Whose Problem Is It?

Written By: LJ


Dusty wasn’t happy. He’d had a dentist appointment that day and the freezing was wearing off, leaving him with a dull ache on the left side of his face. He hadn’t felt like eating lunch and his stomach was strongly protesting the lack of nourishment. And if all that wasn’t enough, he was running late for his hair appointment and feeling beyond irritable.

He screeched to a halt in the driveway and jumped out of his truck, leaving the motor running and hurrying into the house. ‘Skyy had better be home!’ he thought. His mood was deteriorating by the minute.

“Skyy! Skyylar! Damn it, where are you?” he yelled, letting the door slam behind him. He took long strides towards the living room and met the young man coming down the stairs. “What the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to wait for me to pick you up at the university. You’re getting your hair cut, remember?”

“We only talked about it. I never agreed to it!” Skyy reminded the other man.

“Well I’ve already made the appointments and if we don’t get a move on, we’re going to be late!” Dusty shouted, his temper escalating.

“Tough! You shouldn’t have made one for me.” Skyy raised his voice and stamped his foot.

“I made it because Den said to. Besides I never heard you say you’d changed your mind.”

“I didn’t change it! I had already told you I didn’t want one. You probably weren’t even listening when we had this conversation at breakfast this morning,” Skyy explained, trying to keep his own temper in check in spite of the other man’s obvious anger. “I like my hair the way it is!”

“Yeah, but Den said your hair is too long. The last time it got cut was four months ago when I chopped it all off.” Dusty was pissed off enough to actually mention an incident both young men would prefer to forget.

“Take a hike, Dusty!” Skyy hollered.

“I’m not arguing about it! You’ve already caused me enough trouble. I’m not feeling too good and I’m sure not putting up with anymore of this shit. Now, get out to the truck!”

“No! Just go without me!” Skyy turned to leave the room as he had no intentions of complying with his fellow-Brat’s order. Unfortunately, Dusty had other ideas.

“That does it, kid! You’ve caused me a lot of grief and you’re going to pay for it!” Grabbing Skyy’s arm, Dusty hauled the smaller man over to the chesterfield. Being the stronger of the two enabled Dusty to man-handle his struggling partner over his knee. No amount of squirming and kicking on Skyy’s part could prevent one very infuriated man from rapidly landing two dozen hard swats on the seat of his jeans.

“You-you had no right to do that, Dusty!” Skyy declared as he scrambled to his feet. He stood there for a moment, glaring at the man in front of him and holding back the tears of pain, anger and bewilderment.

Dusty watched as Skyy ran out of the room and up the stairs. He heard a door slamming somewhere on the second floor as he sat there in stunned silence. ‘Oh my God,’ he thought. ‘What the hell have I done?’ He felt his chest tightening and moaned out an anguished plea. “I need you, Den. I really blew it this time, man, and I need your help to fix things.”

Knowing Dennis would not be home for at least an hour; Dusty slowly pushed himself off the sofa and went into the kitchen. He called to cancel the two hair appointments and reschedule his own, then got the bottle of aspirin off the shelf in the medicine cabinet. He poured a glass of water from the Brita in the refrigerator and gulped several mouthfuls to wash down two of the pills. He refilled the glass and still berating himself, trudged down the hall and into the study. Placing the glass on the coffee table, he curled up in the corner of the leather couch to wait for his older partner’s return. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt so miserable.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dennis parked behind Dusty’s truck and seeing it still running, turned off the motor and pocketed the key. An eerie silence greeted him when he entered the house. Where were his Brats who usually welcomed him home?

Setting his briefcase on the kitchen table, Dennis went in search of his partners. He found Dusty sitting on the sofa with his head down and his arms wrapped around his knees. The young man had a look of overwhelming sadness about him.

“What’s wrong, love?” Dennis softly inquired, taking a seat beside his partner and putting an arm around him.

“I-I….” Dusty couldn’t continue. His smoky gray eyes looked out from behind wet lashes, pleading for Dennis to make everything all right.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened, Grease-monkey,” Dennis murmured in the young man’s ear and hugged him.

“I hurt Sky,” Dusty said in a small voice and covered his face with his hands.

Taking a deep breath, Dennis patiently recommended. “Start from the beginning, Dusty, please.”

It took several long torturous minutes for Dusty to painstakingly pour out his tale of woe. “I don’t know how it happened, Dennis. I couldn’t stop myself. I really lost it, man.”

