside his lover.  Resting a moment, feeling John shake slightly under him, he slowly pulled half way out before fully seating himself again inside. 

 

Four more similar thrusts caused John to cry out as his hands released their hold on his legs and wrapped themselves around the Top's waist.  "God Eric, faster," he ordered.

 

Pulling out almost completely, the blond man gave a low chuckle, "Getting toppy with me, babe?  I give the orders in this relationship."  Thrusting in again, he was rewarded by his partner's moan of pleasure as he brushed past his prostate again.  Picking up the speed of his thrusts, Eric felt his balls tightening a few moments later and pushed fully inside, his mouth capturing John's and kissing him hard as he came deep into the other man.  Arms trembling, he slowly pulled out a few moments later and collapsed back on the mattress, quickly rolling to his side so he was facing his partner.  "You OK?" he asked softly, reaching out and resting his hand on the other man's still soft cock.

 

"Very," John said with a yawn, rolling onto his side too.  He shifted slightly, wincing with a small smile.  "God, I can still feel you."  He closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh, "It feels good."

 

"Roll over on your other side," he ordered softly.  "I think we both could do with another hour or so."

 

Rolling over, John said, yawning again, "So why can't I face you?"

 

Moving over so he was laying almost on top of his lover again, Eric kissed his neck, "Because then I couldn't do this."  He patted the bare butt, "Or keep my hand on this."  Then, moving his cock against the skin, added, "Or take you again."

 

"You're all talk," the Brat said with a tired chuckle.

 

"Are you still feeling less than my lover?"  he asked softly, stilling himself and holding his partner close.  "I don't fuck children, babe.  Or anyone I see as remotely childish."

 

"I know," he said softly.

 

"Know logically or know in your soul?" Eric asked gently, kissing him again.  "Or do you need to be pounded into the mattress again?  Used for my benefit and pleasure?  Owned and possessed by me?  Feel my thick, heavy cock deep…."

 

John laughed, "You are so full of yourself.  But I do feel better, more like your lover and less like a naughty child whose daddy had to spank him."

 

Kissing him again, Eric settled back, resting his head on his lover's back.  "Good."

 

"But that doesn't mean, that tonight when my butt isn't hurting so much from your wicked arm, I don't want to maybe feel your thick, heavy cock …" The rest of his words were cut off as Eric lunged up and covered his mouth with his own, kissing him hard.

 

"Hush Brat," the Top ordered with a smile a moment later when he finally released the mouth.

 

 

 

Flipping the pancake over on the griddle the next morning, John glanced up as Eric padded into the kitchen.  "Hi, hon. I'm making pancakes."

 

Eric walked over, wrapping his arms around his lover and kissed him, peering over his shoulder.  "I see.  It looks good."  Releasing him and walking over to the fridge, he opened it and extracted the carton of orange juice.  He held it up, "Want some?"

 

"Nope," the Brat said cheerfully.  "I'm good."  He flipped another pancake before scooping up a different one and placing it on a plate being kept warm in the oven.  "Almost done, if you want to set the table."

 

Eric laughed, "You're in good mood this morning.  Feeling better about seeing the parents today?"

 

"Yeah, I woke up this morning actually looking forward to it.  We're in a good relationship, we love each other and they've always said all they wanted from us kids was for us to be happy and loved.  I'm both," he said, glancing behind him and grinning.  "Right?"

 

The Top laughed again, putting the butter dish and silverware on the table.  "Yes, you are very loved and you're right, we're in a great relationship."  He paused, walking over to the stove, saying cautiously, "It might just take them a bit of time to see that.  OK?  I don't want you to be hurt if your parents don't immediately embrace me - us."

 

"Oh, I know," John said, flipping off the stove and removing the plates from the oven with hot pads.  Putting the final two pancakes on the plates, he smiled, "Seriously Eric, I do.  And I'm not expecting it overnight.  But I bet by the end of dinner tonight, it'll be just like when Jason and Andrew brought their wives over."  He put the plates on the table while his partner got the sausage off the stove and began to dish out the links.  "Trust me, it'll be fine."

 

The Top leaned over and kissed him, "I know it'll be fine, Kiwi.  You know me, I just worry and don't have much parental experience."

 

"Right," he agreed, repeating softly, almost to himself, "it'll be fine.  They accepted Molly and Carolyn, they'll accept you."

 

Pretending not to hear the quiet pep talk or the slight tone of fake bravado, Eric sat down and smiled.  "This looks great.  The perfect way to start a long weekend."

 

 

 

Two hours later, Eric carried their shared duffle bag out to the garage and the waiting cars where John was flipping through both sets of CDs.  "About ready?"

 

"Yeah, I was just getting us some music to listen to," the Brat said grabbing the small pile of discs and putting them into a carrying case.  "We're taking my car, right?"

 

Eric nodded, "I thought so.  It's safer and more comfortable."  Opening the back door, he laid the bag on the back seat, saying, "I think that's it.  Everything is locked up and the lights are set.  Do you need anything else?"

 

"Nope, I'm ready," the other man said, opening up the passenger door and sliding in, attaching the CD holder to his visor a moment later.  "Let's get this party started."

 

The Top laughed, "And what a great party it's going to be."  He slide into the driver's seat and adjusted it slightly to his positions before turning the key and backing out of the garage.   "Hit it, Scotty," he said as they pulled out of the driveway.

 

John laughed, hitting the garage door opener to close the door.  "And we're off," he said as the car moved forward.

 

"Boldly going where no man …"

 

"Or at least no gay man," John corrected.

 

"Has gone before … home … to Charleston," Eric continued in a deep fake voice.  "Cradle of southern charm and good Christian values, birthplace of genteel women, manly men, the civil war and the KKK."

 

The Brat laughed again, "The Klan did not start in Charleston.  I think that was here in Georgia, actually."

 

Eric shrugged, undaunted by the correction and continued his monologue, "And most importantly, home to Mr. and Mrs. McAllister, parents of at least one extraordinary son."

 

"And Porgy and Bess," John said, smiling and shaking his head at his lover's antics.  "And the unending love of Annabel Lee."

 

"Annabel Lee?"

 

"You know," the Brat said, "'It was many and many a year ago,  In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know;  By the name of Annabel Lee.'  Poe."

 

The Top shook his head, "I see that English degree wasn't totally wasted.  And this matters because?"

 

John sighed, "I was trying to make the connection of great romances and us.  Charleston is the home of great romances."

 

"Annabel Lee died and I think so did Porgy," the blond man said matter of factly, struggling to keep a straight face.  "Or was it Bess?"

 

The Brat glared at him, "That's not the point, Eric."

 

Glancing at him, he smiled and blew a kiss, "You're so easy, Kiwi."

 

Sticking out his tongue, "Only with you, hon."

 

Eric raised an eyebrow, "I'd hope so and I hope you're not sticking that out at anyone else."  Unable to keep the deadpan up any longer, he laughed and grinned at him.  "You're right.  Charleston is a romantic city and it'll embrace our love."

 

"Nope, too late," John said, crossing his arms and staring out at the road.  "I tried to make an important point and you made fun of me.  No sense trying to make it up to me now."  Lacking his Top's ability, John's face cracked into a smile a moment later and he stole a glance in the direction of the driver's side, judging Eric's response.

 

"Brat," Eric said with a laugh and shaking his head.  "Make yourself useful and put in a CD, please."

 

"Top," he shot back, smiling, reaching up and selecting a CD.  A minute later, the sounds of Billy Joel filled the car as he reached over and squeezed his partner's hand resting on the steering wheel.  "It'll really be OK, right?" he asked softly. 

 

"It'll be perfect," Eric said firmly, glancing over with a smile.  "Trust me, it'll be good and everything will go all right."

 

 

 

"Exit here," John instructed as the car entered the Charleston area on the interstate.  Pointing to the main exit for downtown Charleston, he smiled.  "Last chance to bail, hon. We could check into one of the nice hotels downtown and just spend the long weekend walking around and playing tourist."

 

The Top shook his head, turning on the signal and exiting onto the ramp.  "Nope, it's going to be fine.  We're going to have a good weekend and I'm looking forward to meeting your parents.  Plus," he said, glancing over again, "I expect to play tourist a bit while we're visiting.  You can show me around and I can see where little Johnny grew up."

 

Fifteen minutes and several turns later, the silver Camry cruised through the town, with John pointing out various sights and landmarks.  "You just crossed the most important street in Charleston," he said with a chuckle.

 

"Really?  Why?"

 

Pointing at another small street coming up for his partner to turn on, the Brat continued, "That was Broad.  We're now south of Broad, which is a very important thing.  It's really the social and economic dividing line of the city.  Historically and still is today.  It's used as a reference point to your social standing, expectations on you, your family history; money won't buy you any house south of Broad.  It's more about you than the size of your bank account."

 

"Alrighty then," Eric said with a laugh. 

 

Another quick turn brought them to a closed gate in a high brick wall.  "I'll get it," John said, getting out and unlatching the gate, swinging the wide wooden gate open to allow the car to drive down the brick and cobblestone driveway into the courtyard.  The car paused, just inside the gate while the Brat reclosed it and then got back inside.  "Home sweet home," he said as the car moved forward, parking behind two SUVs.  "I see that Jason and Andrew are here already. That's what my parents bought them both for wedding presents."  He rolled his eyes and smiled; glancing at Eric, "Keep that in mind please when we go car shopping for me next year.  I gave up a brand new SUV for you."

 

Eric's attention had been caught by the waves from the small crowd sitting on the piazza running the length of the house.  He gave a small wave and smile, saying, "We've been spotted, Kiwi."

 

Jumping out of the car before it was shut off, John called out with a wave, "Hi!  We're here, finally.  Let the party begin."

 

The Top shut the car off and more slowly got out of the car, opening the back door for their bag while watching the group of four descend down a flight of stairs from the porch to the driveway.  Pulling the bag out, he set it by the car and made his way over to the noisy bunch. Eyeing the two couples, he smiled at the warm reception and how John's two brothers looked so much like him with the same coloring, mannerisms and laugh. Their wives hung back slightly, but more in an effort to avoid being trampled by their husbands than with any concerns or disapproval.

 

John glanced over at him, smiling broadly and held out his hand for the Top to come closer.  When he was standing beside him, he gripped his hand tightly and turned back to the group, "Everyone, please allow me to introduce you to Eric Coben, my partner." He turned to his Top, smiling, "Eric, allow me to introduce you to my brothers and sisters in law, Jason, the oldest, and Molly and Andrew, the baby of the family, and Carolyn."  He pointed to each couple as he named them.  "They all live near here in Charleston."

 

The other man smiled, holding out his hand to the closest brother, "It's nice to finally meet you, Jason.  John's told me a lot about you."

 

The oldest brother smiled, taking Eric's hand as he said, "It's nice to finally get a chance to meet you too.  We're glad that Johnny's finally settled down with someone who makes him so happy."  He rolled his eyes at his brother, adding, "And finally got up the nerve to bring you home to meet us. Don't believe all the stories Johnny's told about me, I only harassed him nonstop until Andy came along and then I made sure to split the harassment up evenly."

 

"Hey," John said, starting to protest but quickly stopped as he glanced toward the house.  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he smiled again, saying in a quiet voice, "Hello Mother, Father."

 

Hearing the strained sound of his partner's voice, Eric turned from greeting Carolyn and saw the older couple carefully making their way down the center steps toward their children.  John's mother was beautifully dressed in a gray and black suit with a string of pearls and matching heels, being escorted as if she were made of glass on the arm of her husband, who was dressed in perfectly pressed tan slacks, white button down shirt and navy blue cardigan.  Feeling suddenly underdressed in his jeans and Vanderbilt sweatshirt, he stole a glance around him and was relieved to see that everyone else was dressed as casually as they were.

 

The older women smiled at her son, holding out her hand, "John, it's so good to see you again dear.  It's been far, far too long.  We were all so disappointed you couldn't join us a few weeks ago for Christmas."  She pecked him quickly on the cheek and smiled again.  "We've missed you."

 

"It's good to see you too, Mother.  I'm sorry I haven't visited more."  He turned to his father, holding out his hand, "Sir, it's good to see you again too."

 

Mr. McAllister released his wife's arm and shook hands with a firm nod, "Good to see you, boy.  You're looking fit."  His eyes darted over to Eric for a second as his smile faltered a bit before refocusing on his son, saying, "City life seems to agree with you."

 

John nodded, "Yes, sir, it does."  Then, turning slightly, he waved his partner forward, "Mother, Father, allow me to introduce my … partner Eric Coben."

 

Eric came forward, well aware that the younger couples had grown silent, watching the McAllisters.  "Mr. and Mrs. McAllister," he said, giving them both his best smile, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you.  John's such a wonderful man, you must be very proud of how you've raised him and how he's turned out." 

 

Mrs. McAllister gave him a small smile and shook his hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Eric. I've been looking forward to this all week."  She glanced at her husband and continued, "And we are all very proud of John and only hope that he can continue to live up to the family name."  Turning to her husband, she gave his arm a small squeeze, "Isn't that right, dear?"

 

The older man locked eyes with his son while answering his wife, "Yes Mary Alice, even though fifteen years ago, deciding to become a homosexual wouldn't be something to be so proud of and open about."  He gave a tight smile that did not reach his eyes and continued, "I guess that's what you young folks call progress."  He glanced at Eric and looked him up and down quickly and then shrugged, turning back to John and saying, "At least you're still the man of the household.  Welcome home and I hope we can all have a pleasant weekend together."  Pulling his arm free of his wife's grasp, he glanced at Eric again, adding, "A discreet weekend.  Now, if you all will excuse me, I'll let Polly know we're all here and she can put out some snacks on the piazza."

 

Feeling the flush rise in his face, Eric bit his tongue and glanced at his partner standing next to him.  When Mrs. McAllister turned to watch her husband go back toward the house, he whispered quietly, "You OK?"

 

John nodded, his smile now seemingly plastered on his face.  "Mother," he said when she had turned her attention back to the group, "where have you arranged for Eric and I to sleep?"  Seeing her blanch, he blushed, quickly saying, "Stay.  Where are Eric and I staying?"

 

Recovering her composure, she smiled at her son, glancing quickly at Eric, saying, "I thought it'd be best if you stayed in the guest rooms over the carriage house.  There's plenty of privacy and you don't have to share a bathroom."  She waved at the two younger couples still silently watching the action, "Your brothers have the two large guest rooms in the main house but if you'd prefer, you're of course welcome to stay in the small guestroom."

 

"I don't think a twin bed is going to work for me now, Mother," John said with a laugh and then quickly blushed, shaking his head slightly.  "Over the garage will be perfect, thank you, ma'am."

 

"Good," she said with a smile, her own face having gone pale at her son's words.  "Polly cleaned and made up the rooms this morning.  I'll leave you…. you two .." she stumbled over the words before catching herself and putting on a fake smile similar to her son's, "to get settled in then.  Come over to the porch and we'll have drinks and catch up when you're done.  I thought we'd have an early dinner tonight since I'm sure everyone is tired from a long week and the men…" she stumbled again, glancing at Eric before continuing, "and some of the men are going to be up early tomorrow morning to go hunting."  Turning gracefully, she quickly walked up the path toward the porch, her heels sounding slightly hollow on the brick with the sound being absorbed by the lush plants and flowers filling the courtyard.

 

Jason watched until she was out of earshot and then shook his head, turning to his brother.  "Way to go, bro.   You've managed to make Charleston's most polished hostess lose her composure and I thought Dad was going to blow a vein."

 

The middle brother sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, "Way to make me feel better, Jason."  Then, turning to Eric, he smiled, "Ready to run yet?"

 

Carolyn laughed from behind her husband, "Don't worry about it, I remember how your mother was the first time she met me."  She gave another laugh, shaking her head, "It wasn't quite this bad but I was living, breathing proof that her baby boy was all grown up and leaving the nest.  She'll probably have a stroke when I get pregnant because it will be proof we've done the deed."

 

"How long did it take for them to warm up to you?" Eric asked with a smile.

