It Doesn’t Work For Everyone

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.


“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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