“Think about it! Did you try to stop yourself, Dusty?” Dennis asked calmly.

“I don’t know……..nooooo!” Dusty wailed out his confusion, only to find himself drawn more firmly against the bigger man’s chest. Calming somewhat, he managed to mumble. “I’m so sorry! I can’t tell you how bad I feel. I’ll understand if the little guy never forgives me for what I did to him. I didn’t hold back, Den. I walloped him pretty hard.”

“Where is Skyy now, Dusty?”

“Somewhere upstairs. He’s been so quiet. I didn’t know how to approach him so I haven’t seen or spoken to him since it happened.” Dusty was relieved to have confessed his transgression. He trusted Dennis to get things back on track.

“I’m going to check on him before we continue this discussion. Wait here, please.”

Dennis climbed the stairs and paused for a moment in front of the closed door. He knocked softly abd called out. “Are you in there, Skyy?” Not getting an answer, he turned the knob only to discover he couldn’t push open the door. “Skyy! Skyylar! Answer me please!”

“I’m here, Den.” Skyy’s voice was almost inaudible.

“Skyy, are you all right, baby?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Go talk to Dusty. I’ll be out in a little while.”

“He’s barricaded himself in the den and doesn’t want to come down yet,” Dennis informed his other Brat upon his return to the study. “Seeing as he’s all right for the moment, I think it would be best if we took care of things between you and me before I spend time with Skyy. What do you say, Dustin?” Dennis’s voice had been getting steadily firmer. The use of Dusty’s proper name was an indication of where this discussion was now heading.

“You’re going to paddle me, right? For-for spanking Skyy?”

“No! I’m going to spank you, but not for what you did to Skyy. That was a direct result of you throwing a temper tantrum and it’s the tantrum you are going to be spanked for. However, this weekend you will have lines and an essay to do about taking your anger out on someone you love. Do you understand, Dustin?”

“Yes!” Dusty answered tearfully, nodding and getting to his feet. He glanced uncertainly at the other man and seeing Dennis’ look of expectation, walked over and closed the door. Next, he reluctantly lowered his jeans and boxers before submitting to Dennis gently guiding him down over rock-hard thighs. He realized he was in for a sound spanking and although he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it, his conscience hoped Dennis wouldn’t hold back.

Dennis shifted position slightly and raised the bare backside in front of him. He landed a healthy swat on his Brat’s right cheek. It was immediately followed by another equally hard swat on the left one. Dennis continued landing one sharp smack after another, covering the entire surface. Dusty’s bottom was soon a deep even shade of scarlet, including the tender underside. The young man was sobbing uncontrollably by the time Dennis decided the lesson had been learned and his Brat’s feeling of guilt had abated. Half a dozen extra hard strokes ended the spanking as heartbreaking cries and shuddered gasps filled the room.

Dusty gradually quieted and lay limp. His hands crept around to his sore bottom and rubbed tentatively. Dennis lifted his well-chastened partner and cradled him. He wiped away his Brat’s tears and caressed his face while soothing, caressing and comforting him until Dusty was calm enough to listen. Reaching for the water on the table, he offered it to Dusty. “Here, baby.” Dennis waited until the glass had been drained before helping Dusty rearrange his clothing and gently pulling him back down to sit on his lap.

“We haven’t handled this tantrum any differently than we’ve handled them in the past, have we?” he softly inquired.

“Except you spanked harder,” Dusty accused, drying his eyes on his shirtsleeve.

“Hmm, there’s a reason for that. Do you know what it is?”

“N-no,” came the whimpered reply from the vicinity of Dennis’ chest where Dusty was nestled.

“I wanted to point out the different degrees of severity employed when I discipline you boys. I rarely use my full strength on you and I never use it on Skyy. Even the time I punished Skyy in anger, I was able to hold back purely out of habit.”

“But I didn’t, right?” Gray eyes filled again as thoughts of that earlier error returned.

“That, plus the fact that Skyy didn’t do anything to warrant it, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” Dusty agreed, tears running down his cheeks.

“And you are not the disciplinarian in this family, are you?”

Dusty shook his head and began to cry harder.

“Hey, it’s going to be all right, Grease-monkey. We’ve taken care of it and soon we’ll straighten things out with Skyy.” Dennis’ tone alone radiated reassurance and resettled the man in his arms. “But first, let’s come up with a plan to hopefully prevent this being repeated. What do you think you could have done differently, Dusty?”

“I could have left until I cooled down some. Or I could just have kept my own appointment.”

