This is in
response to PJ’s Challenge on WL.
Micah kicked at
the wall and groaned in frustration when his foot went through it. He stomped
instead and felt a slight lessening of the tension he was experiencing. That is
until a growled warning was heard from behind him.
“This is all
Glen’s fault!” he bitterly complained, barely managing to prevent himself from
stomping again.
“Really?” Jeremiah
questioned incredulously. “And exactly what was Glen’s part in lobbing pumpkins
into the street?”
“Jack-o-lanterns,”
Micah muttered.
“Pardon-me?”
“They were
jack-o-lanterns,” Micah explained. “And they were all shriveled up and turning
black.”
“Again I ask, what
was Glen’s part in this? Precisely what are you holding him accountable for?”
Jeremiah sat back and took another sip of his brandy.
“It’s because of
him that I’m standing here. You never put me in a corner until you saw him
doing it with TJ.” Micah voice raised an octave.
The older man
frowned. Micah was right. Jeremiah had seen for himself that what Glen referred
to as a time-out seemed to settle TJ and help him think through whatever issue
was at hand. However, it did not appear to be working for Micah.
Jeremiah realized
his Brat was actually becoming more agitated by the minute. In fact, it was
getting to the point where Micah was stressing out. He sighed and got to his
feet. “Micah, my love, come here please,” he softly requested and held out his
arms.
Micah turned and
made a beeline for comfort he knew awaited him in his lover’s embrace. He
compliantly went along with Jeremiah steering them over to the leather recliner
that sat in the far corner of the study and sat down with him to cuddle.
“I’m just not good
at staying still, Jer,” Micah murmured into the older man’s chest.
“I don’t know
about that, love. You spent many a quite hour reading in my cabin while I took
care of the paperwork.”
“That was
different. I liked being near you no matter what you were doing. I just like
you close by, I guess.”
“I was close by
here, Micah.”
“Yes, but I was in
trouble and supposed to be thinking. So it wasn’t the same at all.”
“Do you understand
why throwing something in front of a passing car is dangerous?”
“I meant to toss
it between the wheels so it would get squashed. It really makes a funny sound,
Jer.” Micah glanced up, his eyes sparkling.
“And a bloody
mess, which I believe you find a lot more entertaining.” Micah’s blush was
enough to let Jeremiah know he’d deduced correctly. The older man sighed in
loving exasperation. “Micah, these drivers can’t see you. An object suddenly
appearing out of nowhere and crossing their path can lead to a serious
accident. You wouldn’t want that on your conscious now, would you?”
“No,” Micah
reluctantly agreed, and was consoled by the tightening of Jeremiah’s arms even
as the man brought up another method for addressing the problem facing them.
“I’m of the mind
that testing this approach for helping you think has proven a total failure.
Therefore, we’ll have to go back to the tried and true method of writing lines
to assist your thought process.” Jeremiah couldn’t help but chuckle when Micah
groaned. He was fully aware of the younger man’s aversion to that particular
activity.
Micah’s penmanship
was something anyone could be proud of; concise, evenly spaced script that was
a joy to read. Unfortunately, it was more often than not rather time consuming.
“Come on, Micah.
Up you get and we’ll settle you at Glen’s desk, during which time I’ll read
while you do paperwork.”
The glare Jeremiah
received in response to his statement clearly showed Micah’s thoughts on his
Top’s idea of teasing.
Micah looked over
Jeremiah’s shoulder while the older man wrote out the sentence to be copied
twenty-five times.
‘Vegetables are
not meant to be thrown on public roads.’
“Hmm, vegetables,
huh?” Micah grinned impishly as a naughty thought entered his head.
“Let me clarify
it,” Jeremiah sternly suggested and he drew a line through the words he’d just
written.
‘It is absolutely
forbidden to throw objects of any sort into the path of oncoming vehicles, or
in any public place.’
Micah did a rapid
word count. “Hey, you more than double the amount,” he loudly protested before
realizing something of even more importance. “And forbidden means it’s become a
new rule, doesn’t it?”
“That’s right,”
Jeremiah confirmed. “Now get busy,” he firmly ordered as he made himself
comfortable in the recliner and picked up a book.
Micah threw himself
back in the chair and glared at the paper in front of him on the desk. His
bottom clenched, knowing it would be made to answer for the breaking of the rule.
With slumping shoulders and a deep sigh, Micah picked up the pen and began
writing.
The End
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