No Kicking Allowed

Written By: LJ


Skyy glared at his adversary through tear-filled eyes. He wiped his runny nose on his shirtsleeve and grimaced on the repugnant after-taste in his mouth. Without giving his actions a moment’s thought, he hauled back his leg and kicked Dennis as hard as he could on the man’s left shin. His first reaction was one of self-justification, his second was shock at what he’d done, and the third was panic. He turned and fled, almost knocking Dusty down in his hurry to get out of the kitchen.

Dennis stood in numbed silence; numb with the exception of his leg, which was throbbing. He glanced down at the vomit covering his clothing and curled his lip in disgust. He was vaguely aware of the footsteps pounding up the stairs and a door slamming somewhere in the upper regions of their home, followed by running water. He had just made a huge mistake.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Dusty demanded, turning from watching his quickly disappearing younger partner and facing his older one. He screwed up his face at the sight. “Yuck!”

“Skyy vomited over me. It was a negative reaction to having soap in his mouth.” Dennis headed for the laundry room, stripping his shirt off as he walked. After starting the washing machine, he grabbed clean clothes out of a basket and began redressing.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or should I just make a wild guess?” Dusty backed out of the way to let Dennis pass him with the mop and bucket.

“Skyy wasn’t exactly truthful about an incident that took place at school, and I carried out my promise to wash his mouth out with soap if he told a lie.” Dennis began filling the pail with hot water and cleanser. “He accused me of trying to poison him.”

“Well, you know what he’s like when he gets upset about something. He kinda blows it out of proportion; like when he insisted that Dominic had stolen his blood in order to run tests a couple of months ago. He must have been frightened, Den,” Dusty softly added.

“Yeah, and I feel like an ogre!” Dennis sighed in self-reproach, taking his feelings out on the mop and practically shoving it through the floor.

“What started all this anyway?” Dusty asked as he watched the other man finish the cleanup and put everything back in its’ place.

“Mind if we talk about it later, love? Right now, I’ve got to take a shower and have a conversation with Skyy.” Dennis hugged his oldest Brat before leaving the room and resignedly making his way down the hall.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Dusty agreed and sadly shook his head.

************

Dennis leaned against the doorframe on the upstairs den and gazed at his youngest Brat with loving exasperation as he watched him rubbing his sock-covered foot. Skyy had not been wearing shoes when he’d retaliated earlier. Dennis patiently smiled into the anxiety-filled, violet-blue eyes looking up at him. Quietly closing the door, he walked over and sat down on the daybed beside the younger man. Placing his arm around Skyy’s shoulders, he calmly said, “We’ve got to something to finish discussing, don’t we?”

“Yes!” Skyy murmured. He straddled the bigger man’s lap and began toying with the buttons on Dennis’ shirt. “I know you weren’t really trying to poison me, Den.” He looked into his lover’s face to find reassurance. It was there in the warm brown eyes along with all the love, understanding and acceptance he needed. “I-I shouldn’t have kicked you!” he stammered, lowering his head in shame.

“No, you shouldn’t have! We’ll be taking care of that in a few minutes, but first we need to talk things over.” Dennis caught the sympathetic groan trying to escape his lips at the sound of Skyy’s unhappy one. “Do you know why I was washing your mouth out, Skyy?”

“Yeah, because I wouldn’t tell you who helped me write the message on the blackboard. But it wasn’t really a lie, Den!” Skyy insisted.

“It was an evasion of the truth which is the same thing, young man!” Dennis firmly stated.

“But I don’t see why it matters. I erased everything and I hafta send a letter of apology to the professor as well as write two hundred lines about not defacing public property.”

“Skyy, was Aaron by any chance your partner in crime?” Dennis inquired, trying to maintain a stern expression in the face of his Brat’s rolling eyes.

“Yeesss!” came the long drawn-out sigh of admittance. “And why couldn’t you have just asked me that in the first place. I would have answered truthfully, Den. But I didn’t want to give you anyone’s name because then I’d be squealing on a friend and I am sooo not going to do that. But I’m willing to bet money that you’re going to tattle, right?”

“If that is what you consider my informing Stephen of his partner’s behaviour; then yes, I’m going to tattle. And before you start arguing, yes I do have to!”

“I figured as much and I bet Aaron won’t be too surprised by it either.” Skyy grumbled. He whimpered slightly when Dennis gently pushed him to his feet. Knowing what was coming next, he bit his lower lip while silently putting up with the lowering of his jeans and boxers. Within seconds he was face down over his Top’s thighs and a warm hand was resting on his bare bottom.

“Why are you going to be spanked, Skyy?” came the inevitable question.

“Cause I kicked you and that is a big no-no!”

It was Dennis’ turn to roll his eyes as he slowly shook his head at how his Brat worded his answer. He lifted his right arm and brought his hand down hard in the first of many painful spanks. Skyy cried out at the first swat and continued to do so with each one that followed. Dennis heard the cries of remorse and realising his precious Brat had learned the lesson being taught, ended the spanking. He tenderly removed the jeans that were tangled around Skyy’s ankles and pulled the boxers up over Skyy’s reddened backside.