 

Molly answered laughing, sharing a look with her sister in law.  "To give you a hint, Eric, we both still call our mother-in-law Mrs. McAllister."

 

John laughed along with everyone else for a minute before turning to Eric, "Ready to go unpack and then face the fun of drinks on the veranda?"

 

"As long as the drinks are strong," Eric said with a smile, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.  Walking back to the car together, he picked up their bag and glanced over his shoulder at the two couples.  The warmth and acceptance he had felt faded slightly as he saw them exchange looks and saw Jason mutter something quietly to Andrew.  Pushing the feeling out of his head, he focused on John and following him up the long flight of stairs on the outside of the small brick building.  "Don't go looking for problems," he muttered to himself.

 

Pushing open the door, John glanced behind him and smiled, "Trust me, this is much better than staying in the house."

 

He laughed, "I have to tell you, when your mom said that it would be more comfortable if we stayed in here, I wasn't sure if she meant more comfortable for us or for them."  He glanced around the large, spacious room, "This is great.  I had no idea, this doesn't look like anything from the outside."  Dropping the bag on one of the chairs arranged in a sitting area around an entertainment center, he made his way across the room to the large bed pushed against the far wall.  He sat down and bounced slightly and smiled.  "This is really great, John.  I don't care if being here is for our benefit or theirs."

 

John laughed, opening the small fridge in the kitchen area and pulling out a bottle of chilled water.  He glanced around as he opened it, taking a swig, "Yeah, it's a really nice apartment.  Both Jas and Andy lived up here when they graduated from college but before they officially moved out." He walked over to where his lover sat and held out the bottle, "Want some?"

 

"Thanks," the other man said, reaching out and taking the bottle.  He took a long sip and then sighed, closing his eyes and stretching his shoulders, rolling them in circles.

 

He watched his lover for a moment then said, "Tired? Stressed? Upset? Angry?" Then, adding quietly, "Any of them at me?"

 

Opening his eyes, Eric smiled, leaning over and putting the bottle down on the night table and then held out his hand, "Come here Kiwi."  He kicked off his shoes and then swung his feet up on the bed, lying down, stretching out on top of the solid cream-colored comforter.  He held out his hand, repeating, "Come here, please.  I'm a little tired but not upset or angry and definitely not at you."  He closed his eyes again, hand motioning again, "Lying here for a few minutes just sounds nice."

 

John watched him, frowning slightly and not making any move to lie down, "I'm sorry I made you come.  It was really inconsiderate of me, I wasn't thinking.  You just got back from a trip and I know it took …."

 

"Hey," Eric said sharply, cutting off his lover's words. He quickly sat up, swinging his feet back on the floor; then after reaching out and tugging his Brat close, he swatted him hard across the butt.  "That's not what I was saying, that's not what I was feeling and you know it," he said gently, rubbing the area he had just swatted.  "Now," his voice growing firm again, his hand stilling, "kick off your shoes, take off your jeans and come lie down with me for a few minutes.  It'll do us both good."  He raised an eyebrow at John, "Do I need to tell you a fourth time?"

 

Shaking his head, the Brat toed off his shoes, kicking them toward the dresser and then unbuttoned his jeans.  "Why do I need to take these off?  You still have yours on," he asked even as he was slipping them off and folding them over the arm of a dark blue chair.

 

"Because I'm the Top and you’re the Brat and I'm telling you to." Eric said firmly. Considering the discussion over and confident that his Brat saw it the same way, he returned to his reclining position on the bed.

 

After making sure his lover's eyes were shut again, John stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes, before pulling off his socks.

 

"If you keep making faces like that, they're going to stick one of these days," the Top said in a dry, humorless voice.  He then laughed, breaking the slight tension in the room, glancing over at his lover as he opened his eyes and winked.  "I know you too well, Kiwi."

 

The Brat laughed too, making his way over to the bed, lying down next to him with a sigh.  He stretched and rolled his shoulders against the cool material, taking another deep breath, saying softly, "You're right, this feels good."

 

"Roll over onto your stomach," Eric said a few minutes later after watching the other man twitch and squirm restlessly, rolling over onto his side so he could look at his partner.

 

John smiled, rolling over so he was facing the wall and stretched again with a sigh  "Yes," he breathed out softly as Eric rolled over more so he was lying half on top of him, pinning him to the bed, acutely aware of his state of undressed compared to his Top's.

 

Resting his head on his lover's back, the Top closed his eyes, his right hand resting fully on John's butt.  Gently spreading the other man's legs slightly, he pushed his own knee between them, holding them open a bit.  "Relax babe," he said softly, patting the butt under his hand.  "I've got you."  He kissed his lover's back, smiling to himself as he felt the body under his relax, just like it always did, as it gave up control, allowing him to stop worrying about expectations, by concentrating only on obeying.

 

Squirming slightly under the comforting weight of his lover, John sighed again, his body relaxing further into the soft down comforter.  "Did you see how badly I handled that with my mom?" he asked softly.  "Could I have thrown our relationship in her face any more?"

 

"I don't think you did anything wrong, babe.  There's nothing wrong with asking where you're going to sleep, it's a normal question when you come to stay with someone for a few nights.  There's nothing wrong with saying you need more than a twin bed, Andrew or Jason would have said the same thing."  He paused, searching for the right words, "I think you handled it perfectly, wonderfully.  You didn't throw me down on the bricks and beg me to take you right there…."  His joke was rewarded with a small laugh and he responded by kissing the back his head was resting on again, before continuing, "We didn't have the Village People or Judy Garland blaring from the car decorated with rainbow and pink triangles.."

 

"Yeah," John said, agreeing with a smile.  "We pulled up in a very boring silver Toyota without a single decal." 

 

"I bet we were quite the disappointment."

 

The Brat laughed again before turning serious, "Did my father's comments bother you?"

 

Eric thought about it for a minute, trying to decide how to handle the situation, before answering, "Which ones, Kiwi? About you being the Man of the relationship?"  He felt John nod beneath him in confirmation.  "No babe, not a bit," he said, only slightly lying.  "You're almost two inches taller than me and weigh … about fifteen pounds more.  One look at you and people can tell you play sports, you just have that rugged manly-man air about you."  He laughed, kissing his lover's back again, then tickled his side, sending John into immediate and very unmanly giggles.  "I run and play tennis and while I may have my mom's coloring, I have my dad's build and the French are not known for their manly-men."  He laughed again, rolling off his lover and then settling himself on the bed so they faced each other before continuing, "I know that anyone just looking at us, looking to pigeon hole us into heterosexual labels is going to label you the Man and me the Woman and that's their problem, not ours.  We're two men, regardless of actions or looks or behavior.  Yes?"

 

John glanced down at the cream colored comforter for a moment, thinking back to the emotional conversations and earnest and frank discussions that had taken place between them, during those rough few months, just before he and Eric had moved in together.  He looked up, meeting his partner's eyes with a smile, then leaned forward a bit and kissed him. "Right," he whispered softly, closing his eyes as Eric moved forward, claiming his mouth as his own.

 

"We need to stop, Kiwi," the Top said breathlessly, a minute later.  Pulling away, he looked down at his lover.  His cock was rapidly getting hard and he could feel John's similar reaction against the thigh that rested between his spread bare legs.  "They're going to be expecting us and we've already taken as long as we should."  He ran a hand down his lover's leg, feeling the skin twitch under his touch and then with a sigh, rolled off him and sat up. 

 

"It's your own fault," the other man said, also sitting up and sliding off the bed.  He glanced back at his lover and grinned.

 

"And how is it my fault?  You're the one that's too cute too resist with those 'Fuck Me Now' eyes and that body that makes me hard just watching you."

 

John rolled his eyes, "I could say the same thing, hon. But what I really meant was that you're the one who insisted I take off my jeans.  It's amazing what kind of damper an extra layer of cloth can have."

 

Getting up off the bed and heading to the bag for a brush, Eric laughed, "If you had done like I had told you to the first time, I wouldn't have felt the need to remind you of your place in this relationship."  He retrieved the brush and passed it through his hair a couple of times to get rid of the tussled bed-head he seemed to get as soon as he lay down then gave it to the other man.  "Here, you're a bit rumpled.  Don't want anyone getting any ideas."  After the brush was tossed back into the open bag, he pulled his Brat close to him, hands resting on the now jean covered butt.  "You also seemed a bit stressed and at loose ends."

 

John knew exactly what he was talking about and nodded, hugging him close.  "Yeah and I need you to be like that, to put me back in my place when I'm unsure."

 

"I know," the other man said, kissing him, before pulling away and giving his butt a gentle pat, said, "Come on Kiwi, let's go catch up with your family."

 

 

 

"So where is your family from, Eric?" Mrs. McAllister asked with a pleasant smile, glancing up at him from her drink.  "You don't have much of an accent."

 

Eric hastily swallowed the cheese straw he had taken a bite of, the sharp tang of cheddar filling his mouth, and looked around the piazza at the rest of the group, all watching.  "No ma'am," he said with a smile.  "I don't.  I was born in California but moved to DC when I was about six months old and then my parents moved around Europe every couple of years until I was seventeen."

 

"Was your father in the military then?" Mr. McAllister asked, respect for the military and its officers clear in his voice.  "I served my time, of course, and would have loved to make it a career, but family duties didn't allow for it.  It's a noble calling."

 

Hating to break the small, fragile thread of respect the patriarch seemed to be forming for him, Eric shook his head, "No, I'm sorry, he and my mother were both art historians and experts at restoration."

 

"Oh," the older man said, sitting back in his chair, the interest fading from his eyes.  "I'm sure that's important work."

 

Plunging ahead as if not noticing the dismissive tone, he continued.  "They specialized in religious works of art, restoration mainly and worked in conjunction with the Smithsonian and their experts in that field.  There was so much restoration going on in the 70s and 80s, still restoring things damaged during the war or trying to fix badly done restorations or just regular maintenance restoration that needs to be done on an ongoing basis."

 

"That sounds so amazing," Molly, Andrew's wife, said from her seat on the porch swing.  "Did they have to live in Europe to do that?  I look around here and even in Charleston; there are plenty of churches that have major works of art.  Could they have stayed here in America if they wanted?"  She took a sip of her cold drink and smiled, glancing at John, sitting next to Eric, "But I can certainly understand the appeal of leaving home and striking out on your own." 

 

Mrs. McAllister smiled at Eric, "It does sound like an interesting life.  They weren't interested in working here?"

 

"Eric's parents were both originally from Europe, Mother," John said, jumping into the conversation. 

 

Eric smiled and nodded, "They both came to America as children, as part of the different refugee programs that helped orphans or children who had been abandoned during World War II.  My mother was originally from Denmark and my father was French."  He glanced at Mr. McAllister, adding, "They were very proud and felt honored to have been among the lucky ones to come to the States.  I think they felt the pull of Europe more as a search for their family histories than any desire to live there again."

 

"And where do they live now?" Jason asked.

 

Eric gave a small smile, "Unfortunately, they were both killed in a plane crash when I was 17.  I was still in school and they were taking a short vacation together to Greece when their plane went down.  I finished school and then moved back to the States, the Los Angeles area, where two of my mother's adopted sisters lived."

 

"Well," Mrs. McAllister said, taking a sip of her drink, "I'm sure they were wonderful people and I'm sorry to not have the chance to meet them."

 

Eager to have the spotlight off him, Eric gave her a small smile, hoping that she was beginning to warm to him, "The lack of family history I have, lack of roots, makes John's family history so interesting and amazing to me."  He looked at the group, including them all in the question, "Have your families always lived in this area?"  He took a sip of his own drink and then popped a small quiche in his mouth while Mrs. McAllister began to explain the tangled limbs of their family tree.  A light touch on his foot made him glance down, seeing John's sneaker pressed up against his.  Looking at his partner, he smiled as the other man gave him an approving nod and small wink.

 

An hour later, John drained his drink, putting the glass back on the serving tray and glanced around the group, who had moved on to recapping the recent bowl games.  "If none of you mind and would excuse us, I think I'm going to go play tour guide for Eric.  Show him a bit of Charleston before it gets too dark and close to dinner."

 

"No, not at all," Mrs. McAllister said, standing up herself.  "I think I'll go into the house myself.  All this football talk is enough to bore me and I'm sure that Polly could use an extra pair of hands with dinner."  She glanced over at her daughters-in-law. "Girls, would you like to help me?  I'm sure you find this topic as boring as I do."

 

The two younger women stood up,  Carolyn saying, "Of course.  Men and their sports, I think they can talk for hours about games that have been over for weeks.  We'll just leave you men folk here to drink and talk alone while us women folk go and slave away in the kitchen."

 

Andrew stood up, kissing his wife sweetly on the check and giving her a discreet pat on the butt, "Thank you, dear."  He then winked at her, taking her hands and kissing them, "But be sure not to work these too hard.  I might have use for them later tonight."

 

She laughed, blushing and pulled her hands free, "You might, huh?"

 

Eric stood up too as the three women made their way across the porch and back into the house, watching John chat briefly with his mother. 

 

"You're welcome to go help the women in the kitchen, if you'd rather." Mr. McAllister said, taking a swig of his drink as he looked at Eric.  "Leave my son here with me and his brothers to talk."

 

"No Father," John said, coming up before his lover could answer, "Eric doesn't need or want to go help anyone in the kitchen.  He and I are going to take a walk around town so I can show him around.  He's never been here before and we're going to go play tourist for a few hours."  He took a deep breath and then added, "It's no different than when Andrew brought Carolyn here for the first time several years ago except then you and mother were happy to play tour guide."  Catching Eric's eye, he motioned toward the stairs, "We'll be home in time for dinner and we can talk some more then." 

 

The older man took another swig, saying, "Be discreet, please.  There are a lot of people who still know you around this town."

 

Taking his cue from his partner, Eric said nothing about the comment and hurried down the stairs into the enclosed courtyard.  It wasn't until they were through the brick wall surrounding the property and onto the sidewalk that he reached out and touched John's arm.  "Hey, stop for a moment.  You OK? I thought it went well."

 

John stopped and looked at his partner, raising his eyebrow slightly, "Really?"

 

The Top laughed and raised his own eyebrow, wiggling it and causing his partner to laugh before he smiled, saying, "Yeah, really."  He shrugged, "It could have been better, a couple comments that didn't need to be said, but at the same time, it could have been a lot worse."  He touched his arm again, "Come on Kiwi, you knew that it'd take a little time and it's been good.  We had a nice chat this afternoon and we'll do it again at dinner."  His voice was calm and sure as he continued, "Your father's few comments didn't bother me at all and they shouldn't bother you.  He's just trying to make us fit the definitions that have fit every other relationship he's known."

 

"You think he'd stroke out if I told him I did almost all the cooking for us?" John asked with a smile.  "And love doing it?"

 

Eric pretended to consider for a minute and then nodded, "'Fraid so, I think it would pretty much shatter the image he has of you into a million pieces." 

 

"Damn, if cooking would do it, what do you think would happen if he knew everything else about our relationship and who does what to whom."

 

"Let's not even think about that." Eric bumped him gently with his shoulder, "Come on, come show me around this town of yours.  You know us gay guys, can't resist old churches, old houses and all the pretty flowers. "

 

John laughed, "It's January honey, no flowers but I'm sure I can find plenty of things you'll like anyway."  He laughed and jerked away, dancing down the sidewalk a few steps as Eric's hand brushed against his butt.  "Besides that," he said.  Shaking his head, he laughed again, "And here I was thinking that I was the Brat in the relationship."

 

 

 

Making their way up the sidewalk two hours later, John paused as Eric pushed the gate to the courtyard open, staring up at the house.  The lights blazed through the dusky light from the main floor and several of the rooms in the upper floor were also lit, the light spilling out onto the two piazzas and into the courtyard below. 

 

"What's wrong," Eric asked, glancing back at his unmoving partner.  He shifted the small bag of pralines they had purchased to his other hand holding open the gate and held out his left hand.  "John, come on, it's chilly and getting dark."

 

He moved slowly, taking Eric's hand, allowing himself to be guided through the gate.  "Do you think it's possible to love something and also to hate it?"

