Snowbound

Snowbound 

Season 1, Episode 1

Ryan steered an overly energized Blade to the exit gates. It looked like their flight was the last one to get off or land at JFK airport. He couldn't remember Burlington ever being so busy. It appeared the snow storm that was just starting to build up when they left the City had turned into a total menace. Most of the flights from Europe were being redirected to the Vermont airport, and the relatively small airport was not built for this kind of flyer influx. Moving through the crowd was a slow process. Ryan was glad a car was waiting for them because finding a cab would be out of the realm of possibility.

"Unbelievable," a young, good looking brunet muttered right beside him, jabbing his phone buttons angrily. "Johnny?" he said frantically into the phone. "God, Johnny, I'm royally screwed!"

Ryan didn't mean to listen in, but it was quite impossible not to hear the conversation while walking only inches away from the brunet. Blade beside him looked more distracted. The boy was bouncing up and down, full of his usual energy. Ryan kept a firm hand on Blade's shoulder, making sure he didn't climb over people in his hurry to get to the resort.   

"No, we landed in Vermont of all places. They say the roads are impassable; there is no way I'm getting to New York on time for the meeting, and the imbeciles from Garland refuse to reschedule," the delicate looking brunet exclaimed. "What? Yes, I am aware that an American law firm also represents the client on this case, but if the settlement fails and we end up in court, the proceedings will take place in the UK, which means I will be the only one responsible for the outcome. I cannot let them screw up anything during the settlement." The young man fell silent, listening intently and then exploded, "John, I do not have time for your games! Find me a way to get to New York on time." The demand was made in a tone of man used to being obeyed and his whims catered to.

For some reason Ryan felt his palm itch with a desire to smack some respect into the boy. Ryan looked the man over. Why was he thinking of this man as a boy? Nothing exactly screamed submissive about him. Of course once one had met Landon, such details became inconsequential. What happened next, made Ryan smile covertly to himself. His gut wasn’t wrong after all.

The brunet had fallen silent for a couple of seconds, and an intense blush was starting to build up his neck and cheeks. "Yes, sir," he muttered almost inaudibly. "OK, I understand," he murmured shyly and then added, "but, Johnny, I'm not sure I can find a hotel here. It's crazy; there is no way I can find a cab or a room for tonight. I'll just wait for you at the airport."

Ryan looked over at Blade, who was all of the sudden very tuned in with their neighbor. Blade looked at the brunet and nudged Ryan's shoulder, giving him a pointed look. Yes, just like Ryan, Blade had no intention of letting his fellow submissive spend who knew how many hours alone on hard airport chairs while waiting for his dominant to arrive. Ryan simply waited for the brunet to finish his phone call before interfering.

"Are you sure you can get here from Montreal? The roads might be closed in that direction too," the man murmured softly; his demeanor completely changed. "OK, yes, I'll try to find a place, but finding a boat during the Great Flood had to have been more feasible. Johnny?" he said almost inaudibly, "I've missed you, you know." Whatever the other man said made the brunet smile a dazzling smile.

The man put his phone away and took a deep breath. He looked around with a clearly lost look on his face, and Ryan saw it as his opening.

"Hi! I'm Ryan," he said, extending his hand to the bewildered looking man. "And this is Blade, my partner," Ryan said, pulling Blade against his chest.

"Richard," the man said, blinking his emerald green eyes in surprise. The firm and sure handshake belied his delicate and even vulnerable appearance. This man was used to being in control.

"I accidentally overheard your conversation on the phone. If you are looking for a ride and a place to stay, we will be happy to help you out. We are heading to meet with our family and friends at a private resort," Ryan clarified. "We would be glad if you’d join us," he finished with a reassuring smile, realizing that when a massive stranger invites you for a car ride and a stay-over most sane people would immediately turn around and run. The brunet didn't look like the running type, though.

"Oh, you are most generous, but I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. Besides, if it's a resort, I'm sure it's already full." The petite brunet still looked surprised and confused.

"Richard, if there was any inconvenience, we wouldn't have extended the invitation. The resort is a private one; the access is by invitation only," Ryan said casually.  

Richard looked at him with a sweet, sheepish smile, "All right then." He started walking again, pulling the small luggage trolley after him. "You guys are life savers." The smile he gave them was genuine and warm.  

"Our pleasure, Richard," Ryan said good-naturedly.

"Call me Rick, please. Could you give me the address of the resort? My partner will be joining me," Rick explained earnestly. "And we will pay whatever the costs," he hurried to add, before Ryan could say anything.

Blade snorted loudly at the last comment, "Yeah, good luck with paying for the room. It's for family and friends; there is no charge for that."

"I can't possible accept that, please!"

"Richard, Rick," Ryan corrected himself. "Let's get to the warmth and comfort of the house and get your partner safely off the snowbound roads, and then you can argue your case with the fine owners of the resort, if you still feel like it."

"Argue?" Blade asked incredulously. "With whom? With Landon or Gordon?"

"Blade," Ryan said with a slight reproof in his tone.

"What? I'm just giving him the heads up," Blade said, beaming in a combination of innocence and mischief only that boy could pull off.

"That's enough, Blade." Ryan's tone was a lot sharper the second time, and Blade responded to it immediately, lowering his eyes, his lush eyelashes casting long shadows over his fair cheeks. His boy wasn’t the only one. There was a slight twitch in Rick's body, and he stole a quick look of scrutiny at the both of them. Oh, yes, the boy clearly recognized that tone.