“Yes, both of those would have worked.”

“But I really should have listened to Skyy instead of jumping all over him,” Dusty shamefully murmured.

“Now you’ll know for the next time should something similar come up, right?”

“Yeah!” Dusty snuggled into the junction of Dennis’ neck and shoulder. “And maybe taking a couple of aspirin first might have helped.”

“Probably wouldn’t have hurt,” Dennis chuckled and placed a kiss on his Brat’s head.

The two men remained cuddling on the sofa for several more minutes before Dennis quietly asked, “Ready to face the world yet, love?” It was a familiar question and as always, it contained an abundance of love, forgiveness and acceptance.

“Not yet!” Dusty whispered, wiping away the last of his tears.

“We can’t keep our younger partner waiting much longer, sweetheart.”

“Can you go talk to him first without me? Please!” Dusty pleaded. He didn’t have the where-with-all to deal with the well-deserved rejection he knew he would see on Skyy’s face or with the pain and confusion there was sure to be in those beautiful violet-blue eyes.

With a final squeeze and a kiss, Dennis moved Dusty off his lap and stood up. He glanced down and smiled at his Brat’s sigh of relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier, Skyy had run up the stairs and into the small den, hurling the door shut behind him. He’d dragged the small chest of drawers over to prevent Dusty from entering the room should he choose to do so. Throwing himself into the well-padded rocking chair in the corner, he thought over Dusty’s actions and wondered why things had gotten so out of control.

“I told them I like my hair the way it is. What’s the problem anyway?” he sniffled, wrapping his arms around a large throw pillow and hugging it close to him. “It’s my hair, so how come they have to make such a big frigging deal about it?” The rhythmic motion of the rocking chair soon lulled him into a light sleep.

He woke up sometime later at the sound of Dennis arriving home. Getting up, he went to the window and holding the curtain to one side, watched as his oldest partner got out of his car, turned off Dusty’s truck and walked to the porch steps. He tiptoed over to the door and he placed his ear against it to listen. At first there was only silence. Then he heard the sound of footsteps as Dennis walked through each room downstairs in search of his partners. When all was quiet again, he went back to curl up in the rocking chair and wait. He needed more time. He wasn’t ready to talk yet.

Skyy looked up at the rap on the door and answered Dennis’ summons. “Yeah, I’m okay. Go talk to Dusty. I’ll be out in a little while.” He listened for Dennis’ footsteps to fade away and for the second time, tiptoed over to the door.

Then, as quietly as possible, he slid the dresser into its’ original place against the wall, noiselessly opened the door and stepped into the hall. When he heard the study door close, he stealthily made his way to the head of the stairs and knelt down near the top step.

Muffled voices drifted up to him, but the words were indiscernible. Time seemed to drag by before the undeniable sounds of a spanking in progress were heard. Skyy cringed in sympathy for his fellow-Brat and covered his ears.

A while later, when all had been quiet for some time; he looked down to see his oldest partner standing at the foot of the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dennis smiled up at his youngest Brat and held out his arms invitingly. Skyy couldn’t get down the stairs fast enough. Three steps from the bottom, he leaped into Dennis’ strong arms. Arms that never failed to catch him. Arms that always provided the security he wanted and needed so badly.

“We have to talk, little one,” Dennis whispered into the soft curls near his head and felt a nod of agreement from the owner of those curls. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart.” Gently placing a supportive arm under Skyy’s backside while being mindful of the lingering tenderness there, Dennis walked over to sit down on their double recliner. He used the remote control for the CD player to turn on the classical music he and Skyy found so soothing. They spent the next several minutes relaxing in each other’s arms.

“I know Dusty was mad at me ‘cause I didn’t wait for him to pick me up at school like he thought I was supposed to, Den,” Skyy pushed himself up and looked directly into the other man’s warm brown eyes before adamantly stating. “But he shouldn’t have spanked me!”

“You’re right. It is not his place to discipline you,” Dennis assured him. “Why didn’t you wait, Skyy?”

“I’ve told both of you over and over again I don’t want to get my hair cut, but neither of you guys would listen to me.”

“Skyy, your hair is too long. It’s down below your shoulder blades. I thought we had an agreement,” Dennis reminded the younger man straddling his legs.

“Well I’ve changed my mind,” Skyy murmured as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Am I correct in thinking this change of plans came about as a result of the impromptu hair cut you received in April?”