 

Unsure if he was talking about the house or his family or something else entirely, the Top nodded, "Of course, babe.  I bet it's more common than we think."  He squeezed the chilly hand, "Come on.  We need to freshen up and then head over to dinner.  Your mom said 6:30 and it's about a quarter to six now."  Walking down the driveway and across the path leading to the garage, Eric squeezed his hand again, noticing his lover's glances toward the house, "I want you to hop in the shower first, you're cold and I don't want you getting sick."

 

John laughed, seemingly breaking out of his spell, "Eric, you always think I'm cold and am going to get sick from it.  You have a cold obsession.  When was the last time I got sick?"  He climbed the stairs ahead of him, "I don't even think I've been sick since we've been together."

 

The other man laughed, "And that's because I make sure you stay warm.  Being cautious obviously works."

 

Rolling his eyes, John opened the door, sighing as the warm air hit his face.  "Join me?" he asked, toeing off his shoes by the door.

 

"Tonight, right now, I'm more concerned about not being late for dinner."

 

 

 

Slipping on his khakis twenty minutes later and tucking in a pressed button down, Eric glanced over at the other man who was across the room brushing his hair.  "Almost ready?" he asked as he did up his belt.

 

John eyed his reflection in the mirror and made a face, "Yep, all ready.  Let's go."  He tossed the brush to him and smiled, saying, "You look nice."

 

"Thanks, so do you."  He reached out and took his hand, squeezing it.  "Remember, we don't have to stay late if things get tense or if you're tired.  If you don't feel like you can make our excuse to leave, signal to me and I'll be more than happy to do it."  He kissed him softly, "I'm more concerned about you than about manners, yes?"

 

"Yeah," John said, agreeing and heading outside.  "I don't think it'll be a problem, I think it'll be an early night for everyone.  We're leaving at the crack of dawn to go hunting in the morning.  Turkey season is ending this weekend, so it's everyone's last chance.  You want to come?"

 

Concentrating on not making a face, Eric shook his head as they crossed the courtyard.  "No thanks, I prefer to live in peaceful ignorance about where my food comes from and not see it walking around and making noises.  I'll walk around town and take some pictures maybe, or prove your father right and see what your mother and sisters in law are doing and join the girls."  He raised his voice in a high feminine impression at the last part and then laughed.  "Have fun with your brothers and father, I'll be fine."

 

"I'd rather stay with you," he admitted softly, climbing the flight of stairs to the piazza.

 

"Then stay," Eric began, pausing and looking at his partner.  "Blame it on me …"

 

John shook his head, interrupting, "No, my father expects me to go.  He wouldn't understand if I told him I'd rather play tourist with you than go off and hunt with him and my brothers.  It'd just cause problems and more disappointment."  He glanced down, shaking his head again, adding softly, "God knows I don't need any more checks in the Fails to Live Up to Expectations column with him."  He opened the door to the house before the other man could say anything else.

 

"Wow," Eric said, glancing around the almost glowing house.  He had been taken through the house earlier in the afternoon with John and Mrs. McAllister pointing out the special features and the house had been beautiful in a cool, calm way.  But seeing it ablaze with light, a fire crackling in the formal seating room and the chandeliers sparkling made the house seem alive and welcoming.  "I don't think I got the full impact this afternoon."

 

John laughed, making his way down the richly aged wooden floors toward the kitchen and keeping room where voices could be heard.  "Hi everyone," he said with a smile as they stepped into the smaller, cozier room. 

 

Mrs. McAllister looked up from the pot she was stirring at the stove and gave her son a small smile, "We were getting worried that you had forgotten dinner."

 

Molly rolled her eyes from her position by the counter where she was crumbling bacon, "I wasn't worried.  I knew the smell of this wonderful food would reach you guys sooner or later and you'd come running."  She glanced at her sister in law who was busy pulling out serving pieces, "We've only been downstairs for about 10 minutes, isn't that right, Carolyn?"

 

The other woman looked up, winking, "That's right, I'm not even sure if it's that long.  You're not late at all."

 

"Eric," the older woman said, ignoring her daughters in law, "you're not Jewish, are you?"

 

Surprised by the question, he shook his head, "No, ma'am.  I'm not."

 

"What on earth would make you ask that, Mother?" John said, his tone indicating that there could be no good reason.  "It shouldn't matter one way or the other."

 

"Don't take that tone of voice with your mother, boy," Mr. McAllister said sternly, coming into the room, trailed by his sons.  "People in Atlanta might talk to their mothers that way but I won't have it in this house."

 

John blushed, "Sorry sir."  Then, turning to his mother, "I'm sorry Mother, I didn't mean to be disrespectful but I didn't understand the question or why you'd ask it."

 

She tilted her head slightly at him as if accepting his apology and then continued, her voice cool,  "I was only asking because your .." Her voice trailed off as she stumbled for the word for a second.  "Because Eric mentioned his grandparents had been killed during World War II and many of those who were killed were Jewish.  I didn't think to ask this afternoon and before I planned tonight's dinner menu of stuffed pork chops." 

 

"Thank you for asking, Mrs. McAllister," Eric said, jumping into the awkward pause when John didn't say anything.  "I'm not sure if my grandparents were Jewish or not.  My Mother was raised Catholic and my Father was raised Episcopalian, which is how I was raised.  Stuffed pork chops sound wonderful to me."

 

Molly jumped into the conversation, "They are, Eric."  She smiled at her mother in law, "Everything that comes out of this kitchen is wonderful."

 

The older women smiled as she turned back to the pot simmering on the stove, "I can't take all the credit.  Polly does as much of the work as I do, if not more."

 

"So, dad, where are we going tomorrow?" Andrew asked, eager to pull his father's attention and glare away from John.

 

"If you'll excuse me," John muttered to no one in particular, fleeing the kitchen and heading back to the porch.

 

Eric followed a moment later when it was clear his presence would not be missed between the cooking and hunting discussions.  Stepping out onto the piazza, he saw his lover standing by the railing, staring down at his hands.  "Hey," he said softly, coming up behind him.

 

"Hey."

 

Resting a hand on the other man's back, Eric said softly, "You ok?"

 

"With what? The fact that I bit my mother's head off when she was just trying to be nice to you or the fact that my father just jumped all over me like a little kid who should be thankful he wasn't taken out to the woodshed?"

 

Recognizing the stressed tone, Eric lowered his voice more, making it both calmer and firmer.  "First, I don't think you bit your mother's head off and I doubt anyone else does either.  It was a surprising question.  But," he paused, stilling his hand on his lover's back, "I think we've got enough problems and little comments from your father without going to look for any more.  Yes?"

 

John nodded, "Yeah.  Jump to the conclusion that no offense was meant until proven otherwise."

 

The other man smiled in the darkness, "I think it will make things easier.  Your mom didn't mean anything and she's trying."

 

He nodded again, "Yeah, she is.  I think so too."  John turned, facing his lover with a small smile, "No comforting comments about my father's tone to me?"

 

Eric glanced around the darkened porch and then quickly kissed him, reaching around and patting his butt, "Nope, I think he was right.  Being stressed and edgy isn't an excuse to be rude.  Not when it's stressful for everyone and everyone is trying hard to be nice."

 

The Brat sighed, turning back to study the dark courtyard and gardens.  A minute later, he said softly, "They are trying, aren't they?"

 

"I think your mother is, she's being the perfect hostess and I think does want things to go smoothly.  Your brothers and their wives, I think are for the most part, are totally fine.  They don't have a problem or at least not much of one, with you being gay or us being together.  It's just a non-issue or minor adjustment one." The Top paused for a moment, weighing his words before continuing, "Your father, I'm not sure about."

 

John shrugged, still keeping his back to his lover and staring into the darkness.  "Join the club," he said with a sarcastic laugh.  "What my father is thinking or expecting or wants has pretty much always been a mystery.  You sort of have to figure it out by process of elimination.  You know when you piss him off, or don't live up to his expectations and go from there."

 

"I can see that," the other man said, nodding.  "He doesn't seem to be big into communicating."  He glanced behind him, "We probably should be getting back, if you feel better."

 

"Yeah, can't be seen as going off and pouting like some little girl," John said with another dry laugh.  "Acting like a girl, I think was the worst insult my father could throw at us."  He headed back to the door, still chuckling.  "Growing up, that was a pretty bad insult.  Now, considering some of the things he's probably thought about it, it doesn't seem that bad."  He turned back, holding the door open for Eric and shrugged, "Oh well, right?  He loves me, I guess and hasn't thrown me out of the family.  He can't be that bad."

 

Before Eric could answer, his lover had gone into the house, heading back toward the lights and noise of the kitchen.  As he passed the dining room, he saw Molly just starting to put out place settings around the large formal wooden table.  He could hear John talking to his brother already and seemed to have shaken off his morose state on the porch.  Stepping into the room, he smiled, saying, "You need some help?"

 

She glanced up, surprised and then smiled back, "Sure, that'd make this go quicker."  Gesturing the pile of gleaming silver, she said, "Help yourself."  She pulled the small pile of freshly ironed white linen napkins nearer to herself and then sat down, folding it into a simple pattern.  They worked in silence for a minute before she broke the silence, saying, "You and John seem really happy together."

 

Eric glanced up and nodded, "We are.  We're a good fit, I think."

 

Molly nodded back, not looking up from the napkin she was folding.  "It seems so, just in the short time I've seen you two together, it seems like you really complement each other.  I've known Johnny for almost 20 years and have seen him in other relationships, with women," she hastily added. "I don't remember him looking as content then."  Then, looking up and meeting his eyes, she smiled, "I think it's great."

 

"You and Jason seem very happy too."

 

"Oh yeah," she said, turning back to the napkin, "we're lucky.  We're in a good marriage and it's been a great few years."  Putting the newly folded napkin in a separate pile, she began to work on another one.  "I think Jason and Andy are both a bit jealous of John," she said suddenly. 

 

"Why?"

 

"I don't mean in any bad way, but I think just how he struck out on his own as soon as he graduated from high school and hasn't seemed to have looked back at all.  I think just having that independence, as much as they love Charleston, just …" her voice trailed off as she searched for the words.  Glancing up at Eric, she smiled again, "I think just not having traditions and expectations shadowing your every move would be great."

 

Eric smiled back, pausing across the table from her and gave a small laugh, "Yeah, being gay and in a gay relationship tend not to conform to the definition of a traditional family.  We sort of have to make our own rules up as we go."

 

"I think Jas struggles with that," she admitted.  "Trying to find that balance of tradition and how our marriage should be." Making a face, she shrugged, "Traditions and expectations, especially in this family, are hard to break.  It's been slightly easier for me than Carolyn, I think.  My family shares the same traditions and expectations so I was raised with them."  She laughed again, turning back to the napkins, "Just be glad you're not a daughter in law in this family."

 

The man laughed, resuming his work laying out silverware, "Well, to hear Mr. McAllister talk, I might as well be one."

 

"Oh no, it's nothing compared to what Caro and I have heard."  Putting on a sweet southern accent reminiscent of Mrs. McAllister, she continued, "Don't forget dear, nothing can survive with two heads.  In order for your marriage to survive, there can be only one head of your household.  Or, don't forget dear, your husband's happiness and satisfaction should be placed before yours.  He has to work every day for the family while you get to stay home.  You should concentrate on making sure the house and you are beautiful and welcoming to him every day and have things just as he likes them so you make coming home a pleasant occasion. Don't bother him with all your little problems, ask for his advice and act on his wishes because he is the head of the household and deserves your respect."

 

Eric laughed with her, "Sounds very 1950's."

 

"Well, you know," she started with a shrug and then smiled brightly.  "Hi, sweetie."

 

Glancing up from laying the last place setting, he saw Jason stick his head into the dining room.  "Hey," he said casually.  "If you're almost done in here, Mother needs help in the kitchen."  He glanced at Eric and gave a small smile, "You're welcome to join us in the keeping room while dinner's being finished.  John and Andy are talking rugby and Father's pretending to know what they're talking about.  I could use someone to keep me company."

 

The other man smiled, "Sure.  I'm surprised you don't play."

 

"No, I played baseball in school but it was never really my thing."  He gave him a wink and then lowered his voice conspiratorially, adding, "But don't tell my father."  Turning back to his wife, he said, "So, are you going to go help mother?"

 

Folding the last napkin, Molly gave her husband a small smile, "Yes, dear.  Of course."

 

"OK, good." he said with a nod before turning away.

 

Molly glanced at Eric with a small smile, "Mrs. Cleaver calls."

 

Following her out of the room, Eric made his way to the hearth room just off the kitchen, where his lover's voice could be heard in a loud, boisterous discussion with Andrew and Jason over, what now sounded like a prank played when they were all still in high school.  He sat down in the only empty seat a bit apart from the group, struggling to catch up to the conversation and trying hard not to feel suddenly very much alone.

 

Five minutes later, in the midst of Andrew and Jason arguing about whether or not the stolen inflatable crab was from Frank's Crab Hut or The Crab Cottage, John seemed to finally notice his lover's presence.  He smiled, leaning over toward Eric's chair, "It was just a stupid prank.  I swear, I didn't have anything to do with it.  I just watched."  He grinned at his lover, "You know me, I'd never help steal a 30 ft. inflatable crab and set it up so it completely covered a friend's car."

 

Eric smiled back, plastering a smile on his face that would do Mrs. McAllister proud, saying, "Of course not."  His smile faded as John turned back to his brothers' conversation and the small feeling of loneliness came over him again.

 

"Boys will be boys," Mr. McAllister said, glancing behind him, he slightly nodded toward Eric.  "Lord knows that my friends and I pulled our own share of stunts like that when we were in school.  Just boy's stuff, I’m sure you understand."  He gave a tight smile to Eric's nod and muttered agreement.  "You're welcome to go help the girls in the kitchen with dinner if you'd be more comfortable."

 

Eric glanced at John and saw that he wasn't paying any attention to their conversation before saying, "No, sir.  Thank you anyway but I'm very comfortable here.  My friends and I did our own share of stupid stunts in school and I do fully understand the concept of boys being boys.  You know, being one and all."  The last part came out sharper then he intended but he met the older man's eyes firmly, daring him to counter the statement.

 

Giving a shrug, the other man turned back to his sons without another word.

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Molly stepped into the room, waiting until there was a pause in the current topic of the play-offs before announcing dinner.  "Why don't you all go sit down and we'll bring the food in."

 

"Is there assigned seating," Eric asked quietly as they made their way into the dining room.

 

John shook his head, "No, don't worry about it.  Mother and Father sit at the ends but the rest of us just fill in."

 

"Good," Eric said softly, eyeing the table.

 

"John, Eric," Molly said, nodding toward the two seats together on the left side of the table.  "Why don't you guys sit there, next to Jas.  I'll sit on the other side next to Caro."

 

Eric flashed her a grateful smile as he pulled out the end chair, letting John sit next to his brother.  "Everything smells wonderful, Mrs. McAllister," he said, turning to his left.  "John has told me what a wonderful cook you are."

 

"Thank you, I'd be happy to share any recipes you want.  John loves my apple fritters," she said with a smile, picking up one of the serving spoons and dishing out a small amount of green beans and onions.  "I'm sure that you're very good in the kitchen too.  I watched a special on The Food Network and they highlighted the most amazing gay chief.  I didn't realize that you all had branched into cooking, too."

 

Smiling, Eric took the offered spoon from her and said simply, "Oh yes, we're all over the place now."

 

 

 

Mr. McAllister raised his glass of wine and nodded his head toward his wife with a smile after taking the first bite of food.  "My compliments, dear.  Everything is wonderful and you've truly outdone yourself."

 

"Yes, Mother," Andrew said from his seat next to his father, "everything is very good."

 

The older woman smiled, "Thank you and I'll be sure to pass along your compliments to Polly.  I'm glad you're enjoying everything."  She glanced around the table, her eyes resting on Eric for a brief moment longer, adding, "It's been so long since we've had all of you home that I wanted to make it a special meal."  Looking across the table and meeting her husband's eyes, she added, "We're very fortunate that everyone is healthy and happy.  Everything else is secondary."