By the time they’d reached the car, Rick had texted the address to his partner and was busy making phone calls and discussing business. Ryan considered the man once more. His gut feeling that had first alerted him to the fact that there was a submissive in front of him was still there, even though outwardly the man's appearance and bearing was more suited for a dominant. It was an interesting mix. It felt like there were two different personalities residing in one body: one hidden and one apparent. Ryan was curious what Landon would make of this man. After all, there was no one better at reading people than Landon.       

****

Rick couldn't say for sure how long the car ride took. He was busy talking on the phone all the time, threatening, cajoling and bribing people until he got his way. The settlement talks were postponed for three days. That gave Rick enough time to walk to New York if he had to. Postponing a meeting that was hard to settle to begin with was more difficult than seemed possible at first. However, he wasn't one of the most sought out solicitors for no reason; he knew how to get his way.

With the imminent disaster averted, Rick felt himself relax and submerge into the leather seats of the luxury car. Whoever these men were, they were very wealthy. Rick studied the duo carefully. The giant blond who had approached him was almost as big as John, which made him stick out in every kind of crowd. The guy was also very muscularly built, but he didn't have the same edge as Johnny. There was power and strength behind that ready, sweet smile, the sparkling gentleness of the blue of his eyes, but there was no sense of barely controlled violence that Johnny emanated.

Oh, God how he missed Johnny. He had left for a conference in Montreal almost a week ago. They were supposed to meet up in New York and return home together, but winter had other plans. Rick mentally shook his head clear of thoughts about Johnny. He was on the verge of breaking down if he kept dwelling on how much he missed his dark Neanderthal. He looked back at his two hosts. The smaller guy was a sight to behold. He was outright gorgeous, not that the blond wasn't a looker, but Rick went for dark and dangerous, so the fair giant wasn't exactly his type. The redheaded and emerald-eyed beauty wasn't exactly Rick's type either, but he surly could appreciate it. They didn't look rich or successful though. Rick had a sixth sense for grading and rating people; those two looked like they had common origins and weren't exactly wandering off from their humble beginnings. If he would have to guess, he would put them in a domain that demanded a close contact with youth. Of course the internet billionaires these days looked slightly more presentable than your average homeless guy, but those two didn't have that appearance either. This baffled Rick because the car was clearly something only those who made it to the Fortune 500 could afford. Maybe Johnny would have done better reading those two; he was the real expert after all. Johnny was a real mind-reader; Rick envied him for his skills. If he could develop that level of expertise, he would be unstoppable.

Blade was whispering something to Ryan. The giant looked fondly at the redhead and smiled an indulgent smile at him. Rick's gut contracted at that smile and the protective arm casually draped over the smaller man's shoulders. Rick closed his eyes and sank back, numbing his mind to the extreme pain of John's absence.

It looked like the seven hour flight had caught up with him; Rick had dozed off. He woke up when the car came to a stop.

The mansion that greeted him was impressive. Rick had grown up around extreme wealth. He had refused to partake in it since the day he was old enough for such decisions, but he knew how to recognize it. Rick gritted his teeth, an involuntary gesture from his childhood. Luxurious manors tended to set him on edge, too much of his dear old grandparents in those places. It usually brought out the stroppy and angry prepubescent boy in him.

"Rick, we're here," Ryan said, pulling the door open for him.

Rick realized he had lingered too long in the car. He gave Ryan an embarrassed smile and said, "Sorry, I think I nodded off. I'm not very great with long flights; I get restless. The car ride was lulling,and I napped, apparently." Why did he feel the need to blabber his heart out to this guy?

"Come on, let's introduce you to the rest of us," Blade blathered, looking like he was the inspirational model behind the Energizer Bunny.

Ryan tried to help Rick with his luggage, but a murderous look from Rick had Ryan stepping back with hands held out in surrender and an amused smile on his lips. Rick lowered his eyes, embarrassed beyond reason. He hated when people regarded him as helpless and attempted to give him a hand, but he usually didn't react so frankly to it, especially not when people were just trying to be helpful. There was something about Ryan that set Rick on edge and he wasn't sure what.

The house was just as luxurious and imposing on the inside as it was from the outside. A gentlemen greeted them at the entrance, engulfing both Ryan and Blade in his arms. Rick furrowed his forehead in concentration. He knew this man from somewhere. He studied the man with interest. Now this was a man who could own this house, as well as the car.

"Rick, this is Landon," Ryan introduced Rick to the older man, and Rick breathed out in astonishment.

"Landon Graves," he said in awe, extending his hand for a firm shake. How could he not have recognized the man? This was the Landon Graves. If there was anyone more influential than him on the financial markets, it would only be Gordon Lewis, partner in business and in life.

"Nice to meet you, Rick. Although I believe we have met already." Landon smiled a slightly crooked smile that gave him a boyish appearance despite his respectable age.

Rick must have looked absolutely baffled, because Landon, who was still holding his hand, pulled him inside the house and laughed out, "Three years ago, my partner Gordon and I were awarding prizes for outstanding young European professionals. I believe you were awarded the legal prize."

Of course! Rick could smack himself. He never realized that the man would remember him, but that was no reason to look like a drooling and blabbering imbecile.  

"It's really nice to meet you, sir," Rick said, regaining his composure. "I don't believe we were formally introduced back then, so this counts as an actual introduction." He smiled the sure and ready smile he reserved for board-meetings and negotiation rooms.  

"I'm not the sir around here," Landon said laughingly, cutting off Rick's barely gained footing.