The moment Skyy felt a hand stroking his back; he scrambled up to wrap his arms around his chastiser’s neck and sob out his pain and regret. He felt himself lifted and carried over to the big rocking chair in the corner. He gradually responded to the rhythmic motion and Dennis’ litany of soothing words as his crying tapered off to intermittent sniffles. “I-I’m s-sorry, Den!” he hiccuped as he rubbed his tear-stained face against the older man’s chest.

“I know, little one. It’s over and all’s forgiven. That is, if you’ve forgiven me for making you sick and frightening you?” Dennis asked, gently kissing the damp curls of the head resting on shoulder.

“Yeah!” Skyy tiredly breathed out. “There was no way for you to know I’d throw up.” Lifting his hand, he gently patted Dennis’ cheek and sincerely said, “But I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like I did. You’d never kick me ‘cause it’s part of the agreement; an agreement that works both ways. I really blew it, Den, and I’m so very sorry!”

“We both made mistakes today, sweetheart. Hopefully we’ve gained some insight from them and they’ll not be repeated. I promise I’ll never use soap as a teaching aid again, baby!’

“So we’re okay now?”

“We’re always okay, Sport!” Dennis shook out the afghan from the end of the bed and warmly tucked it around his Brat. “How about me holding you for a little while so you can nap?”

“’Kay,” Skyy yawned, snuggled closer and fell asleep in the safety of his Top’s arms.

************

Skyy found himself alone when he awoke. He was lying on their bed in the master bedroom. He got up, walked into the en suite and relieved himself. After locating his jeans, he slipped them on. Next he headed into the hall, swung his leg over the banister, slid down to the lower floor and made his way to the kitchen.

“You all right, little buddy? You slept for two hours.” Dusty frowned in sympathy as his fellow-Brat gingerly sat down on one of the wooden chairs.

“I’m good, D. Where’s Den? He wasn’t upstairs when I woke up.”

“He’s gone to pick up some KFC for supper. Guess he thought someone would like a treat.”

“Whatcha doin’?” Skyy surveyed the engine parts and newspaper spread over the table.

“I just finished putting new gaskets on this old carburetor.” Dusty wiped his greasy hands on a rag. “So when are you planning to tell me about the trouble you got into today, kid?”

“Aaron and I wrote a large message on the blackboard in Pick-n-Flick’s classroom. A warning actually which read: Beware of flying boogers! Take precautions and sit at the back of the room!”

“Pick-n-Flick?” Dusty choked out, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Yeah, it’s Professor McGoogan’s nickname.” Seeing the confusion on Dusty’s face, Skyy added to his explanation. “But I never gave him the name. Most the students call him it behind his back. Hey man, what else would you call someone who picks their nose and can’t be bother to use a tissue?” He waited patiently for his fellow-Brat to stop laughing and regain control of himself.

“Let’s see if I can figure out the sequence of events. Den discovered your involvement and wanted the name of the remaining guilty party. You balked at naming him; he considered your not telling the same as lying and washed your mouth out causing you to throw up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you really kick him?”

“Yeah,” Skyy answered in a small voice. A blush stained his cheeks and he hung his head as remorse threatened to overwhelm him. “I don’t even know why I did it, D?”

“My guess is, you were scared and a bit pissed off, Skyy. You didn’t mean to; you just kinda lost it,” Dusty softly explained.

“But you can hurt a person bad by kicking them. Bones can be cracked or broken, especially if you’re wearing shoes,” Skyy murmured, totally unaware of rubbing a hand over his ribs.

“Come here, baby!” Dusty calmly ordered as he choked down the painful emotions brought on by Skyy’s unconscious action. Reaching over, he pulled on the smaller man’s arm until Skyy was straddling his lap. “What’s going through that complex mind of yours now?”

“He used to lose control all the time. I never wanted to be like him, but what if I am?” Skyy’s voice trembled.

“There is no way on God’s green earth that you are remotely like him, Skyy. Please trust me on this, Buddy!” Dusty pleaded. He knew without doubt, Skyy was referring to his father, Harold. A man Dusty despised with every fibre of his being. Lifting Skyy’s head, he lovingly gazed into the violet-blue eyes and saw the uncertainty. “You are one hundred percent your Mama’s son.” Dusty was relieved when Skyy nodded and a shy smile appeared on his beautiful face. Dusty leaned in and kissed his young partner.

After cuddling for a few minutes, Dusty light-heartedly commented. “Skyy, you just threw a temper-tantrum and Den handle it as such. It’s behind you, so stop fretting!”

“Humph! Tell me about it!” Skyy groused. He tentatively massaged his still tender butt as he stood up. “Thank, D. I owe ya one!”

“Good; ‘cause it seems like I’m gonna hafta collect on it right away. Den just pulled into the yard, so can you help me get this mess off the table?

“Yabetcha!”

The End.