 

Molly raised her glass, "I completely agree Mrs. McAllister, to being healthy and happy."

 

Echoing the words with the rest of the table, Eric caught his lover's eye and winked.

 

 

 

"So Eric," Mrs. McAllister said, turning toward him, "how did you like our city?"

 

Swallowing a bite of stuffing, he nodded, "From what I saw this afternoon, it's beautiful.  I'm amazed at how well preserved everything seems."

 

Carolyn laughed, "I know, I feel the same way sometimes walking down the residential streets.  If you're alone in the morning, especially, it might be quiet and peaceful and it's almost jolting to see or hear a car.  It's like you expect to see nothing but buggies and women in hoop skirts."

 

"I'm looking forward to showing Eric around more," John said.  "Maybe if we get back in time tomorrow or on Saturday, we'll do that."

 

"Oh don't worry about it," Molly said, glancing at her husband with a smile.  "While you guys are off killing poor defenseless animals, I'm sure Caro, Mrs. McAllister and I can easily keep Eric busy.  Maybe we can catch the boat tour out to the fort, that's several hours and you can see most of the waterfront from inside the glass."

 

"That would be fun, thanks," Eric said, taking another bite of food, catching an unreadable exchange of looks between Andrew and Jason.  "I'd enjoy seeing that, I've always loved American history and feel like I'm always playing catch up with it. " Then he added, "A fort would be nice, better then old houses and flowers."  Instantly ashamed of himself for the lie and for bowing to please other people, he shook his head slightly, continuing, "Even though I love to explore old houses."

 

Carolyn smiled, "Good and don't worry about being dragged around through any gardens."  She glanced out the darkened windows into the winter evening, "At least not this time of the year."

 

"They didn't teach American history?" Andrew asked slightly annoyed.  "We teach European history here.  We haven't done anything worth learning about?"

 

"Oh no," Eric corrected with a quick laugh, "they do teach it but it's a more watered down version than what you're taught here in the States.  From what I remember at least, there was more focus on a few of the different presidents, Washington, Jefferson, Monroe, the biggies."  Taking another quick bite and swallow, he continued, "It's like European history here, I imagine.  Don't you learn mostly about the kings and queens mostly and half dozen battles, in almost a millennium's worth of history?"

 

Jason laughed and nodded, "Oh yeah.  You mean there's more?"  Earning a laugh from the rest of the table, he smiled and took another large bite of food as the slight tension eased and more general conversation flowed around the table.

 

 "So John, how's work coming?" Mr. McAllister asked fifteen minutes later, as he pushed back slightly from the table, done with dinner, and sipped at his wine.  "You've been there for going on five years now.  Any promotions in the works?"

 

Appetite immediately gone, John put down his fork and pushed away his own plate slightly.  Resisting the urge to look at Eric, he forced himself to meet his father's eyes, saying, "Actually, sir.  I quit NationsBank about four, five months ago."

 

"Oh John, why?" Mrs. McAllister asked from the other end of the table.  "You always enjoyed your job and seemed good at it."

 

"I'm sure you quit because you found something better, more responsibility and more money," his father said firmly.  "There's no other reason to quit a job."

 

"There's always quitting before they fire you," Andrew said with a helpful grin at his brother.  "I know I'd consider that a valid reason."

 

"I wasn't fired or about to get fired, Andy," John said with a glare that deepened as his younger brother blew him a small kiss.  Looking back at his father, he took a sip of wine before continuing, "I quit because I didn't like it any more.  It …"

 

Mr. McAllister slapped the table causing the crystal and china to jump slightly, "Hell son, that's why they call it work.  If you enjoyed it, it would be called Fun."

 

"Why don't we clear the table, girls?" Mrs. McAllister said suddenly, standing up and picking up a bowl.  "I'm sure that we'd all be more comfortable in the living room."

 

John stood as everyone else did, his gaze never leaving his father's face.  "Just because it's work doesn't mean you have to be miserable doing it."

 

"Miserable doing it," the older man said with a short laugh and a shake of his head.  Picking up his wine glass, he drained the last few sips before putting it back down with another shake of his head.  "I swear Johnny, a man doesn't worry about if he's miserable or not.  A man worries about putting food on the table, a good roof over his family's head and enough money in savings for bad times.  That's all you should be concerned about."  He turned to his two other sons, "Do you boys always love going to work every morning?  Always happy and cheerful to be up at dawn, getting home in the dark and working on the weekends?"

 

Jason shook his head, "No sir, but at the same time, I'm not miserable and I'm sure Andy isn't either."  He glanced at his brother for confirmation. Turning back to his father, he started, "You can't …"  then stopped as the older man turned and stalked off in the direction of the living room.

 

"Go on, boys," Mrs. McAllister said with a nod in that direction.  "We'll just put everything in the kitchen and join you in a minute."  Then she gave them a tight smile, "Don’t fight with your father, please.  You know how he is and what he expects from all of you.  He doesn't mean to be angry, but when one of you doesn't live up to his expectations, he's disappointed and I think sees it as a personal failure.  He doesn't mean to take it out on you."

 

Watching as Andrew and Jason walked out of the room, Eric put a hand on John's arm, holding him back for a moment.  As soon as the door to the kitchen swung shut behind Carolyn, he whispered to his lover, "You OK?  Let's go if this is going to get ugly.  I'll make our excuses and say I've got a headache.  There's no reason for this."  He put his arm around the other man, squeezing his shoulders. "There is nothing wrong with you not working at an outside job any more.  You're making money with your writing and you're going to make more, so there's none of this crap about not supporting yourself.  And, even if you weren't making a dime, you're happier, healthier and we're better as a couple and that's the important thing, yes?"

 

Not looking at Eric, the Brat nodded, still staring at the doorway where his father disappeared.  "Yeah," he said softly.

 

"You don't sound too sure."

 

"No, I'm fine," John said in a distant, detached voice.  "He's just annoyed because he doesn't know what I'm doing.  I bet he'll be ok once I explain to him that I am working and I am earning money and it's not like I'm sitting on my ass or quit just because I'm lazy."  He nodded once as if convincing himself, "Yeah, I bet that's it.  He'll understand once I explain it to him."

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping out of the bathroom two hours later, towel wrapped around his waist, Eric smiled at his Brat.  "Bathroom's free and I even left you a dry towel."

 

John looked up from flipping through the tv channels, then clicked it off.  "OK, there's nothing on."

 

"Good, I'm ready for some quiet anyway.  It's been a long day and you've got to get up early tomorrow. Go take a shower and let's get to bed."  Going over to their bag, he rummaged through it for boxers before dropping his towel and slipping on the underwear.  He glanced back at the couch and snapped his fingers a couple of times, saying tiredly, "Move it John. I'm ready for bed and I know you're tired too.  It's been a long day."

 

Dropping the remote onto the table, he glared at his Top, "If you're so tired, go to bed.  There's no need to get bossy with me."

 

Eric smiled at him and nodded toward the bathroom.  "Go, John," he said quietly but firmly.  "We go to bed together, same as at home."  Grabbing his robe from their bag, he put it on and then turned back to his Brat, raising an eyebrow.

 

Shooting a small glare, John stalked into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly behind him.

 

Understanding the mixed emotions and tension of the day were behind his Brat's reaction and pushing, Eric rubbed the tension from back of his own neck before heading into the kitchenette and pouring out two mugs of milk into a small saucepan for hot chocolate.  The milk was steaming and the chocolate mixed in by the time the bathroom door opened again and John walked out in a cloud of steam.

 

"That felt good," John admitted softly, padding naked over to their bag for his own robe.

 

"I figured it'd relax you," the Top said easily, pouring their drinks and then running water briefly in the pan to soak overnight.  Flipping off the lights, he held out a mug, "Come on Kiwi.  Come sit outside under the stars with me for a few minutes.  The fresh air and the quiet will be nice."

 

John smiled, flipping off all the lights except for the bathroom, half dimmed by a partially closed door.  "Don't want anyone to be able to see anything from the house," he explained as he took the mug from his lover.  "Andy found out how easy that was one time when he tried to sneak a girl out of here."

 

The Top laughed, "I’m sure your father was less than thrilled."  He opened the door, taking a deep breath as the cool air hit his face.   Sitting down on the top step, he gently bumped John when he sat down next to him.  "You feeling ok?"

 

"Yeah, it feels good out here.  It's kind of stuffy inside, remind me to look to see about lowering the heat or something when we go back in."

 

Eric gently bumped him again, "That's not what I meant, Kiwi."  He took a sip of his chocolate before adding, "I was very proud of how you did today."

 

The Brat snorted, "You mean, I only managed to boggle your introduction, make my mother uncomfortable, jump on her when she was trying to be nice and didn't stand up to my father's shitting comments at all?"

 

"You stood up to him several times," the other man pointed out.  "And that was plenty.  His comments were getting to me by the end, but that was me and my patience running thin.  You stood up and didn't take his comments about your writing.  You explained what you're doing and he seemed to accept it."

 

"He didn't accept it, he just shut up about it."

 

The Top shrugged, "End result is the same.  Instead of minutely examining every aspect of your life, we got to watch Andrew on the hot seat about when he's going to get a promotion."  He smiled at his lover, leaning over and kissing him quickly, "You did good, John. You stood up to him when you felt comfortable doing so and when you felt it was needed, that's more than I can ask of you."

 

Shaking his head, John said softly, "But less than what I can ask of myself."

 

The other man shrugged, bumping him again, "Yeah, but that's why you're not in charge of your limits.  Yes?"

 

Bumping him back, John laughed, "Yeah.  I guess so."

 

"I know so."

 

John took a sip of his chocolate, relaxing slightly as Eric put an arm around him, pulling him closer.  "He just makes me feel like such a complete failure, once again not being what he wants me to be," he said softly.  "Like when he asked me about working.  I mean" he paused, struggling for the words for a moment before continuing.  "I liked my job at NationsBank and everything; I was good at it and people liked me and respected me."

 

"Yes," the Top said softly.  "They did, babe."

 

"But I think it was almost killing a part of me.  Every morning when I'd sit in traffic and every night when I'd sit in traffic and all day when my stomach would be in knots wondering when I was going to fuck something up and show everyone what a total idiot I really was."  His voice quivered slightly as it dropped to an almost inaudible level, "It was killing me."

 

Hugging him close, Eric kissed him gently on the top of his dark hair.  "I know babe," he said softly, remembering all too clearly the last few months of John's work; the stress and strain and the worry that had taken a serious toll on them, finally ended four months earlier with his resignation.  Kissing him again, the Top said with a small chuckle, breaking the mood, "Let's not go back there, ok?  You finally put back the weight you lost and I don't relish the idea of having to go back to six small meals a day.  I packed on ten pounds with all the food."

 

John laughed, "That's because you were eating like six regular meals, not small meals, plus dessert with me every night."  He lifted his head and kissed his lover quickly on the lips with a smile.  "I don't want to go there again either.  I don't want a repeat of the almost daily conversations your hand had with my butt in the office while we discussed expectations and goals and personal limits and control."

 

"It wasn't daily, it wasn't even weekly," the Top protested.

 

"You only think so because it wasn't your butt," John shot back with a laugh, kissing him again.  Then, laying his head back down on the other man's shoulder, he sighed again, relaxing.  "It's very pretty here," he said a moment later.

 

"Yes but part of me thinks that it would be just as pretty and less stressful from a nice balcony at a local B&B or Inn," he said.  Then, adding quickly, "But it's been great getting to know your brothers and meeting your parents.  I'm sure that the worst is over, and now that the initial shock has worn off, we'll have a great next few days." Giving his lover's shoulders a squeeze, the Top fell silent, listening to the night sounds and enjoying the warm feel of the other man pressed against him.

 

A minute later, a dim light spilled off the upper piazza almost directly across from them, separated by the courtyard.  Molly and Jason appeared in one of their bedroom's three large windows.  "Told you it was easy to see," he said, breaking the silence with a smile.

 

"I had an interesting talk with her today in the dining room," Eric said as they watched the couple discuss something.

 

"Molly's great, I've known her for years now.  She went to school with us and was just always around."  John paused, watching them for a minute. "I was sort surprised when she married Jason, though.  He's always been sort of button down and conservative and she was always more of a free-spirit and independent.  Sort of the wild child of her family, I guess."

 

Eric kissed him, stroking his check, "A bit like you, huh Kiwi?"

 

"Oh no, I was very much the obedient son when I was younger.  By the book and not making waves and just doing what was expected of me.  I didn't break free until college and then I never looked back."

 

Watching them again, the Top said, "She seemed happy enough, I guess when we were talking.  I think you're right, she's a bit more independent than what I think she either feels comfortable with or with what Jason wants."

 

"Yeah … ouch," John said, jerking up and staring at the window.  "Did you see that?" he asked as Jason soundlessly delivered another swat to Molly's skirt covered bottom.

 

"That's interesting," Eric said softly as he watched Jason gently kiss her and seemingly wipe away a tear from her check.  "I wonder what that was about?"  He stood up, pulling John up with him, "Come on.  She's fine and doesn't seem shocked or upset about what happened or cowering like she's scared, he's not yelling at her so this is obviously nothing new or nothing she hasn't agreed to.  But it's clear that they think they're alone and if this escalates, it's nothing we need to watch."  Opening the door to the darkened living room, he glanced back and saw the other couple still embracing, Jason's hand resting on her butt in a very familiar pose.

 

"I had no idea," John said quietly, carrying his empty mug to the sink. 

 

Eric followed, finishing his chocolate in one gulp before laying his mug next to the other one.  He shrugged, "She said they had a traditional marriage and that Jason was the head of it, so I guess it's what works for them."

 

"I guess …" he said with a shrug.  "Just sort of shocking, is all."

 

"Yeah," Eric agreed, "but, like I said, she seems happy and it seems to work for them."  Walking out of the kitchen, he glanced at the window, part of him curious about what was happening in the bedroom across the courtyard.  "Come on, bedtime," he said slipping off his robe and laying it on a nearby chair.

 

John put his robe near Eric's and then laughed, sliding into bed under the soft cream comforter, "Come on hon, let's finish what we started earlier."

 

 

 

"I think there's something sort of sexy and forbidden about having sex in your parents' house," John said softly in the darkness.  They were spooned up together with Eric's now limp cock still half buried inside him.

 

The Top shifted slightly, pulling John closer to him and kissing his shoulder again, his cock twitching slightly as John's muscles tightened a bit against the intrusion. "And how many times have you had sex in this room, Kiwi." he asked with a laugh, struggling to stay awake.

 

John shuddered as the movement sent small shivers through him; "I lost my virginity in this room, if you must know."

 

"Did you really?"

 

"Yep, a very nice, sensitive art student from the Charleston Art College.  He was a sophomore and it was the summer between my junior and senior year in high school."

 

Giving another chuckle, Eric kissed him again, "Ah, the charms of an older man.  Did he seduce you with poetry in the moonlight and whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"

 

"Nope, our first … date, if you can call it that, was at a local burger joint and he was so shy that I basically had to drag him up here and lock the door."  He shifted, his muscles tightening reflexively around the cock inside him.  "It wasn't as great as I expected but at the same time, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it was going to either.  It was good to sort of get the first time over and done and all that nervous anticipation over with."

 

"Yeah," Eric agreed with a yawn.  "No more of the unknown."  He kissed him again and then relaxed against his Brat's back.  "Go to sleep Kiwi, you can tell me more about your art student in the morning."

 

 

 

The Brat groaned at the sound of the alarm beeping in the darkness and felt the bed shift as Eric rolled off of him to silence the noise.  "It's too early," he mumbled, not moving from the warm nest of pillows and sheets.  "And it's cold in here, go turn up the heat please."  A moment later, as he felt the bed shift again with the Top getting up, he said, "Thank you."

 

"I'd like to point out, just for the record," the other man said as he slid back into the bed, "that you're the one who turned the heat down last night."  Rolling back toward the middle of the bed, he snuggled up tight against his lover and sighed, relaxing.