As if things weren't confusing enough Blade shot deeper into the hallway and hollered loudly, "Lucy, I'm home!"

Ryan planted a sharp smack to Blade’s behind, and Rick had to hold onto himself not to jump out of his skin.

"Blade, manners!" The voice was a crack of a whip, the tone and aura of it so close to Johnny's that Rick in his longing for Johnny almost hit the floor. His cheeks burnt with embarrassment when he realized what he almost did.

The man, who had spoken the words, was older than Rick, but not in the same generation as Landon. He was powerfully built, but his real strength was the one that poured out from within. Rick swallowed hard as he met the man's eyes.

"You are lucky Gordon is out of earshot, or it would have been more than Ryan's hand," the man said, the words sharp daggers, his eyes trained on Rick instead of Blade.

Rick was already disliking this man. Rick purposefully turned his gaze away and looked at Landon.

"I'm very grateful that you have extended your hospitality to me. I don't know what I would have done if not for Ryan's generous offer," Rick said sweetly, making a point of ignoring the other man, who was boring a hole in his skull with his eyes.

Landon shook his head dismissively, "You should thank Milton; he is the master of the house." Landon finished his sentence with a small wink that could have meant any number of things.

"I'm Milton Brown, and we all are happy to have you here." The man's hot voice reverberated off the walls.

Rick forced himself to shake hands with this man, making a point of squeezing his hand harder than usual. "Thank you Mr. Brown," Rick uttered from between his teeth. He would be damned if he would call this man sir.

"Just Milton is enough. Blade, escort our guest to his room." He turned to look at the young redhead.

Blade pouted and looked at Milton, saying childishly, "You didn't even hug me."

Milton clicked his fingers and pointed to the hallway, "Blade!" It was all he said and the redhead broke into a broad grin and winked at an astonished Rick, motioning for him to follow him.

The last thing Rick heard was Landon's voice saying in a slightly hushed tone, "Well, Ryan, you are getting almost as good as me at finding them."

Finding who? All this was too bizarre for Rick's tired body and mind. No, he was certainly seeing things.

The redheaded Energizer Bunny led him into a very tastefully decorated and large room.  

"Here you go. If you need anything, just come find us in the family room. It's just down the hall from the main entrance. You should be settled with everything you might need to clean up and relax a bit. Dinner will be announced, but it will most likely be at six," Blade recited dutifully, his hands held behind his back, feet planted wide.

Rick had seen Gregory stand like this. Rick felt his jaw drop. This man was a submissive. Blade gave him a bright smile and slipped out of the room before a flabbergasted Rick could say anything.

Rick shook his head, trying to clear his mind. No, he surely was hallucinating. Perhaps he was missing Johnny so much that he was seeing dominants and submissives all over the place. Yes, that was it.

The phone call startled him. It was Johnny. Rick felt his throat tighten. Lord, he wanted Johnny here.

"Hey, angel," the soul scorching voice of his lover breathed into his mind.

"Hey," Rick said fondly, collapsing on the bed. "When will you be here?"

"In an hour at the most, beautiful. Are you all right? You sound out of sorts," Johnny asked, the frown clearly audible in his voice.

"I'm fine. It just looks like I have slipped through the rabbit hole and found myself in Wonderland," Rick said, snorting.

"Yea? Did you happen to follow a rabbit," Johnny asked with good humor.

"Yes, close enough, I followed the redheaded Energizer Bunny into Wonderland," Rick said, shaking his head.

"Did you bump your head during the landing, baby," Johnny teased.

"Oh, shut up and get to me already."

"Behave, brat, and make sure you are not terrorizing our gracious hosts." The rumble of John's voice was so hot and full that Rick felt his groin tighten with anticipation.

The phone clicked off and Rick was left alone in this strange winter Wonderland.      

****

The nimble fingers that were playing with his hair shot tingles down Rick’s spine, making him feel warm and content. Rick wasn't sure when he’d fallen asleep. As a matter of fact, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, not until the clever fingers had set him on fire with their lovely play. Still half asleep Rick inhaled deeply and stretched with his entire body. When he opened his eyes he was met with the greatest view in the world, the deep blue of his man's eyes. Johnny was sitting beside the bed, his fingers carding Rick's loosened hair, lips curled in  a tender smile, his eyes showering Rick with pure love. Tears sprang to Rick's eyes, his insides roiling from the intensity of the myriad of feelings that burst in his heart.

"You're here," Rick murmured, looking at John like lovesick puppy, drinking in his appearance, taking in every detail of the beloved face. He didn't dare touch John, fearing that it might just be a dream and he would disrupt the fantasy.

John just smiled and bent down, claiming Rick's lips in a slow, thorough and soul binding kiss that left Rick breathless and lightheaded.

"When did you arrive?" Rick asked, tracing the outline of John's face with a gentle finger. He couldn't force his eyes off his man. Lord, Rick never knew you could love someone that much.

John's smile was dazzling and all-consuming. "About an hour ago," he said in that growly voice that never failed to arouse in Rick an urge to whimper and turn belly up.

"An hour?" Rick pouted, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You looked exhausted, angel." John bent down for another kiss. It was just a peck this time. "You need to get up, beautiful," Johnny said, extending his hand for Rick.

Rick grabbed John’s hand and tugged it to him, "Nooooo, you need to get in." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Johnny chuckled and pulled Rick up with virtually no effort. "We are expected for dinner," he explained, propelling Rick to the bathroom.