“Maybe, but I never should have agreed in the first place. It’s my hair. I should be able to have it any length I want!” Skyy insisted.

“Are you still upset with Dusty?” Dennis figured a diversion was needed to ward off any pending argument. The hair discussion could be put on hold for the time being. His partners’ relationship had priority over everything else.

“No,” Skyy shook his head as he looked down at his fingers playing with the buttons on Dennis’ shirt. He glanced up to read his partner’s expression and asked, “Is Dusty still mad at me?”

“Not at all, Sport. He knows he overstepped the boundaries. He’s hoping you are willing and able to forgive him. He’d really like the opportunity to apologize. How about it, baby?” He smiled his appreciation at Skyy’s genuine sign of willingness. The love and pride he had for his young partner was shining in his eyes. “Let’s go get Dusty. Then we’ll make something to eat, okay?” he suggested and tenderly kissed Skyy’s cheek.

“Ah, I-I’ll go wait for you in the kitchen,” Skyy hesitantly suggested.

“All right, that’ll work.”

Dennis kept an eye on his partners while he prepared soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for supper. They had decided on a light meal due to the younger men claims of not being hungry. Both his Brats were presently shuffling uncomfortably beside the kitchen counter in light of this being a stand-up meal. They had yet to speak a word to each other, as neither of them seemed prepared to be the first one to start a conversation. Dennis thought it best not to push them. He felt confident his partners would deal with their feelings in due time.

After several attempts to get some dialogue going, Dennis gave up and supper was finished in silence. A rather companionable silence, considering all that had transpired. Dennis lovingly watched the young men eat the meal placed in front of them, knowing their non-verbal communication spoke louder than words. Their love for one another would make it possible for them to move on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dennis smiled down at his young partners spooned together on the floor in the family room. They were laughing at the antics of some characters in the TV show they were watching. He hated to disturb them, but knew his discussion with Skyy had been put on hold long enough. Bracing himself for wails of indignation, Dennis plunged in and asked Skyy to join him in the study. He was pleasantly surprised when the young man promptly complied with his request.

“We still have to talk about you getting a haircut, Sport.” Dennis was mentally preparing for a battle of wills.

“Am I in trouble?” Skyy asked from where he was standing on the other side of the desk.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I’m just trying to figure out why having long hair is so important to you,” Dennis patiently explained.

“But I don’t know why. I’ll probably never be able to explain it to your satisfaction or even my own, for that matter,” Skyy pointed out. He was getting more than a little frustrated, not to mention fearful of losing his temper. Dennis had already illustrated this afternoon what happens when one of his Brats threw a temper tantrum. Skyy wanted to avoid participating in a repeat demonstration.

“I can’t understand why you’re having such a problem with this, Skyy.”

“But I don’t have a problem with it, Dennis!” Skyy wailed, just barely preventing himself from stamping his foot.

“Well who do you think has a problem with it, young man?” Dennis inquired, getting to his feet.

“You do, Den! It’s your problem!” Skyy turned and ran out of the room, leaving a rather thunderstruck Top standing with his mouth opened.

“What was that all about?” Dusty asked, walking into the room and looking over his shoulder at a quickly disappearing partner.

“His hair!” Dennis heaved a sigh and dropped heavily into his chair. “I seem to be missing something here,” he softly complained and ran his fingers through his own short, brown hair. “What have you got there, love?”

“Just Skyy’s picture album; the one his family put together for his birthday. I’ve been busy and haven’t had the time to look at it closely until now. By the way, here’s your newspaper. I paid the paper boy, so you owe me five bucks,” Dusty informed him, tossing down the Evening Journal and causing it to spread out over the top of the desk. He laughed off his partner’s complaints, walked over to the couch and lay down on his stomach. His sore backside wasn’t in any condition to withstand prolonged periods of sitting. He made himself comfortable and started going through the pages that yielded up yet another glimpse into Skyy’s childhood.

“Hey, that’s my paper you’re throwing around, Brat!” Dennis scolded as he gathered the various pages and put them back in order. An inside headline caught his eye. ‘Convicted Murder’s Life-in-Prison Term Ends After Eighteen Years.’ Curious to see what had attracted his attention, Dennis leaned back in his chair to read the article. “Oh my God!” Dennis uttered as memories from the past came rushing forward.

“Whaaat?” Dusty frowned his annoyance at being disturbed.