 

"Are you going to do something about that," John asked, feeling Eric's hard cock pressed up against his thigh.  "Why don't we make some good memories this morning before I'm forced into the woods with my father and get to listen to, at some point, I'm sure, another fun-filled discussion how I'm either a disappointment or an embarrassment or maybe both?"

 

The other man nipped his shoulder gently and then kissed it, "Nope.  There's no time, Kiwi.  That was the second time I hit the snooze and you've got about twenty minutes to get that lovely ass out of bed, dressed and downstairs to meet the gun toting members of your family before they come up here to look for you."  He laughed, rolling off the younger man and getting up with a sigh, "And I have a feeling that if they found me pounding you hard like you want, turkeys wouldn't be the only thing shot this morning."

 

 With a dramatic sigh, John rolled over and crawled out of the bed, sticking his tongue out at his lover, "You're such a Top sometimes."  Laughing, he dodged Eric's swipe and darted into the bathroom, slamming the door.

 

"Just wait," the Top called out, the laughter clear in his voice, "I'll be waiting for you when you come out."

 

"Promises, promises," the Brat shot back.

 

Opening the small refrigerator, Eric pulled out a carton of orange juice, pouring them each a glass and carried them into the sitting area, then turned on the morning news.  He glanced at the closed bathroom door as the sound of the shower drifted through and looked up at the wall clock.  Memories of their conversations the night before and the one from the previous weekend rushed through him and his cock grew hard at the thought. 

 

A few minutes later, John came out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair.  "This place has such crappy water pressure, I was sure it was going to take me forever to get the shampoo out of my hair."  He saw Eric leaning against the small dining table, smiling, "What?  Did you make breakfast?  You shouldn't have bothered, we usually just grab …"

 

"No," Eric said cutting him off, his voice quiet and firm.  He cocked a finger, "Come here,"

 

John grinned as he began to walk slowly toward his lover. "Why?" 

 

"Because I'm telling you to."

 

"And that's suppose to be a good enough reason," the other man asked, grin widening as he got closer to the table.

 

Eric raised an eyebrow, "Yes."  In one movement, he pushed himself away from the table and grabbed his Brat's arm, pulling him close.  Turning John around, he bent him over the table and then undid his lover's towel, allowing it to fall to the floor.  Leaning down, he whispered in the other man's ear, "Do I need to explain myself or are you simply supposed to obey?" 

 

The Brat shifted slightly against the hard table, spreading his legs wider and squirming at his lover's words.  "Obey," he whispered back, his own cock growing hard as the towel fell away.  He felt Eric pull away slightly and felt him undo his robe.  "You said we didn't have time for this," he said with a smile, shifting again.

 

"Well," the Top said softly, leaning low, running both hands down his lover's bare back, stopping to caress his butt before spreading the two cheeks slightly apart, "I thought about it and decided that we did."  Lining up his hard cock, he slowly pushed inside, stopping when the head was fully inside and giving John a moment to adjust.  "Plus," he continued as he pushed further in, "I didn't see why I should be denied just because you couldn't get up with the first alarm." 

 

"Hey, you hit the button …," John's protest broke off with a low moan, arching his back against the table as he was fully impaled.  "God, Eric," he breathed out as the other man pulled half way out before sinking completely back.  Letting go of the table sides he had been gripping, he reached under him toward his own hard cock.

 

Stilling his thrusts for a second, the Top reach down and swatted the other man's thigh.  "No," he ordered, "hands back on the table."  Resuming his thrusts, picking up speed, he pulled almost completely out of his lover's body each time before pushing back inside; so hard and deep that John moaned and writhed in pleasure beneath him.  A moment later, he felt his balls tighten, then after one final deep thrust, he came with a low groan of satisfaction.

 

John arched under him, hands gripping the edges of the table as he felt his lover climax inside of him.  "God," he breathed out again as his internal muscles spasmed slightly and his cock throbbed, hard against his stomach.  "Please let me come," he whispered as he felt Eric soften and begin to pull out of him.

 

"No," the Top said, leaning down and kissing the back of his sweaty neck.  "I want you to think about this during the day when you're out with your father, when you're feeling like he's judging you and you're not living up to his expectations.  I want you to remember whose expectations you have to live up to, who you belong to, and know that you are very loved and cherished for what and who you are."

 

"I swear, I'll remember all of that, even if you let me come now," John said hoarsely and then gave a low moan as Eric pulled completely out of him. 

 

The Top laughed and gently swatted the bare butt still spread out in front of him, "I'm sure you'll remember better this way, babe."

 

 

 

Carefully picking his way through the low brush that grew under the tall trees, John silently followed Andrew and his father to the spot they had been told about by another hunter who had bagged a large tom the previous weekend.  His cock throbbed lightly still as his mind replayed the morning's events and the feel of Eric thick and deep inside him caused a slight twinge in his inner muscles as he walked. 

 

"Here we are," Mr. McAllister said ten minutes later, pointing to the small stand set up among the trees.  Climbing up the wooden ladder, he scanned the open meadows and sunny spots for a moment and then nodded, "This looks good.  Come on up, all we have to do is wait for them to come in for their morning meal."  Helping his sons up, each carrying a pack of supplies, he added, "Any luck and we might be able to each bag one before noon."

 

Setting down his pack, Jason chuckled, "And why would we want to do that? More time at home with the wife?"

 

Andrew hit the back of his head, "No dumbass, so we can go sit in some nice heated bar and drink and watch some games instead of sitting out here freezing our balls off."

 

Jason made a face before sitting down on the wooden platform and pulled out a thermos of coffee and several stackable cups.  "You know, brother dear, for that comment, I think you can just get your own coffee."  He turned to his father, "Would you like some, sir?"

 

The older man nodded, rolling his eyes at their antics. "Thank you," he said, "and give some to your brother."

 

"Surely," Jason said with a smile and held out a cup for John.  "Here you go middle brother, drink up, we've got plenty."

 

"Stop," Mr. McAllister ordered sharply, glaring at Andrew and Jason.  "This is a pleasant morning and I'm not going to have it messed up by you two girls bickering.  Is that understood?"

 

 Andrew blushed slightly and shrugged at Jason, "Sorry bro."

 

"Sorry," the other brother said with a shrug, handing over a cup of coffee.

 

Smiling, John shook his head as he watched the exchange.  It was so familiar to watch Andy and Jason pick on each other, it had happened non-stop when they were growing up and had obviously continued.  He sipped his coffee and swallowed back the small lump that grew in his throat as he realized he missed being a part of the connection and closeness with his brothers that they shared between each other.

 

"Speaking of balls," Mr. McAllister said, taking a sip of his coffee, "did you and Molly work out whatever her problem was last night?"

 

Jason nodded, "Yeah, I talked to her and we sorted it out."

 

Remembering the scene he and Eric had witnessed, John asked, "What happened?"

 

"Oh, last night after you and Eric went off," Andy said, "Molly and Caro sort of got into a bit of a disagreement."

 

"It was nothing, really," the other brother said, interrupting with a shake of his head.  "Molly was tired and Carolyn said something about how nice it was to spend Christmas at our house this year and not having to travel.  Molly thought she was she was criticizing how we've hosted Christmas in the past and .."

 

"Which she wasn't, at all," Andrew said firmly.  "We've always enjoyed spending the holidays at your place, it was just nice to have a chance to do it this year."

 

Mr. McAllister rolled his eyes in John's direction, "Aren't you sad you missed all the excitement?"

 

John laughed, "I hope everyone is feeling better this morning."

 

Taking another swig of his coffee, Jason laughed slightly, "Well, I'm sure that Molly has had more comfortable mornings, but she's fine and promised that she'd apologize to Carolyn this morning."

 

"Good for you son," the older man said with a firm nod.  "It's important to let your wife know who is the man around the house and that there are consequences for bad behavior."  He glanced across toward the field for movement before adding, "It's not always easy being the man of the family but it's how you were raised and I'm sure you have stronger marriages for it."

 

"Yes sir," Andrew said, taking a sip of his coffee.

 

Jason echoed the words, glancing at John.

 

"Yes sir," John said after swallowing his own sip of coffee.  "It's important."

 

Mr. McAllister smiled at him, turning away from the field he was studying, "That's very good to hear, son.  I have to admit, I was a bit concerned."  He paused for a minute, adding, "I think we were all concerned."

 

"Concerned about what?" John asked, glancing at his father and then to his brothers.

 

Jason glanced at Andy and then shrugged in John's direction, "I don't know, that you'd turned into some sort of …"  His voice trailed off as he bent his wrist and made a puckered lip face, batting his eye lashes.  "You know."

 

The other brother laughed, adding, "We knew you hadn't gone that bad or anything Johnny.  But you know,  it's been a couple of years and stuff."  He glanced at his father and shrugged again, "We were just all curious about if … you know, being gay and all had changed you."  He smiled and tipped his coffee at his brother, "But glad to see it hasn't.  Eric seems really nice and all and I'm happy for you."

 

"We were concerned that you'd turned into the girl of the relationship," his father said bluntly.  "Gone soft on us, forgotten who raised you and how you were raised." 

 

John looked at them, saying slowly, "We're both guys, neither one of us is the girl of the relationship."

 

Mr. McAllister laughed, "Don't be stupid, son, we know that.  We weren't suggesting that you or Eric do anything really perverse like dressing up or wearing make up but you know how relationships are."

 

"There's a balance," Jason said with a shrug, picking up for his father.  "You have to have a guy and a girl to balance it.  That's why you have really masculine dykes; it balances out the normal women who just happen to be gay. 

 

Andrew nodded, "That's like you.  You're a regular guy, like sports and beer and sex but you just like sex with guys."  He finished his last gulp of coffee, "I mean, it was stupid of us to even be concerned about it.  I hope you're not insulted."

 

"No, of course not," John said with a quick shake of his head. 

 

Standing up, Mr. McAllister walked over to where his cartridges were, patting John on the shoulder as he passed.  "I can't say your mother and I were thrilled when you told us of your decision to be a homosexual, son, and we're still hoping that you'll get it out of your system and settle down with a nice girl one of these days.  But, at least if you decide to be that way, you're still the man in the relationship.  I didn't raise any son of my mine to bend over and take it up the ass."

 

"Father!" John said, looking up, blushing.

 

Jason snorted coffee and began to choke, "Jeez Father, I think it's a bit early in the morning to be talking about that."

 

"Hell, I don't think there's ever a good time to be talking about that," Andrew corrected.  "In fact, I think there's been too much talking and not enough shooting so far this morning.  It's getting warmer, I bet those suckers should be strolling out for breakfast soon enough."

 

"I'd agree with that," John said, standing up and reaching for the gun borrowed from his father.   Sitting back down a moment later, eyes firmly on the open land before them, he shifted slightly and felt the blood flush his cheeks with memories of this morning.  Ducking his head, pretending to check the gun, pictures of how he must have looked bent over submissively taking the thorough fucking delivered by Eric and then left hard, with orders to think about who he belonged to.  He shivered slightly at the thought of his father or brothers witnessing it and the complete disgust and condemnation that would accompany such knowledge.  Looking up, he caught Andrew's eye and smiled.  Reaching around, he grabbed the thermos to get more coffee, saying, "It's definitely too early to be talking about sex.  Eric hasn't been in the friendliest of moods lately so I'm lacking in that department right now, if you know what I mean."

 

Andrew laughed and shook his head, "Oh yeah, bro.  I do know what you mean.  Caro goes through times like that."  He raised his voice, "I'm tired, I have a headache, or it's always that time of the month and she does nothing but glare at me for a week."

 

"You've been watching too much Oprah and Dr. Phil," Jason shot back, coming around and sitting down next to his youngest brother, reaching for the thermos.  "You just tell her that as a man, you have needs that women just don't understand or feel the same way you do.  You need relief, whether she's in the mood or not.  If she's in the mood, great! You go the extra mile and make sure she has fun too.  If she's not, then you take what's yours and be done with it quickly."  He winked at John over Andrew's shoulder, "If you're not going to be the man in the relationship, baby brother, then you might as well bend over now and start taking it like a girl.  Be a man, stand up for yourself and your rights and gently, but firmly, make sure she knows who's the boss around the house.  Right, John?  I know you and I know that you and Eric have it worked out right.  He knows who the boss is, right?"

 

Taking a sip of his coffee, John forced out a deep laugh.  "Without a doubt, we've had that conversation and it's very clear in our house who calls the shots and runs the house."  He shrugged, "You have to, otherwise it gets too mixed up and that just leads to problems."

 

"Hey," Andrew said, glaring back and forth between his brothers.  "I'm not saying that I can't get some whenever I want or that Carolyn doesn't respect me or know her place.  I was just saying I can sympathize with Johnny here saying he's not getting enough."  He laughed, adding, "I mean, hell, can you ever get enough?"

 

Mr. McAllister walked over, saying softly, "If you girls are through chit-chatting and exploring your relationships, then you might want to take a look out into the field, right on the edge there, by that fallen log."

 

 

 

 

Trying not to look at the three carcasses tied and hanging upside down on a branch carried 20 feet ahead of him between his brothers, John kept his eyes firmly on the path in front of him.  The sun had burned off the morning mist and now, close to noon, the temperatures were finally starting to rise in the shade of the trees.  He unzipped his bright orange insulated vest and refocused on his father walking next to him.  Swallowing, he tried to ignore the taste of acid in the back of his throat.  His stomach had started churning not long after the lies and he was mentally cursing the stupid and juvenile competition he had gotten into with his brothers.  The friendly competition that had ruled their relationship since birth was back and this morning was no exception.  No matter what it was, no matter when it was, when the three of them got together for something, it seemed like they had to whip out the rulers and see who was bigger.

 

"It's a beautiful day," Mr. McAllister commented, glancing around.  "And I'm sure your mother will be happy with these big old toms.  It's a shame you won't be around when we cook them up next weekend."

 

John nodded, jerked out of his thoughts, "Yeah but maybe Mother can overnight me some or something."

 

"Or maybe you can come back for a visit or even better, why don't you just stay instead of going back on Sunday?"  His father glanced at him, "Your mother is having a tea Tuesday afternoon for a bunch of her friends and their daughters.  I know she'd love to introduce you to them and show you off a bit."

 

"We can't, I'm sorry." Glancing over at his father, he gave him a small smile, "I wish we could though."

 

"Well, why doesn't Eric just go back to Atlanta then and leave you here with us?  I'm sure that one of your brothers or I could drive you back home later.  And, since you don't have a job now, I'm not sure what the big rush to go back is.  Who knows, if you spend a few weeks here, meet some people you knew in school, get to know the town again, you might decide that Charleston has as much to offer as Atlanta."

 

With the mention of old friends and daughters, John finally understood what his father was saying.  He stopped in the middle of the trail in front of the older man.  "Father, I live in Atlanta now and I live with Eric.  I'm gay, that's not going to change." Making a conscious effort to keep his voice level in a way that would make Eric proud, he continued, "I didn't decide to be gay because I didn't meet the right girl.  I was born gay and I'll die gay and, God willing, I'll die still happily in a relationship with Eric.  If you want us to visit more often, I can talk to Eric and maybe we can.  I love being with our family and family is really important to me, to both of us. But, I'm never moving back here and have no interest in living like Andy or Jason."

 

Mr. McAllister looked at him and gave a curt shake of his head, "I never thought I'd see the day when having a pretty wife, a respectable job and living close to your family would be something to be despised by one of my sons.  I thought your mother and I raised you better than that."

 

"Father, that's …" John started but then stopped as he watched the other man pointedly turn around and hurry up the trail to catch up with his other sons.

 

 

 

 

"So we're sitting up on the stand," Jason said excitedly, smiling at his mother sitting across from him on the porch several hours later, "and this big old fat tom comes strolling out of the brush just as casual as can be."

 

"Not a care in the world," Andrew said, interrupting and continuing.  "So of course, Jas over there, gets all nervous…."

 

"I did not!" the other man protested, flicking a piece of piecrust in his direction.

 

Carolyn laughed and smiled at her brother in law, "I’m sure you didn't Jason.  Molly's always bragging what a great shot you are, so I know that once again, my darling husband is spinning tall tales."