"I'll get dinner after I sate my other cravings," Rick said seductively, swaying his hips indecently as he walked to Johnny, pressing himself into his hard body.

The slap to his bottom made Rick's cock jump up at attention and beg for release. He whined and pressed closer, sticking his bottom out for more attention.

"Brat, behave," Johnny said with his hands roaming over Rick's ass. "Come on, we can't be late for this."He tried once more to push Rick in the direction of the bathroom.

"It's just dinner, Johnny," Rick whined petulantly. "It's not exactly a business meeting."

"Rick, do you even know what you have walked into, or more accurately where?" John asked, amusement and slight worry tinting his voice.

Rick looked at him uncomprehendingly. "Do you mean the fact that Landon Graves is one of our hosts?"

"Well, yes, that too," Johnny said, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "Rick, have you ever heard of the Green Mountain Boys?"

Rick shook his head.

"All right the short version is these man, all of them, they live in the same kind of relationship we do." Johnny said in one breath and looked at Rick as if he was watching a bomb with a timer closing in on zero.

Rick looked at Johnny with suspicion. "Are you telling me Landon Graves, the Landon Graves is a dominant? Not that it should surprise me, the man is the epitome of power," Rick said with awe.

"Well, actually angel, Gordon is the dom."

"Gordon? You mean Gordon Lewis is here?" Rick asked, sidetracked by the idea of meeting Gordon Lewis in person.

"Rick, he is Landon's partner," Johnny said meaningfully, keeping a keen eye on Rick.

"Well yes I know that, but they don't have to be joined at the hip. Shit, Johnny, do you realize what kind of opportunity this is? To meet both of them," Rick said excitedly, completely forgetting about doms and subs.

"Rick, you are not turning this into a business venture!" Johnny said sharply.

"I'm not! Our firm is already doing business with them," Rick said pointedly. "They are the absolute authority on the financial markets. Don't you understand that? I'm just excited I can spend time with them," Rick insisted.

"All right, fine, Rick, but don't forget this is their retreat; don't turn this into a full throttle campaign."

Rick rolled his eyes once more. He had a new incentive to get ready for dinner, Landon Graves and Gordon Lewis, both of them at the same table.

"So you know them from where?" Rick asked as he walked into the bathroom to make himself presentable.

"I don't know them, Arthur does. As I mentioned they are in the lifestyle, and Arthur keeps in touch with the more prominent organizations in the lifestyle. I just know about them from Arthur," Johnny explained, following Rick into the bathroom.  

"Rick, Gordon is a very strict and powerful dominant. At least that's what Arthur says about him, and Arthur isn't very generous with his appraisals."

"Figures," Rick said calmly. Gordon was a force of nature in the international business world. Rick respected that kind of power and strength. This was different then meeting a random dominant with nothing behind him to support his claim of dominance. Gordon had  the right to boss people around. Not that Rick had any intention of letting himself being bossed around. He knew how to handle this kind of man. "So how does it work? Two dominants together?" Rick asked, looking at Johnny’s refection in the mirror as he braided his hair.

"Landon is a sub, Rick." Johnny looked amused. Well, he should be, making silly jokes at his age. Rick rolled his eyes, saying nothing. "Rick, I'm serious, he subs for Gordon."

Now Johnny was being serious and Rick froze. He turned around and looked at Johnny. "You are serious. How can that be? I mean have you seen the man?"

John took a deep breath and walked closer to Rick; he pulled Rick to his chest and kissed him on the top of his head. "Yes, Rick, just as I have seen you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rick demanded vehemently.

John sighed and turned around, exiting the bathroom. "It means you will be on your best behavior. No baiting the multitude of dominants present at dinner." John's tone took on a sharper edge at the end.

"You don't have to worry about that. Richard Masters is well versed in dining with powerful men, Johnny."

Johnny jerked Rick by the hand and turned him around to look him in the eye. "You are here not as Richard Masters. You are Rick, my beloved submissive," Johnny said in an adamant tone.

"Get over yourself, Johnny. I'm not going to grovel at your feet just to stroke your ego around your dominant buddies," Rick spat venomously.

Johnny straightened his spine, looking down at Rick with darkness weighing heavily in his gaze. "Come here," he ordered sharply.

"Not happening," Rick insisted defensively. "These are Gordon Lewis and Landon Graves we are speaking about. I'm not going to humiliate myself in front of them." Rick's voice rose almost to a scream.

The swats where shockingly accurate and heavy, but hardly unexpected. The spot where Johnny's fingers dug into Rick's biceps to hold him immobile were surely to bruise. Rick was left breathless and shell-shocked after the brief encounter.

"Take off my belt," John instructed, letting go of Rick's hand.

Rick shook his head, not daring to reinforce his disobedience with words.

"Ricky, take off my belt and give it to me. Do not make this worse. It looks like you need a reminder that my will is law, and I'm going to give it to you."

With shaking hands Rick undid John's belt and pulled it out of the loops. During the past week there hadn't been an hour in which Rick hadn't fantasized about doing this, but with an entirely different outcome. With the belt free of its confinement, Rick handed it to Johnny.

"Pants down and over the bed." John's orders were short and precise. Rick hated the steel in his voice.

Obediently bent over the bed for a licking, he was acutely aware of the fact that Richard Masters, the well known solicitor, was not part of the equation.

The belt came down making Rick gurgle from the burst of fire on his skin. Rick collapsed under the intensity of the pain. Johnny was using the belt the same way he had used the strap. It was like being branded with a hot iron. Rick broke down into sobs in an instant; whatever resistance was left had melted without delay. The second stroke made Rick scream and climb over the bed to escape the punishing licks. John caught him by the ankle and dragged him back.