“This story!” Dennis jabbed his finger several times on the paper in front of him. “It happened years ago. There had been the slaying of several teenage boys in the town where I grew up. The last victim lived in our neighbourhood and attended the high school near our home. His body was found in the alley behind our house. A couple of ten-year-old boys made the discovery. It was summertime and I can still picture him; half naked with dirt and blood everywhere. Even his long hair and face were covered in it.” Dennis’ heart rate was accelerating and he was finding it hard to breathe as he relived the events surrounding the crime, the clues leading to an arrest and the trial ending with a conviction. “He had been beaten, raped and strangled. It had been the talk of the town for months. The authorities are letting the SOB who killed him and the others out on some technicality.”

“You mean someone was murdered near the house where your parents live?” Dusty asked in a small voice, having picked up his partner’s growing distress.

“Huh? Ah, no!” Dennis answered in a distracted manner. “The Bank my father worked for transferred him to another town a couple of years later.”

“Did you know any of the boys who were killed?”

“Not personally! They were all in their teens and older than I was at the time.”

Quickly doing the math brought a unsettling scenario to Dusty’s mind. “Dennis, were you one of the kids who found the last boy?” Dusty whispered, very much hoping his suspicions were wrong.

“Yes!” came the feared answer. “But I’m not sure if we actually realized he was dead. I seem to have forgotten a lot of the details surrounding the incident.” Both men sat quietly for several moments, dealing with the emotions this disturbing knowledge generated.

“I wonder if there could be a connection between that event and your dislike of Skyy’s hair being so long,” Dusty murmured.

Dennis looked up in surprise at the observation. “You may have hit on something, love,” he quietly commented.

“Skyy’s right,” Dusty sadly remarked. “Holy shit! Who’d of suspected the long hair hang-up was yours, not his!”

“Language, young man!” Dennis admonished more from habit than conscious thought as he refolded the newspaper.

Dusty lowered his eyes at the reminder and for the first time noticed something he should have picked up on earlier. He got to his feet, took the album over to the desk and laid it down in front of his partner. “Look at this, Den!”

Dennis glanced at the pictures and turned a quizzical gaze up to the younger man. “I don’t get what you’re trying to show me, babe.”

Turning back the pages, Dusty pointed out. “See these pictures of Skyy when his mother was alive? He has long blond curls just like her. Now take a look at his school pics after she disappeared. His head’s been completely shaved.” Dusty gently ran his fingertips over the pictures. He felt his heart breaking as he gazed into the sad little face staring back at him. “No wonder he hates having his hair cut!” he muttered bitterly. “After what that son of a bitch did to him!”

Dennis didn’t bother scolding the other man about his language this time. He was also experiencing the same chest-constricting pain that Dusty was. “Let’s go see what our little guy is up to,” Dennis softly suggested.

They found Skyy relaxing in the whirlpool tub, listening to the radio. He didn’t realize he had company until Dennis removed the headset and handed it to Dusty to return it to the bedroom.

“You shouldn’t have electrical equipment in the bathtub,” Dennis said and smiled to let the young man know he wasn’t in trouble. He bent down and pulled the plug. “Out you come, Sport!” he said as he placed his hands under Skyy’s arms and lifted the smaller man out of the water. Wrapping a large bath towel around him, Dennis seated himself on the toilet seat and drew Skyy down onto his lap. He was so grateful for partners who willingly submitted to his caring for them in this manner. He often used the hands-on approach as a means to reconnect and sooth hurt feelings.

“Dusty figured out who has a hair problem, little one.” Dennis informed his youngest Brat while gently drying him.

Skyy looked expectantly from one man to the other. First up at Dennis’ smiling face and then over at Dusty’s ear-to-ear grin. He waited patiently for one of them to tell him.

“You both have a problem, Buddy. Dennis gets hung up over long hair and you shy away from short hair. Both with just cause, I might add.” The older men took turns explaining how Dusty had reached his conclusions while Dennis blow-dried Skyy’s hair.

“You can keep your hair anyway you want, sweetheart. I promise never to mention cutting it again. Cross my heart!” Dennis laughingly declared as he drew the appropriate sign on his chest. When he finished drying Skyy’s hair, he pulled him closer and deeply breathed in the clean fresh scent of his lover’s golden curls.

After kissing the bigger man, Skyy wriggling his way out of Dennis’ embrace and ran over to where Dusty was leaning against the door frame of their en suite. The towel slipped to the floor as he threw his arms around his fellow-Brat’s neck. “You’re the hero this time, D!”

Dusty considered having a naked Skyy in his arms ample reward.

The End.