 

"Do you really brag about me, babe?" Jason asked, looking up at his wife, perched on his lap.

 

She leaned down and kissed him, "Of course, I brag to everyone that I've got the best husband in Charleston."

 

Carolyn laughed, "Or at least tied for first place."  She tilted her head back to receive the expected kiss from her own husband who was sitting behind her on the porch swing.

 

Feeling the smile freeze on his face, John swallowed the rising jealousy and focused his gaze on the small vase of cut flowers in the center of the coffee table.  He jumped slightly as he felt Eric's foot gently nudge his and he turned to his lover with a small smile, scared to call attention to themselves.

 

Eric smiled and winked, nudging his foot again.

 

He smiled back, the jealous feeling instantly vanishing as they connected and almost read each other's thoughts.

 

"Eric, Caro and I had a great day too," Molly said.  "The sun was out and it was a beautiful day on the boat."

 

Jason smiled, "Good, I'm glad you had a good time."  Then, turning to Eric, he continued, "Did you like it?"

 

"It was a great time, your wife is a wonderful tour guide.  She and Carolyn told me a lot of Charleston's history when we walked around downtown after the boat ride."  He took a sip of his drink, "I'm sorry that we don't have more time to spend here."

 

Mr. McAllister drained his drink, putting the glass back on the serving tray, "Well, I'm glad you girls had fun today."

 

"If you all will excuse us," Jason said, sliding Molly off his lap as they stood up.  "We're both a bit tired and I think a nap will do us some good."  Taking her hand, he kissed it quickly before turning to his mother, "What time is dinner tonight?"

 

Mrs. McAllister smiled, "Why don't you plan on 6 this evening."

 

Jason glanced at his watch and sighed, "I don't know, I guess three hours will be enough time."

 

"Stop," Molly said with a giggle, blushing as she playful hit him on the arm.  "You're horrible."

 

Carolyn laughed too as Andrew whispered something in her ear as they both stood up too.

 

"A nap sounds like a great idea," Andrew said with a big yawn.  "We'll see you at dinner."

 

Eric looked at his lover, "Do you want to walk around town with me for a bit?  Maybe catch a carriage tour?"  Unable to resist, he added with a grin, "Or maybe go take a nap." 

 

John blushed and glanced at his mom who had just dropped the plate she was putting on the serving tray.  He nodded, "I think a carriage tour sounds like fun.  It's a great way to see things and something I was hoping we'd have a chance to do."

 

He smiled, "Sounds good, let me go get my jacket and wallet and we'll get out of here."

 

"Johnny, dear," Mrs. McAllister said as they stood up, "can you carry this tray into the kitchen for me please while your father gets the other one?"

 

"I'll meet you down in the courtyard," Eric said, walking down the steps, toward the carriage house.

 

Watching him go, Mr. McAllister waited until the house door of the piazza closed behind his wife before turning to his son with a glare.  "That was completely inappropriate, John."

 

John looked at his father and picked up the tray, "What?  Leaving?  Everyone else is going off and I'm sure that Mother would like the afternoon to do whatever she wants and knowing you, you're going to go into your office and read with your eyes closed too."

 

"Of course I don't mean that," the older man shot back with a glare.  "I'm talking about throwing your relationship in our face like that.  It was totally inappropriate and rude and I would hope that you'd tell your … whatever you call Eric, that you thought it was rude and uncalled for.  If one of your sisters in law had done something like that, I know that Jason or Andrew would have a serious conversation with them about manners."  He picked up his own tray, "I'm not going to say anything else about it, but I'm disappointed that your … whatever…chose to flaunt your relationship in our face and I'm extremely disappointed that you don't have a problem with it.  It's up to you as the man of the relationship to set the rules and guidelines about behavior, but obviously, you're not doing that.  I thought I raised you better."

 

"Sorry, Father," John said tiredly, pushing open the door to the house and carrying his tray inside. 

 

 

 

"You know," John said as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, "I caught hell from my father about that little comment of yours."

 

The Top laughed, "What the 'take a nap' suggestion?  I couldn't resist."  He gently bumped into the other man, "Sorry but all the PDA between your brothers was getting to me.  And I sort of wanted to prove that the world wouldn't come crashing down if we acted like a couple."  He shot his lover a grin, "But I am sorry that your father thought it necessary to say something to you."

 

"He implied, that if he were me and you were his wife, he'd beat you for it."  John laughed and grinned at his partner, "You know, in fact, I usually get beaten when my only excuse is I couldn't resist."

 

Bumping into him again, the other man rolled his eyes, "First of all Kiwi, I don't beat you.  Second of all, that wasn't my only excuse."

 

"But it was your main one, I know you too well Eric,"  the Brat said, struggling to raise an eyebrow.

 

He laughed at the impression and grabbed his lover's hand, kissing it as they got to the corner, "Ok Kiwi, I'll be good and not try to see how high I can get your father's blood pressure."  Reluctantly letting go as they crossed the street and headed toward the stables, he said, "So it sounds like what we saw last night with Jason is standard operating procedure for them?"

 

"Judging from today's conversation, I'd say so."  He lowered his voice, "Because you know, you just have to put the little woman in her place, show her who's the boss.  Otherwise, it's chaos and traditional roles are out of order, and the relationship suffers."

 

"And there's chaos and famine and global collapse," Eric said with a laugh.

 

John hit him gently, "Hey hon, you know, I think I actually was quoting you there."  He laughed, "You know, clearly defined roles that are best for both of us; clearly established rules and guidelines about our relationship." 

 

"Yeah, but that's different," the Top protested.

 

"How?"

 

He stopped on the sidewalk, looking at him, "Because it was something we both wanted and something that fit our personalities and our mutual goals for the relationship.  You told me that you didn't want to be in a truly equal relationship.  We discussed rules and roles and what we wanted.  Do you see Jason and Molly having that kind of conversation?  It wasn't just based on gender, like theirs seem to be.  Not that there's anything wrong with it, if both people …" 

 

John laughed, interrupting him and then quickly kissed him with a wink, "I know hon, I just couldn't resist."

 

 

 

"So Eric," Mr. McAllister said after the dishes were passed around at dinner that night.  "When John told us last night that he wasn't working any more, he mentioned that you were able to support them both fine but he didn't tell us what you did."

 

Ignoring the dig, Eric smiled, swallowing the bite of beef and said, "Under my own name, I'm a syndicated political cartoonist.  I usually draw four or five a week and then various papers or magazines buy them.  Then, I also do a daily cartoon in the comics section, but that's under a different pen name.  I try to keep the two separate.  Most people in the industry know that I write both but most regular people don't know."

 

"Oh, what do you write that's in the comics?" Carolyn asked.  "Andrew and I always fight over who gets the comics first in the morning."

 

Eric laughed, "So do John and I."  He took a sip of his wine and then said, "It's called 'The Powers that Be,' I'm not sure if Charleston's paper buys it or not."

 

Jason laughed, "Oh yeah, I know that one.  It's about the single guy with the two crazy bosses who constantly contradict each other."

 

"And his girl friend moved in awhile ago, right?" Molly said with a smile.  "Now she's pressuring him to ask her to marry him."

 

Eric laughed and nodded, "That's it.  I'm flattered that you know it so well."

 

Mrs. McAllister smiled, "It's a very funny cartoon, Eric.  It's always been one of my favorites."

 

He bowed his head slightly in her direction, "Thank you ma'am.  I always appreciate hearing that people enjoy what I do."

 

"And you actually earn enough with this to support John while he decides not to work?" Mr. McAllister said, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.

 

Breaking apart a roll while he swallowed the quick retort on the tip of his tongue, Eric nodded, "Yes sir, I make a very good living."  Then, smiling, added, "Of course, once John's book becomes the best seller his agent is sure it will be, I'm looking forward to taking a nice vacation for several months and letting him support me for awhile."

 

Andrew laughed, "I think that's a great idea, Eric."  He reached out and squeezed his wife's hand, "You wouldn't mind putting in a bit of overtime, would you honey and let me take a leave of absence for work from a few months?"

 

"Of course, as long as you promise to finally get around to building me that raised garden I want, I'll support you for however long you want."

 

Sipping her wine, Mrs. McAllister looked back and forth at her sons, "So your father tells me that you boys are going shooting tomorrow."

 

John glanced at his father, "I didn't know that."

 

"I told you this morning that I had confirmed it," the older man said.  "I made reservations for all four of us down at Greene and Greene's to go skeet shooting.  I told you last week that I was going to try to get us in."

 

Taking a small bite of his creamed spinach, he dropped a hand off the table, discreetly searching out Eric for support.  He swallowed and shook his head, "I'm sorry then but I didn't hear you or I would have told you no thank you.  I wanted to …"  He stopped with another quick shake of his head as he corrected himself.  "I'm going to show Eric around town and maybe go out to the Dayton plantations if we have time."  His voice was low and his hand was twisting, still searching under the table.  "You're welcome to join us."

 

"That might be fun," Carolyn said with a smile.  "I haven't been to Magnolia in ages."

 

Her husband glanced at her with a quick look of surprise as he swallowed some of his own dinner.  "I don't know, John, I think shooting sounds like more fun.  Eric can go with the girls to the plantations.  We'll be home by mid-afternoon.  That's plenty of time to walk around town some more.  You should come with us."

 

"Yeah," Jason said, "come bond with us men."

 

John glared at his brothers, hating their all too familiar gang up and kiss up for their father's approval.  "No, sorry." 

 

Eric shifted in his seat slightly as he sensed his lover's flailing hand and gripped it with a comforting squeeze.

 

"I'm thrilled to be spending time with you all," he said looking between his father and brothers, "but I also want to spend time with Eric showing him around Charleston.  He's never been here and I want to show it to him."

 

"So let him hang out with the girls, let them go see the pretty houses together because you have plans already with your brothers and I," his father shot back, dropping his fork heavily on his plate.  "You ignore our family, don't come home despite your mother's repeated requests, for almost two years.  And now, you come back and it seems to be for nothing more than a roof and a good meal every evening."

 

"Arthur …" Mrs. McAllister said in a gentle voice. 

 

The older man shook his hand angrily, "No Mary Alice, I'm not saying anything that we don't all believe."  He nodded in the direction of his other sons, "We all accepted it when you said you wanted to be gay …"

 

"That's not what I said, Father," John said, interrupting.

 

He continued, ignoring the interruption. "We accepted you moving away and leaving the family.  We accepted it when you brought home your …"  He paused, searching for the word, waving a hand in Eric's direction, "friend.  But now you are doing nothing but throwing your decisions on our faces.  Everything is about you and your wants."

 

"That's not true," John said quietly.

 

"That's not really fair, father," Jason said at the same time, locking eyes with their father.  "It's not that big of a deal if Johnny wants to go look at houses and stuff tomorrow.  Andy and I will go with you, maybe we all can meet up for lunch afterwards?"

 

Mrs. McAllister smiled, "I think that's a wonderful compromise.  This way we'll get to spend more time with you, John, and you and Eric will still have the morning to do whatever you want."  She took a sip of her wine and gave a tight smile, "Yes, I think that will work wonderfully.  Maybe The Garden House downtown?"

 

Giving his lover's hand a squeeze, Eric smiled at the older woman, "I think that sound wonderful Mrs. McAllister.  I certainly don't want to take John away from you all.  Visiting with you all is the main reason for this trip, after all."

 

Smiling a bit more naturally, she nodded, "Thank you Eric."

 

Mr. McAllister threw his napkin on the table next to his plate and with a loud scrape of wood against wood, pushed his chair back from the table and stood up.  "If you'll excuse me, I need to go call Bill Greene and let him know that there will only be three of us tomorrow, instead of four."

 

"Is that really …" his wife began but then stopped as he glared at her.

 

Watching his father stalk out of the room, Jason drained his wine glass in one long swallow before putting it down. He glanced at John still sitting next to him and gave a small shrug, "Don't worry about it, bro.  He'll get over it."

 

"Yeah, I'm sure," John answered, trying to sound confident.  "Here, Mother," he said standing up and picking up his plate, "let me help you clear the table."

 

"Oh no," the older woman said with a wave of her hand, "don't you worry about that.  Molly, Carolyn and I can take care of all of this in just a few minutes."  She stood up and looked at her other two sons, saying, "Maybe you boys would like to start a fire in the keeping room?  I think that will help calm everyone's nerves while we enjoy coffee and dessert a bit later."

 

Andrew stood up, with Jason quickly following suit and gave a quick nod, "Yes ma'am."

 

Watching as Molly and Carolyn carried plates through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen, Mrs. McAllister walked over to where her middle son still sat and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, patting it gently.  "Don't hate your father for being the kind of man he was raised to be.  You won't be able to change him, the only thing you can do is accept his limitations and viewpoints and learn to live with them.  Despite what you might sometimes think, he does love you very much.  Why don't you go tell him that we'll be having dessert and coffee in the keeping room."

 

John twisted in his seat and looked up at her, "Yes, ma'am. I know what you're saying is true and I'm sorry."

 

She gave his shoulder another gentle squeeze before picking up two plates on the table and carrying them toward the kitchen.

 

"Are you sure you want to go see him right now?" Eric asked, standing up as John did. 

 

He nodded, "I need to tell him what he said wasn't true and I didn't appreciate it.  I'm an adult, regardless of what he thinks and am very capable of running my life.  I might not have the life he'd pick but that's OK, he doesn't have the life I'd pick either."

 

"Why don't you give him a bit more time to cool down?  He seemed ready to lose it there for a minute."  Eric glanced at the still closed door and then pulled his lover into a hug and quick kiss, "It'll be OK."

 

Resting his head on Eric's shoulder, John held him tight, seeming to deflate in the embrace, "Just tell me that again, please." 

 

"Oh, excuse me," Molly said as she swung through the door and stopped short as she saw her brother in law.

 

Jerking away, John blushed deeply and mumbled, "Sorry."

 

"Hey, don't mind me," she said with a smile.  "Nothing to be sorry about."

 

Eric, hiding his discomfort better than John, smiled at her and gave a small wink.  "You caught us, making out in the dining room again."

 

She laughed, "Jason and I have always preferred the kitchen, personally."

 

"I'll go let Father know about dessert," John mumbled, face still flushed with embarrassment.

 

Watching him leave with a pang, Eric turned back to Molly with a smile and then picked up a bowl from the table, "Here, let me help."

 

 

 

"Father?" John said, knocking on the partially closed door to the home's library, his father's private sanctuary.

 

Glancing up from the brandy glass he was contemplating, the older man waved his son in with a neutral expression.

 

Walking into the room, he swallowed back the flood of memories of how many times he had walked into this room to face his father's disappointment and anger.  "Mother sent me to tell you that she'll be serving coffee and dessert in the keeping room in about twenty minutes."

 

He nodded, then glanced back into his brandy and gave it a swirl before sipping it again.  Nodding toward the couch cattycorner to the leather wing back he sat in, he said, "Have a seat."

 

"Yes sir," his son said quietly, walking over and perching on the edge of the dark red leather.

 

The older man took another sip of his drink before saying suddenly, "I don't hate Eric.  He seems like a decent enough fellow.  He's polite and respectful to your mother and me and you do seem clearly happy."

 

 "I'm very happy."

 

Finishing his drink with one last sip, the older man nodded once and continued, "My problem isn't with Eric, it's with you."  He eyed his son firmly, "When you came home after graduating from college and told me that you had decided to be gay, what did I tell you?"

 

Swallowing slightly, John struggled not to drop his eyes from his father's piercing gaze.  "You told me not to be stupid, that I was an adult and it was time to put away childish fantasies."

 

"Right, because that's exactly what I think this is, John.  It's a lark, maybe done to tweak us or me; maybe done to buck society and prove somehow that you don't live by society's rules.  Look at what you're doing for a living, you quit your perfectly good job where you were respected and earned an honest living because you weren't happy and have decided that you're going to be a writer."  The last word came out in a tone of disgust and hung there as he shook his head.  "You are almost thirty years old and it's time you accepted being an adult, John."