"Please, please Johnny, not like that. I can't," Rick blabbered without any concern over whom might hear or whether it was becoming of a top tier lawyer. He twisted around, protecting his battered ass from a new assault, pleading with John with his eyes as much as his words.

"Turn around, Rick." There was no trace of compromise or warmth in John's eyes, and it broke Rick down. He’d missed Johnny so much, and he’d ruined it in fifteen minutes. He wanted to obey, but the belt was dreadful. Rick just curled into himself and cried.

Johnny pulled him to the edge and turned him back onto his belly. Rick didn't fight. John's hand on his back was comforting, despite his foreboding appearance a second ago. It rubbed Rick's back gently for a second, before the belt was back, one time, two times. Rick felt like his heart was going to stop. It was all over and he was in the safety of Johnny's arms, crying and painting Johnny in snot and tears.

Johnny kissed Rick’s sweaty brow and rubbed his back until Rick was able to breathe without any outrageously ridiculous sounds. Johnny then laid Rick back onto the bed and took his member into his mouth. Rick whimpered and tried to shy away. He really didn't want to be touched anywhere in the vicinity of his ass.  

"Johnny, I don't want to, please," Rick rasped out, trying to push John's head up.

Johnny looked up at him, eyes piercing and dark. "You can't refuse pleasure from me anymore then you can refuse pain, Rick. Submit," he said simply and got back to sucking Rick, pushing saliva covered finger into Rick's ass, making him whimper. Strangely enough, it didn't take Rick long to come, and when he did it was earth-shuttering in intensity.

 He was shuffled to the bathroom once more; washed and patted dry, hair re-braided and dressed up.

When they reached the door,  Johnny grabbed the handle and Rick crumbled.

"Johnny, I can't. I can't, please," he pleaded with Johnny, begging him to understand. It was incomprehensible to present himself in front of two of the most powerful men in the business world as meek submissive at a dominant's feet.  

John rounded on him, pulling Rick's face up to stare into his eyes. "Rick, this house is full of dominants. All these dominants around set my teeth on edge. I have never played well with others; one wrong look from them and I will be out for blood. I cannot give them any opening. Your submission to me must be absolute. I know you will not submit to others, and I will never demand that of you. In fact, I will never permit any dominant to try it, not without my express say so and within very tight limits.  But you will submit to me fully. I know you are capable of taking care of yourself, but today I want you to trust me enough to leave your protection in my hands. Can you do that? For me?"

Yes, Rick nodded his head. For him Rick would gladly go to the edge of the world and step off.    

Rick walked into the large dining room remarkably similar to the one in his grandparents’ winter retreat near Davos. He almost expected to see his grandfather at the head of the heavy mahogany table. He tensed up and ground his teeth together. Johnny must have felt it, because he wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders and pulled him closer against his side. Thinking about his grandparents was really not the right thing to do; it never failed to raise his ire and put him on edge. This was not the time to add more pressure on his already cracking temper.

"John, Rick, please," the overbearing Lord of the house said, pulling a chair out and indicating their places at the table.

That small and otherwise common gesture of seating your guests at the table made Rick reel with barely checked anger. He could feel his already stretched nerves ready to give way. He mentally scolded himself and sat down, resolutely determined to follow his promise to Johnny. Rick sat with his eyes fixed on his plate without looking around. He’d seen Gordon and Landon sitting at the head of the table. He could feel Gordon's eyes on him, and that was almost enough to break him. He couldn't sit here compliant and bland, looking like an accessory to his dominant rather than a human being in his own right. Fuck this, he couldn't do it. This meant throwing away all he had worked so hard for: to be respected and even feared by his peers, no longer the misfortunate accident in a wealthy family who was shoved back and pretended to not exist, but a success story regarded with admiration. He couldn't let these two powerful men see him as a meek, incapable addition to Johnny. Rick had handled business for them and might need to do so in future. How could they ever trust him to do so, if all they would see was a weak, blabbering mess instead of a strong and capable professional? John would understand eventually; he would have to.

Rick straightened his spine and lifted his head holding it up in a way that most would find arrogant. He could care less of what most would think of him. He had every right to be proud. Johnny's own tightening of muscles told Rick that his man was aware of the change in his spirit and was preparing himself. Johnny was brilliant at reading people's behavior. He knew more about casual and seemingly meaningless gestures than anyone else Rick had met. The idea of how accurately Johnny was aware of Rick's innermost thoughts and processes was terrifying and reassuring at the same time. Rick was not really good at expressing his feelings, and having a mind-reader as his boyfriend was very handy at times.

Rick looked around him. Everyone was seated at the table already. Blade and a younger boy were serving dinner. Surveying the occupants of the table, Rick caught Landon's eye. The man was looking at him, a small smile on his lips, his eyes like x-rays trained on him. Rick gave a curt nod and involuntarily remembered John's words. This man was supposed to be a submissive. How could this be a submissive? There was nothing weak about Landon; he was power incarnated and wore the knowledge with pride. Was Johnny trying to mess with his head? Only he couldn’t remember Johnny ever lying to him, and frankly he didn't think John capable of dishonesty toward him. No, the lying and manipulation were Rick's area of expertise, he thought bitterly, automatically lowering his eyes in shame. Why Johnny put up with him was a mystery. He looked at Johnny, who returned his gaze with tension visible in his eyes. Rick gave him a frail smile and returned his eyes to his plate. He would not start anything if not provoked, he vowed silently.   

When the food was served and all the men were in their places, Milton smiled gently at Johnny and said, "I believe you’ve met most of us." At John's consenting nod, Milton continued, "it leaves only Austin and Mike," he gestured to the men sitting at his either side, "my partners."

Partners? Partners in what? The younger man, Austin apparently, who had served dinner earlier, didn't look old enough to be a partner in anything other than a pajama party, and the other one, Mike, with the multitude of jewels decorating his ears, could perhaps be a partner in a body art parlor.

"This isn't my entire family," Milton continued chatting as he helped himself from the salad bowl and piled some of the greenery on the plates of the two younger men seated beside him. Oh, that kind of partners, Rick thought, staring at the trio. "There is Sheldon, who called to let us know that he would not make it for dinner due to the heavy traffic because of the continuous snowfall, and then there are Tilden and Luke, who are visiting Tilden's family," the man explained calmly, cutting his steak casually, as if having a house full of lovers was something normal and encountered on every corner.

Someone should have let this man know that sultan’s harems were a thing of the long forgotten past. The Mike guy caught him staring and winked at him. "Is something wrong with your food?" he asked sarcastically.    

"Mike." Milton's voice cracked in the large room, "Eyes on the plate. If you can't keep a respectful tone of conversation, you are free to kneel at my feet." The growl set Rick's stomach on a somersaulting spree.

Mike lowered his eyes in silent submission. Everyone else looked unaffected, as if being threatened to be thrown to the floor during dinner was perfectly acceptable table manners. Once Rick recovered from the shock, he could hardly fight the urge to growl at Milton and his arrogant ways. Milton thought he was so important and grand. Rick would have loved to see this man treat him with that kind of brashness.

Before his simmering rage could get the better of him, Landon spoke in a lazy and slightly amused tone, "It looks like there are too many boys sitting too comfortably for their own good. On the other hand some simply will not learn," he said, turning his all-knowing eyes on Rick, eyes that were suddenly too sharp and demanding.

"My lad, I'm starting to think you might be one of those boys who are sitting in too much comfort," Gordon stated calmly, the tone of his voice belying the darkness in his eyes. "I can remedy that, but I would rather not interrupt my dinner for such a purpose."

Oh, God. Rick was surely in some kind of weird alternate universe. He looked at Johnny, confused and unsure. This was some sort of strange dream for sure. Johnny just nodded at him austerely.

"Eat," was all John said, his eyes stern. Rick fell against his chair in near defeat.

Rick looked at Blade and Ryan. Those two looked so normal at the airport. Blade was concentrating on his plate. Ryan was devouring his plateful of greenery and vegetables. He looked back at Rick and gave him what was supposed to pass as an encouraging smile.

"Go on, the food is really good around here," Ryan said to Rick, looking at him as someone might while dealing with a spooked animal.

Rick was not some kind of fragile animal life form, threatened with extinction, to be coaxed and cajoled out of his shell. Rick was capable of intimidating and controlling rooms of people, capable people, powerful people.

"Rick, you were told to eat," Milton said tersely, cutting off the last rope binding Rick's temper.

He took a deep breath preparing for battle, but before he could open his mouth to unleash on Milton, John uttered forcefully, "Don't!" It was said in a low voice, soft, but full of such authority that it froze Rick on the spot, even though he wasn't entirely sure the word was directed at him, since Johnny was locked in a fierce staring match with Milton.

"Rick, get started on your dinner," Johnny said curtly, still holding Milton's eyes.

For some reason Rick felt that challenging Johnny was not going to end well at this point. He had no trace of doubt that Johnny would not hesitate to punish him in front of all these men if he disobeyed him. Not that these man would find it unusual. After all he had just witnessed Landon Graves being threatened to get his ass beat and by Gordon Lewis no less.

He picked up his fork and knife and started to eat.    

The conversation resumed slowly, a polite chitchat with no real substance. Rick's eyes kept roaming around the table. This must be how Alice felt at the Mad Hatter's Tea-Party. The only difference was that if he left this particular party with words `It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life', Johnny might decide to borrow the Queen's trademark phrase `Off with his head!', only it would probably be `Off with his pants'.  Oh, God, he couldn't believe he was finding humor in this charade.

His attention was drawn back to the conversation. Someone had apparently asked John how they had met. Johnny told a short and tame version of their meeting and finished with, "That was nearly two years ago, eighteen month to be precise." The look he gave Rick was indulgent and loving, and it made Rick squirm in his chair with delight.

"Eighteen month and your boy still behaves like an untrained and overstimulated colt," Gordon spoke in an even voice, his tone thick with reproof. "Quite inadequate," he finished, eyes boring down on Rick.

What? He sat around like a good little submissive and still gets picked on? And by Gordon Lewis of all people?

John's hand was instantly on his thigh, squeezing so tight Rick was sure there would be permanent damage to his nerve, but it was not enough to keep his mouth shut, at that point nothing would be.

"You didn't find me inadequate, when I successfully submitted a judicial review to overturn the ban on the merger with the Carston Corporation. Or when I managed to get Klimt account settled with your South African subsidiaries," Rick spat caustically, pointing out two of the biggest cases that he had handled for Lewis and Graves. Those were cases that surely would have made it to the big bosses attention.    

"Rick," John hissed a warning from beside him, hand tightening around his thigh even more.