 

"I am an adult, Father," he said.  "Being gay isn't to tweak anyone.  It's not to embarrass you and it's not to show up society or anything like that.  It's just who I am and that's it."  He swallowed, feeling his stomach clench with the confrontation, saying slowly, "I'm a good writer.  I wrote throughout high school and college and even when I was working.  I've had a bunch of short stories and essays and articles published and I can make a living with this.  I'm not trying to shirk my responsibilities, it's just that my responsibilities are different than yours."

 

The older man shook his head, "I have the responsibilities that all men have and there's nothing unique about them." Ticking them off on his fingers, he lectured, "I have to support my family through the money I honestly earn; I have to serve as a role-model to that family in how we are to live and what morals we are to have; I have to love my wife and kids but also love them enough to not allow them to do foolish things that they would regret later; I have to steer this family through the ups and downs of everyday life and prevent them from being overwhelmed; and I have to be the Head of the Household, accepting all the responsibility and all the blame and shouldering it all without complaint because to falter would cause your mother distress and hurt everything we've built."  He got up, walked over to the small recessed bar and poured another splash of brandy into the empty glass before continuing, "Do you do any of those things, John?"  He held up a splayed hand showing all five fingers, "Any of those five things?  Even just one of them?"

 

His son dropped his gaze and shook his head slightly.

 

"Then how can you consider yourself a man?"

 

John swallowed, "I'm a man because that's how I was born."

 

His father scoffed, "That sounds like something a woman would say.  You were born male, you have all the correct parts but that doesn't mean you're a man.  You're a man when you act like it, when you take on the timeless responsibilities of men and don't shirk them for what's easy."  He walked back over and sat on the couch next to his son and put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small shake.  "I'm not trying to be mean or hateful here, son.  I'm trying to be honest with you and tell you how it is.  When you came to me and told me that you had decided to be gay, sure it concerned me and I believed - still believe - that you'd get through this phase after a year or so.  But the most important thing to me and I told you this, was that you still be a man." Hoping that he was getting through to his son, he paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. Then he gave John's shoulder a light squeeze, before continuing, " You can do whatever you want with Eric, but I want you doing it to him.  When you get through this phase, no matter how long it takes, you'll have to look back on your actions."  He gave his son's shoulder a light squeeze before continuing, "Looking back is a hard thing to do, son.  I've had to do it and it's not always pretty or easy.  But when you look back at this phase in your life, I want you to be able to hold your head high and know that, regardless of who you were with, you were still the man of the relationship.  You didn't bend over and take it up the ass, you didn't play the woman to another guy, you were never submissive to another guy, you stayed a man and acted liked it."

 

Not saying anything, John stared at his hands as he listened to his father's lecture.

 

 Squeezing his shoulder again, he looked at his son, "That's all I want for you and that's why it makes me so mad when I hear you talking about quitting your job because you wanted to and changing your plans with your brothers and I just so Eric doesn't have to do things with your mother and sisters."

 

"But you'd change your plans if Mother asked you to," John said softly.

 

The older man nodded, "Of course, because I want to make her happy.  But I've also established in our relationship that she's not to ask me to change plans at the last minute.  She knows better and while she's knows that she's an important part of this family and is very important to me; she also knows that respecting me and my plans are also very important.  I've established that rule for our relationship and it's worked.  Does Eric respect your time and your plans?  Or does he expect you to ask before you do anything and change your plans whenever he snaps his fingers?"

 

"We respect each other's time and plans," John said softly.

 

"Be a man, John, tell him that you've got plans tomorrow and come with us.  Show him who is the head of your household and that you won't change your plans, you won't do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.  You can't let your wife rule you like that."

 

"He's not my wife, father."

 

The older man waved his hand, "Whatever you people call each other, it doesn't matter.  He's the woman in the relationship, so he's the wife as far as I'm concerned."  Grasping John firmly by the shoulders and turning him around until they were facing each other, he looked at his son, "Be the man in the relationship, I raised you to accept nothing else.  I didn't raise you to be the woman.  I didn't raise you to take it up the ass.  I didn't raise you to be any man's bitch.  Don't disappoint me again."  Considering the conversation over, he slapped John on the back and stood up, "OK, now that we've got that settled, let's go get some dessert.  Your mother made baked apples."

 

Standing up, John wordlessly followed him out of the room, his father's words echoing through him.

 

 

 

"Yeah, right there," Eric said with a groan as he stretched his back.

 

John laughed slightly as he moved his hands firmly up and down his lover's bare back.  "You look like a snake or something, all the muscles twitching and alive."  Working on a particular knotted section and eliciting another low groan from the man beneath him, he smiled, "I don't think I've ever felt you this tense before."

 

"That's because I've never spent almost thirty six hours with your family, especially your father, before."

 

Reaching slightly behind him, John swatted one of the bare legs he was straddling.  "Be nice," he ordered with another laugh.

 

Eric laughed too and then wiggled slightly, settling deeper into the bed, spreading his legs slightly as he relaxed.  "Oh well, it's not that bad."

 

Leaning down, John kissed him on the neck, blowing on his lover's neck, smiling as the skin twitched and the man under him squirmed.

 

"Oh yeah, now that feels good," Eric said as the other man, trailing a line of kisses and small nibbles across his shoulders.  "But you know, you're causing new aches and pains that you're going to have to work out somehow."

 

"I never mind working out your aches and pains," John said as he raised himself up slightly and began to kiss down Eric's spine.  As he reached the gentle rise of his bare butt, he laughed and bit one of the checks gently, quickly soothing any hurt away with a gentle kiss and light swipe with his tongue.

 

"Oh yeah," the Top breathed, spreading his legs more.  "You're amazing, Kiwi."

 

Working his way back up Eric's spine, planting kisses every few inches, John leaned low, legs spread wide so that he was covering the other man's body.  "Let me come inside you," he whispered in between kisses, rubbing his hardening cock against his lover's butt and opening.  He felt the body beneath him tense slightly; shift slightly as he was shut out.  "I guess not," he said, sitting up, the mood spoiled as quickly as it had begun.

 

"Hey," Eric said, sitting up and reaching toward his lover.  "Don't do that." 

 

"Do what? Forget my place in this relationship?  Forget that I'm the one who is always rolling over and spreading my legs for you to use whenever you want?"  He got off the bed and stalked naked into the living room, angrily flipping on the TV, drowning out Eric's words.

 

Sitting on the side of the bed, Eric looked at him and held out his hand, saying louder, "Come here, Kiwi.  Shut off the TV and come here."

 

"Why?  So I can bend over again and just let you fuck me?" he shot back, upping the volume another two notches.

 

Eric stood up and walked into the living room area, his cock still semi-hard from his lover's touch.  "Stop," he ordered, taking the remote away and punching the power off before he tossed it onto the couch.  "Come back to bed and let's talk about this."

 

"I don't know what there's to talk about, you made your feelings perfectly clear a minute ago.  It was truly an example of actions speaking louder than words, Eric."

 

Reaching out and pulling the reluctant man into a hug, Eric kissed him, cupping his face, "Come on, Kiwi.  Come back to bed with me and we'll talk about this.  I'm sorry I reacted badly, I didn't mean to hurt you."

 

"You didn't just hurt me, you rejected me.  You told me that I wasn't man enough to fuck you."

 

"I'm sorry, Kiwi, that's not what I meant to do, at all.  Your question just took me by surprise, that's all."  He kissed him again, stroking his cheek with a thumb, "We talked about this when we first got together and you said you didn't really care about topping, that you liked bottoming.  I'm not a huge fan of bottoming, but if it's important to you, I will, gladly."  He kissed him again, "Come on, come back to bed with me and let's talk about this."

 

"You don't like standing around naked?" John asked with a small smile.

 

The Top laughed, "It's a bit chilly."  He pulled away from his lover with another kiss and held out his hand, "Come on Kiwi, come back to bed and let's talk about this."

 

 

 

Yanking back the comforter from the bed, Eric slid into the cool cotton sheets and then held out his arm for his Brat.  "Come on, Kiwi."

 

The other man slid in next to his lover and sighed as in one smooth motion he was gathered onto the other man's chest and then rolled so his back was against the wall and they were facing each other.  "How do you do that?" he asked with a chuckle.  "I weigh more than you and can press more."

 

Eric smiled and gave a shrug, "You just have to know where to put your hands."  Reaching out, he patted the other man's bare hip and smiled.

 

"Yeah, you do always like to have your hand there."

 

"Or even a bit further around," he came back with a wolfish grin.  "But tell me about tonight.  I am sorry about what happened, it was instinct, it wasn't a rejection of you or any kind of slam."

 

John ducked his head slightly, breaking their eye contact.  "It felt like it," he said simply. 

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"It felt like you were telling me that I had forgotten my place to even dare suggest that I top you.  Like you were saying I wasn't man enough or important enough or good enough to enter some sacred space and do something so submissive to you." Lowering his voice, he corrected himself, "make you submissive to me."

 

Eric forced the other man's head back up so they were again looking at each other and kissed him, "Have I ever made you feel that making love is a submissive act for you?"  His voice grew firmer, taking on an edge as he continued, "That me topping is anything more than a position?  Or that it's some grand statement on our relationship or you and your manhood?" 

 

"This morning," the Brat shot back.  "You said it yourself, you wanted to make me remember who I belonged to."

 

Eric snorted and shook his head, "That was different.  That wasn't making love; that was fucking - plain and simple.  And yes, I was using it as a statement but not about your manhood, but about our relationship."

 

"Yes, that I'm submissive to you," he said, jerking his head away from his lover's hand and sitting up so he was looking down on the other man.  "Right?"

 

Resisting the urge to sit up also, the Top nodded, looking at him.  "Yes," he said simply, then holding out his hand, he added, "Being submissive to me in the privacy of our own home, in the confines of our relationship does not mean you are submissive to the world or any less of a man.  In fact, I think it means you're more of one."

 

John snorted, ignoring the outstretched hand and crossed his arms in front of him.  "And how is that oh great, wise, lover?"

 

Ignoring the tone and the body language, he continued, "Because you're obviously not afraid to be yourself."  He looked up at his lover, meeting his eyes as he said, "You knew yourself so well, you knew where your past relationships had failed and you were unafraid to examine yourself.  You could admit to you faults and your weaknesses and you were aware of your strengths and your good points. And you were strong enough to accept them all, as simply being who you are."

 

"I had help with that," the younger man said softly.

 

The Top slid back slightly so he was leaning against the headboard, half propped up on the pillows behind him, and shrugged, saying, "Doesn't matter.  Accepting helps takes nothing away from the actual act of strength it takes to reach out for it.  You were willing to acknowledge that a traditional relationship wasn't right for you, that it didn't fit your needs.  You were willing and strong enough to go after what you wanted, risking humiliation and rejection by telling me what you needed."

 

"You did flip at first," John said quietly, uncrossing his arms and allowing them to fall limply in his lap.  "I was sure I had lost you." 

 

"It was a shock and a surprise, it wasn't something I had really never considered or at least never allowed myself to consider.  The idea appealed to me but it was that appeal that made me afraid.  I was afraid of what that said about me, as a person, as a lover."

 

Tentatively reaching out, John took his hand laying on the bed and kissed it.  "Try it from my end.  What does it say about me?"

 

"That you were more sure of yourself and had more strength than I did," Eric said quietly.  "You were willing to accept and embrace a way of life that you knew wasn't what society thought you should."  Twisting his hand slightly, he gripped his lover's hand and tugged him back down so they were laying together against the headboard.  "That's a strength and a courage that's inside you, that's what makes you a man, not a sexual position."

 

"Then why did you freak when I wanted to top?" he asked softly.

 

Eric squeezed him tightly, "Like I said, it took me by surprise and my first reaction was no.  We'd never talked about it, you'd never expressed any interest in topping and honestly, bottoming isn't something I really enjoy."  He kissed the side of his Brat's head and continued, "I'm thinking that it was the right call tonight."

 

John shrugged silently but didn't say anything.

 

"It sounds like you wanted to top to prove something.  Prove you could do it?  Prove you weren't submissive?  Prove you weren't the woman in the relationship?" the Top asked quietly.

 

"I am submissive," John said quietly.

 

"In our relationship," Eric corrected.  "There you're like the junior partner to my senior partner.  I have final say in the rules but you have input.  I have final say on discipline but you have input."

 

"You have final say on everything," John said with a laugh, kissing him.

 

Eric laughed too, "You gave it to me, Kiwi."

 

The Brat didn't say anything for a long moment before saying softly, "Yes, yes I did."

 

"Making love is different than fucking," the Top said a minute later, after giving his partner time to think.  "If you want to top when we make love from time to time, we can.  I don't hate it, it just wouldn't be my activity of choice or even something I want to do very often.  But if you want to top once in awhile, I don't have a problem with it."

 

John squeezed him, "OK.  Just so I have that option, if I want to."

 

"Yes, the option is there … when we make love," Eric said, clarifying, then paused for a moment before continuing.     "Tonight, I think would have been fucking, proving a point, making a statement."  Interpreting the small nod against his shoulder as an admission, he dropped a hand from his lover's back to his butt, "That's something I won't allow.  I would classify that as a power struggle, some sort of power game, and that's something we're not going to do.  Yes?"

 

The Brat nodded silently, blushing as the truth of his lover's words hit him. 

 

"There's only room for two people in our relationship right now," the Top continued.  "You and me.  Let's not add your father and his opinions to the mix."

 

"It wasn't my father," John started to protest and then stopped, feeling his Top's hand move slightly, heavy on his butt.  "Ok, it was mostly him."

 

"This is just about us, for us and between us." Eric said, kissing his partner, then rolling over and taking his Brat with him, straddling him and pinning him to the mattress. "What do I always say when we make love after I punish you?"

 

Blushing, John tried to duck his head but was unable to with Eric's hands in the way.  "You don't make love to children."

 

Leaning in close, Eric kissed him, his cock rubbing against his partner's cock, "I don't make love to women either." 

 

 

 

The next morning dawned crisp and clear, with blue skies that gave the illusion of a warm spring day, despite the chill in the air.  Blinking in the bright light of dawn, John shifted in bed and savored the heavy weight of his Top holding him tight.   Eric's leg was like a steel band pinning his own legs and he could feel a semi-hard cock pressing against him.  A sudden rush of memories about the last night's conversations and the two totally opposite viewpoints and expectations made him squirm uneasily.

 

"Hush, Kiwi," Eric mumbled sleepily, kissing the bare back he rested on.  "It's too early still."

 

Lifting his head slightly, the Brat looked at the clock.  "It's almost 7," he whispered.

 

"See, I told you it was early."

 

"We should be getting up," John said.

 

Eric sighed and then moved his hips so that his cock brushed across his partner's butt and kissed him again as he rolled more completely on top of the other man.  "This kind of up, you mean?"

 

The Brat laughed and wiggled his butt under the assault.  "As much as that would be nice to do again."

 

"Third time's the charm" he shot back.

 

"Try the fourth, hon," John laughed.  "But," he said, wiggling out from underneath his lover, "be serious.  They'll be leaving around 8 and I'm sure that one of them will be stomping up here looking for me."

 

Sitting up in bed and watching his Brat pad across the room naked toward the bathroom, Eric asked quietly, "Did you decide if you're going or not?"

 

John stopped half way and turned around, walking back to the bed.  Placing both hands on his partner's face, he bent down and kissed him deeply for a long moment before breaking away with a smile.  "Nothing to decide, hon.  It was never really a question for me.  There are two great plantations about twenty minutes from here that I know you'll love.  Totally different from each other but really cool."

 

"If you're sure, if it would cause less problems for you to just go with your father and brothers, then I'd understand."

 

"I wouldn't," John said simply, turning back to the bathroom and shutting the door.

 

Grinning and whistling under his breath, Eric got out of the bed, carefully straightening the sheets and remaking it neatly.  He grabbed his robe as he went into the kitchen to pour them each a glass of juice to start the day.