"Young man," Gordon said icily, leaning forward and piercing Rick with his grey eyes. "I'm very well aware of who you are and what you have done. Just as I trust that you, with your not negligible intelligence, are aware that my affirmation was in no way a reflection of your professional capacity."

Rick bit down on his tongue in order not to argue. To argue what exactly? That he was a good submissive? Rick could argue many false statements, but that one was beyond even his aptitude. Not to mention the fact that a second ago he was determined to deny any affiliation to submissive behavior.

Gordon's eyes turned onto John, "Milton can be a great council in this matter. He knows a thing or two about errant submissives," he said in a tone that suggested it was more of a ruling bearing no argument than a suggestion.

Rick almost jumped out of his seat. John's hand was faster though; it left Rick's thigh and pressed down on his neck.

"Sit," he barked at Rick, shoving him down.

Everybody's eyes were on him. Ryan looked at him with a soft reprimand coated in compassion. Blade was attempting an encouraging smile, Austin was simply staring at him, Mike looked quite satisfied, amused even, Milton and Landon looked like they had discovered a new, interesting species of bug.

"We are very grateful for your hospitality, sir," John spoke up in a deliberate and precise manner.

Gordon raised an eyebrow at John, "I believe my suggestion had a different aim," he said pointedly.

"And I believe I was thanking you for your hospitality, anything beyond that will not be required." John's breath was labored; he was clearly fighting his temper. Rick looked at the silver knife tightly griped in John's hand and saw it slowly changing shape. "I didn't realize that your generous offer to house us came with a bill I was not prepared to pay."

"Don't dramatize, John," Gordon cut in sharply.

"And here I thought you Europeans prided yourself with being classier then Americans," Landon said in a sarcastic tone.

"Well, ten years in the mountains of Afghanistan roughened my edges," John growled at Landon. "I don't see your submissive being any more reverential than my Rick," he pointed out to Gordon, casting a challenging look at him.

"Landon made an unfortunate remark consistent with his misplaced sense of humor. It was hardly disrespectful," Gordon said, leaning back in his chair.

"And what the hell did I do that was so disrespectful?" Rick yelled, jumping up.

"Sit, boy." The twin growl hit Rick with force. John and Milton had spoken simultaneously.

"Fuck it, fuck everything! I'm done here." Rick threw his napkin onto the table and made to get up. John caught him by the elbow, preventing his dramatic exit.

"We have certain expectations regarding manners around this table, boy." That was Milton towering above the table like one of the great Sultans of the Ottoman Empire. "Your attitude is a disgrace to your dominant. You can't expect his protection, if you refuse him his rights."

"Protection?" Rick yelled in outrage. "I don't need protection! You think I can't handle the likes of you?" Rick tried to break away from John's grip and walk to Milton. "Let me go!" he screamed at Johnny. "I will not allow this arrogant, pompous--" 

His rant was cut short by John's bark. "Enough! Stop that this instant!" John towered over Rick, looking menacing and infuriated. "Excuse us, please. I apologize for this gross disruption of your meal," Johnny addressed them in  a clipped tone and tried to pull Rick after himself.

"Grow a backbone, Johnny! I don't care--"

"Silence!" Johnny grabbed him by the shoulders and shook Rick violently.

"Boy, fighting against your need to submit will get you nowhere." Milton was now standing over his head, right by John's side.

"Go to hell, both of you!" Rick yelled, struggling violently to no avail. Johnny’s hold was unrelenting. "I don't need to submit, I don't even want it! I hate every second of this thing that is being shoved down my throat."

"Rick, you are digging your own grave," John hissed in his ear.

"Are you saying you don't submit of your own will?" It was Ryan, his voice a spot of calm in the storm.

"Yes!" Rick spat vehemently.

"Should we call the police?" Ryan's voice was just as casual.

"What?" The bafflement stopped Rick's struggles.

"Well, you said John was forcing you, making you submit without having your consent. That is abuse and assault; we should call the police." Ryan had moved closer to him and was staring down at him.

Johnny was standing by his side in stand-by, not letting him go, but not trying to remove him from the room either. Rick looked at John, guilt pressing down his shoulders.

"Do you even realize, what you have accused your dominant of?" It was Gordon, his tone beyond displeased.

"Let me go, please," Rick murmured softly, looking up into Johnny's eyes, pleading with him. He knew there was no way he wasn't getting beat for this, but right now he needed to run and hide. He had once more hurt Johnny.

"Right! This was more explosive then I expected." Landon rose gracefully from his chair and approached Rick, who was surrounded by three large dominants. "If you would allow me," he addressed John, but included Rick in his glance as well, "I would like to speak to Rick."

Johnny studied Rick for a while and then pushed him in Landon's direction. "If he gives you any trouble, please hand him over to me with the heaviest cane in your collection."

Landon grimaced. "We have a vast collection of canes, up to the dragon. Somehow your boy doesn't seem to be familiar with the upper range of the cane family."

"This would be a great opportunity for him to expand his knowledge then," John replied resolutely. Rick was getting caned; that was beyond a doubt. He wondered how much worse the dragon cane was compared to what he’d had until now.

Landon nodded courteously and gripping Rick by his hand headed for the door that lead to a closed patio, "Mike, join us. I think you have a similar experience with such situations that could be very helpful for Rick."

Rick followed Landon without protest. He was done protesting. John's edgy stance and darkness in his eyes told him he had done enough already.  

Milton gave Mike a nod, who immediately jumped up and went with them. He bumped into Rick's shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry, they don't usually boil you and eat you for such transgressions."