 

 

 

Hearing the upstairs door of the carriage house open, Mr. McAllister glanced up, scowling when he saw his son, trailed by Eric, come down the stairs.  "I take it you're not going," he said as he eyed the other man's simple jeans and sweatshirt.  "I thought it was settled last night.  You'd come with us and Eric would go with the girls to see the houses and we'd all meet up for a late lunch."

 

His middle son shook his head, "No, Father.  That's what you said and what Mother suggested as a compromise.  I said that I wanted to spend time with Eric, showing him around Charleston.  If you'd like to still meet for lunch, we'd be happy to meet you whenever."  He glanced at his two sisters-in-law and mother standing nearby and briefly smiled before turning back to the older man.  "If Molly or Carolyn or Mother want to come with us, they're welcome too.  So are you, for that matter."

 

"I have better things to do with my time than walking around old houses," he said.  "I'm disappointed that you've chosen not to spend time with your brothers and I, though."

 

"You've made the same decision, Father," John said evenly.  "I told you our plans and have invited you to come with us.  If you decide not to come, then you're deciding not to spend time with me."

 

His father shook his head, "That's not the same thing at all."  Then, after opening the tailgate of one of the SUV's, he carefully slid the gun case he had been holding inside.  "Come on boys, let's leave the women to their pretty houses.  Don't bother with lunch, we'll grab something on our own."

 

Quickly kissing his wife, Jason rolled his eyes at John and winked.  "Have a good day," he said.

 

"I'm sure it'll be better than ours," Andrew said quietly before he walked over to the driver's seat and slide in, glancing back at his wife as if wishing to stay with her.

 

With mixed emotions, John watched the SUV carefully maneuver its way out of the courtyard and onto the street.  He struggled to smile as he turned to his mother.  "Can Eric and I take you all out to breakfast or have you eaten already?"

 

The older woman smiled, "That would be lovely.  Let me go get our coats and we'll walk down to Aunt Jane's."  Looking at Eric, she explained, "They have the best biscuits and waffles anywhere in Charleston, even better than mine or Polly's, even though I'd never admit that to anyone else."

 

"I won't tell, promise," Eric said holding up 3 fingers.  "Boy Scout's honor."

 

Molly laughed as she headed back up the stairs for her own coat, "I've known plenty of boy scouts and their honor has always been a bit questionable to me."

 

Watching until they were all in the house, John turned to his lover.  "Would you think less of me if I admitted that I almost wanted to cry watching them drive away without me?"

 

Eric quickly kissed him, "No, not at all Kiwi."

 

He shook his head, "Just brought back some old memories of being left before as punishment for not doing something right or good enough."  He swallowed, "Did I ever tell you that our father would deliberately buy three tickets for events or something and have us compete against each other for them?  You know, best grade on a test or highest GPA for a term or something like that."

 

"I think that's horrible," Eric said.  "You shouldn't make brothers compete like that against each other."

 

John shrugged, "It wasn't that bad, I guess.  I don't know.  We got along and everything but there sometimes is like an edge to our relationship."

 

"Always looking for approval."

 

The other man shrugged again but didn't say anything.

 

 

 

Carefully turning the car into the courtyard, Eric again parked it behind the returned SUV.  "They're back too," he said.

 

John glanced at the car's clock and nodded, "Yeah, it's almost three." He smiled at his lover, "It was a great day."

 

Leaning over and kissing him, Eric nodded, "It was.  Thank you."

 

John blushed, "The thanks belong to you."

 

"Welcome back," Carolyn called from the piazza railing.  She waved and held up a cup, "Come on up when you're ready.  We've got drinks and food and we're just up here talking."  She glanced back into the piazza and smiled, adding, "Your day has got to be more interesting to hear about than shooting a little clay disk."

 

Andrew appeared next to his wife and hugged her, causing her to laugh and giggle, he glanced down at his brother and waved.  "Come on up, bro."

 

"How's Father," John whispered as he passed Andrew.  "Still mad?"

 

The younger man shrugged, "Who knows, who cares.  If he's not mad at you about this, he'll be mad at me about how I drove or mad at Jas for hitting 21 targets to his 18 and showing him up."  Andrew took a long sip of his drink and shrugged again. "Being trapped with him and Jas has driven me to drink," he said with a wink.  "You know, Mr. Perfect and his heir."

 

John laughed and punched his younger brother in the shoulder, "Hey, bro, no stealing.  I've got the title of Biggest Disappointment, you can't have it."

 

Andrew laughed, "How about Condemned to be the Baby?"

 

"OK, you can be that one." John nodded, laughing as he swiped the drink from Andrew's hand, draining it quickly, "And I think you should add, Terrible Taste in Drinks.  What is that?"

 

"My own special recipe," Andrew said, leading the way back to the group.

 

John made a face, "You can keep it."  Sitting down on one of the empty sofas surrounding the coffee table laden with food and glasses, he motioned for Eric to join him.

 

"So how did you enjoy the plantations?" Mrs. McAllister asked with a smile as she loaded up a small plate with finger food and passed it to her son and began to prepare one for Eric.

 

Seeing John pop a quiche in his mouth, Eric answered for them, "They were amazing, Mrs. McAllister.  Beautifully preserved, especially after I found out that they had actually moved one of them from the original position to be closer to the river."

 

 She handed him the plate.  "Yes, it's amazing to think about people doing that without the aid of all the cranes and trucks and machinery that we have now."

 

"It was nice because it wasn't crowded at all, Eric and I actually had a private tour," John said.  "It was nice to be able to talk to the tour guide and really hear what they knew instead of just the highlights like they have to do with a large group."

 

"I'm glad you girls had fun," Mr. McAllister said from his spot in the corner of the piazza.

 

Ignoring the comment, John turned to Jason, "How was your day?  How many pigeons did you get?"

 

"We had a good day," the oldest brother said.  "We all shot well, including baby brother over there.  I think he only missed a dozen or so out of the twenty five pulls."

 

Andrew flipped a small bit of cheese straw at his oldest brother, "At least I didn't get upset like a little girl every time I missed one, unlike some people."

 

Jason laughed then launched into a detailed defense of his misses and a highlight of his brother's.

 

"So, Eric," Mr. McAllister said a few minutes later, "I see that you had the good sense to buy the same kind of car that John has.  Glad to see that you're not one of these people who buy flashy cars for the looks and forgets about dependability."

 

Eric smiled, "Actually sir, that is John's car.  I have an older Honda that's getting too many miles on it, so we prefer to take his for out of town trips.  It's a great car though and when we start looking at trading mine in, I might get a Toyota too.  Maybe their small SUV, we'd like the extra space at times."

 

"Oh," the older man said, looking between Eric and John, "I just assumed that it was yours because you were driving."  Then locking his eyes on his middle son, continued, "It didn't dawn on me that Johnny would let someone else drive his car."

 

Quickly swallowing a bite of cheese and cracker, Molly said, "I drive Jason's SUV all the time.  It's great for hauling plants home from the nursery."

 

"Yes, of course," Mr. McAllister said, "but that's different.  That's around town driving and you're alone.  I'm sure you don't drag Jason with you every time you want to go look at plants."  He took a bite of a small quiche, shaking his head slightly.  “Most of the men I know prefer taking the wheel on long trips, like the one you had on Thursday and then again today.  It just surprised me, that you don't mind him driving. Or that you would make him drive.  I'd never make your mother drive like that.  It's your responsibility to take care of things like that, Johnny."

 

"I honestly like to drive, sir," Eric said.  "It's not a problem and I actually insisted."

 

"Plus, Father," John interrupted, "Eric just drove for the last hour or so on Thursday.  I was getting a headache because of the sun and didn't want to make it so bad that I couldn't visit. And then today, it was easier so I could read the map, because I wasn't sure exactly where we were going."

 

Mrs. McAllister laughed, "How could you not know where you were going, John?  You've been to those houses numerous times over the years."

 

John gave his mother a shrug, "I just forgot, I think." Carefully not looking at Eric to see his reaction to the lies, he reached for another cheese straw, aware of the silence that had fallen over the porch.

 

Draining his glass, Mr. McAllister stood up, saying, "Well, I guess I can't lie to myself any more.  It's very clear who is who in this relationship."  He shook his head and then gave a small bow to his wife, "If you'll excuse me, dear, I have a bit of work to do on tomorrow's sermon.  I've been charged with giving the lay dedication and reading during the services."  He paused at the door and locked eyes with John, "Maybe something about the prodigal son?  But at least that father didn't have to deal with his son coming home with another man and shaming his father and family by turning into a girl."  Opening the door, he walked in, shutting it firmly behind him.

 

John closed his eyes, shaking slightly and unwilling to look around the group, afraid of what he would see.  Pity or disgust would have to be the prevailing emotions echoing in their eyes and neither one was welcome.

 

"Ignore him, bro," Andrew started.

 

Shaking his head, John looked at the floor and then jerked as he felt Eric's discreet touch on his back.  "No," he said suddenly, standing up.  "I've been putting up with him the whole time and I'm sick of just ignoring his comments.  I'm sick of just excusing them because that's him."  He held up his hand as his mother started to interrupt.  "No, Mother, I'm sorry.  I can't accept it any more.  He's always lecturing me about a man's responsibilities and I think one of those responsibilities is standing up for himself and his loved ones.  He's just insulted me and insulted Eric for the last time."

 

"Hey, Kiwi," Eric said, standing up and between his lover and the door.  "Take a deep breath before you do anything, especially anything you'll regret."

 

The taller man shook his head again, "I won't regret this."  Side stepping his lover, John walked into the house and down to his father's office.

 

Eric glanced back at the group and gave a small shrug.  "Do either one of you think your presence will help this situation?" he asked the two remaining brothers.

 

Andrew glanced at Jason before shaking his head.  "Honestly, no.  I think John has a better chance of getting Father to admit he's being an asshole if it's in private.  Father would never lose face with all of us present to witness it."

 

 

 

Not bothering to knock, John opened the door and stepped into the book-lined room.  "We need to talk," he said.

 

Mr. McAllister looked up, "Is that how you were taught to enter a closed room or speak to your Father?"

 

Ignoring the comment, John sat down directly opposite the desk and leaned forward, meeting his father's eyes.  "Your comments out there were out of line.  Your comments this whole trip have been out of line and I'm sick of them.  You dare lecture me about being a man, living up to your definition of a man and you do nothing except make little snide and insulting digs at my partner and me.  You don't even have the balls to come right out and say how you feel.  You're disgusted with me being gay and that's all it boils down to."

 

His father slammed his hand down on his desk and half rose, "No, John, that's not all it boils down to."  He sat back down, struggling for control.  "You don't disgust me by deciding to be gay.  I'm not happy about it but you have to live with that decision.  I'm disgusted by you not acting like a man.  I'm disgusted by the fact that one of my sons, sons I raised to take after me, to be strong and independent, has decided that it's acceptable for him to act like a woman. It disgusts me to think about what that man," he jabbed a finger in the direction of the piazza, "what that man does to you."

 

"That's none of your business, Father," John shot back.

 

"No, it's none of my business but I can't stop thinking about what that man is doing to you!  What that man is doing to my son!"  Mr. McAllister was all but yelling as his face flushed slightly.  Reaching for the glass of water next to him, he took a sip, and then took another deep breath.  "If you would just act like a man, convince me that my worst fear isn't coming true, then I would be fine.  You can do whatever you want to him and I would be fine. But when you insist on acting like the woman in the relationship, letting him drive, doing what he wants, not working and letting him support you, I know what he's doing to you and I can't get it out of my mind and it disgusts me."

 

John shook his head, "What Eric and I do in the privacy of our own bedroom isn't any of your business, Father.  Who does what to whom is no one's business but ours.  If you're so disgusted thinking about us having sex, then I'd suggest you stop thinking about it."

 

"Does he treat you like the little woman all the time or just in bed?" his father asked with a sneer.  "Tell me I'm wrong, John.  Look me in the eye and tell me right here and now that he's not the head of the household."

 

"We don't have a head of the household," John lied, immediately regretting it.

 

Mr. McAllister hit the desk again with his palm, "Bullshit, John, don't lie to me!

 

"What do you want me to say then?" John asked holding up his hands.  "Do you want me to tell you that Yes - Eric makes all the rules in our relationship!  That he punishes me when he says I've broken a rule. Do you want me to say that Yes - I bend over for him every chance I get and I love it when he shoves his thick, hard cock deep inside my ass?  Is that what you want me to say, Father?  Does that make you feel better?"  He took a deep breath and leveled his gaze at the other man.  "You're all gung-ho for Jason and Andrew to be in traditional marriages, to have a head of the household, to have rules and make sure that their spouses know who is boss.  You say that's the only way to have a good relationship, it's the only way to make a relationship last.  That you have to have a clear leader and both people have to fully embrace their roles in the relationship, right? Isn't that what you've always lectured and hasn’t that been your whole theme these last few days, to make sure I knew all this.  Right?"

 

Not answering, Mr. McAllister simply sat there and stared at his son.

 

"Well, guess what, Father?" John said, standing up, no longer caring about the pain he was causing his father.  "I've done all that and that's exactly the kind of relationship I'm living in.  There is a head of the household, there are rules and consequences, we both know who the boss is and we've both fully embraced our roles in the relationship.  We both fully accept that Eric is the head of our household and I have never been happier.  If that makes me the woman in the relationship, if that's how you have to think of it to make sense in your closed little mind, then so be it.  Buy me a nice set of pearls for my birthday in a few months."  Turning around and not waiting for any sort of answer or reaction, he jerked opened the door and then slammed it behind him.

 

Out on the porch, Eric jerked at the sound of the door slamming.  Turning in unison with everyone else he watched as John walked back out onto the piazza and carefully shut the door behind him.  He stood up and watched his lover.

 

John glanced at him, "Hon, will you go pack our bag while I say good-bye?  We're leaving now."

 

Mrs. McAllister stood up, "John, please…."

 

"It's OK, Mother," he said softly and then glanced at Eric with a small smile and nod.

 

Flashing back a small smile, Eric hurried across the piazza and then down the steps, trying not to run back to their rooms.

 

"He's made it clear what his position is, Mother," John said with a shake of his head.  "And I did the same thing.  There's no way he's going to want me here tonight and I don't want to cause any more stress to you all."

 

"He loves you, John," she protested.  "It's just who he is."

 

"I know and this is just who I am too."  Walking over to Jason, he held out his hand, "Good seeing you again, bro."

 

Ignoring the hand as he stood up, the oldest brother pulled him into a hug, "Take care.  I'll call you tomorrow and make sure you got home safely."

 

Andrew broke them up with his own hug, "We'll make plans to come down to Atlanta in a couple of months, Caro's been bugging me about a shopping trip all winter."

 

Slapping his brother on the back, John nodded, "That'd be great.  Eric and I have plenty of room for all of you."  Hugging his sisters in law in turn, he smiled and started to relax slightly in the warmth of their support.  The sound of the carriage house door closing and Eric coming down the stairs, caused him to break away and start down the stairs, followed by the rest of the family.

 

Mrs. McAllister walked over and held out her hand to Eric, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Eric.  I'm sorry your trip has been cut short but I've enjoyed getting to know you."  She patted his hand with her other one, "Take good care of my son, now, and drive carefully."

 

"Thank you ma'am, I will," he said honestly.  Seeing that John was ready, he made his quick good-byes to the rest of the family and slid into the driver's seat of the car, starting it up.

 

Rolling down the window, John waved as the car pulled out of the courtyard and on to the street.  Unable to resist, he craned his neck, looking for some movement in the window of his father's library but saw none.

 

Eric glanced at his lover as he pulled away and turned onto the quiet main street.  Spying an empty restaurant parking lot a minute later, he swung the car in and put it in park, turning and looking at him.

 

The Brat undid his seatbelt and moved over for a hug.

 

"It's OK, Kiwi," Eric said as he undid his own seat belt and hugged him back.  Kissing his hair, he smoothed it and held him close.  "You want to tell me about it?"

 

"No," John said hoarsely, sniffling slightly.  "Just tell me again that it's OK and let's go home."

 

"It's OK," he repeated softly.  "It's all OK and I love you."

 

"Love you too."

 

"Then it's definitely all OK."

 

 

The End