Rick smiled a humorless smile, "Yeah, but Johnny does."

Rick looked back. Johnny took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his forehead. Milton said something to him and they went to another door leading out of the room. Gordon joined them, leaving Ryan, Blade and Austin to clean up the dining table.

Rick was such an idiot. Looking back he wasn't sure what the commotion was all about. He had ended up in a lot worse place than if he would have behaved as Johnny had asked of him, like John's beloved submissive. He was John's submissive in disgrace. 

****

Milton sat down in the oversized armchair, crossing his legs and leaning back to create an air of relaxation. He was well aware that John had not followed Milton's example of sitting and was standing by the door, every muscle as rigid as a Greek sculpture. "Gordon, would you leave us for a moment." Milton was the diplomat; Gordon was not. 

"This is your call," Gordon said, not happy by the request, but ceding to Milton's will.

"Thank you," Milton said softly, aware that he rarely forced his will on Gordon and grateful for Gordon's refined and genteel manners as he exited the room with a brisk nod to both men. Milton waited for the click of the door before turning toward John. "I would offer you coffee, but an additional stimulant seems unwise."

John gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the opposite palm behind his back. His nod was short and mechanical, and the smile was that in name only. 

"John," Milton said, linking his fingers together around one knee. "I'm a history professor. I would lose in a battle of physical prowess, and I willingly grant you that point. I will not leap from the chair and attack you."

"I assume not." John's voice was clipped and tight and suggested a complete lack of trust.

"How do you know us?"

"From Arthur. He knows Gordon," John elaborated into the silence.

"I see," Milton said, drawing the words out slowly. "I am not Gordon. I wear the mantle of Head of The Green Mountain Boys, and I understand the reputation our organization has outside of our closed circle. Within our circle, my word is law. We are for all intensive purposes as rigid and hierarchical as any leather club during the leather culture heyday. I learned to dominate by first being at Gordon's feet. A disturbance, such as Rick's outburst, was, I admit, a relatively common outcome of dinner guests during that period. None of us will die from eating cold or reheated dinner." Milton leaned forward and looked intently at John. "I understand both you and your boy's reservations, or perhaps trepidations is a better word. I am a dominant. It is not with ease that I bend to another's will, and I do not yield to a stranger. I have been in your boy's position, surrounded by powerful men and expected to be a quiet, polite, invisible shadow at Gordon's feet. I have fully submitted to Gordon, but it was never easy or graceful in public. Landon would be happy to entertain you with a recounting of some of my worst exploits."

Milton fell silent, his eyes still on John. Milton might never voice John's frustration or anger, but the feelings weren't unknown to him. He was a dominant. A stranger had no right to interfere with his boy. Of course as a Green Mountain Boy, a stranger, or more accurately a fellow member, had every right to interfere. It was the most difficult and most vital aspect of being a Green Mountain Boy. Milton had learned this as a near child. It had been emblazoned on his flesh with a myriad of implements, and it had been quietly discussed and rehashed in endless conversations with his feet dangling in the lake on a hot summer day or curled up on the sofa with a warm cup of cocoa as the snows raged beyond the windows. John didn't have that experience. He'd been a soldier; he'd learned to look inward for guidance. He couldn't be expected to understand the intricacies of the GMB protocol.

"You are the diplomat," John said, breaking the long silence. "You appear to yield, but give nothing. It is a remarkable skill."

"Touché," Milton said with an unruffled smile. 

"This is not the place for us."

"The snow makes you our guests. I will not turn you out even if you tell me to go to hell in whatever way you choose."

"Gordon is not so charitable."

"He is not, but I am head of the Green Mountain Boys. He will yield." Milton knew the look. It was one of barely contained disbelief. "We are not you. We live by different rules."

"You are very good," John said with a thin smile.

"I try," Milton said simply. "My life is very complicated; I have no desire to increase its complications."

"I have no desire to be one of your complications," John said tightly.

"I am not blind." Milton sighed and unlaced his fingers. "I have a boy very similar to yours. I lost him for six weeks. It was a pain I would never wish on anyone, especially a fellow dominant. One of us here has seen everything, lived through everything, triumphs and disasters. We're here. We share." Milton smoothed his pants with his hand."That is all, John. It is always your choice. Power is about choice. I don't need to remind you of that."

****

"And I thought I had the award for breaking up dinners," Mike said as they entered the solarium . This was Landon's favorite room. Mike had often found him here, stretched out on the floor like a much younger man between the tropical plant, listening to the fountain splash against the rocks. In the summer the front glass turned into screens, and it opened onto the pool deck. In the winter it was sealed tight, and the steam heat under the floor was running full blast.

"No, that belongs to Milton," Landon said and seated himself in a wicker chair. He looked up through the glass ceiling and pointed at the stars overhead. "The storms over. That's Orion; the three bright stars are his belt."

"Did you bring me out here for an astronomy lesson?" Rick asked sarcastically.

"Maybe I should have let Gordon and Milton have a go at you. Stripes from the nape of your neck to your knees might have put a little reverence in your voice," Landon mused, still looking at the stars.

"They aren't touching me," Rick snarled.

"More the pity." 

"I don't need your pity."

"Don't bait when you don't want the consequences," Landon said, turning his gaze toward Rick. "You're a submissive. You are not inconsequential, helpless, or inhabited by alien mind spores. You controlled the disaster you created. You're in a partnership with your dominant. He needed your support, not your provocation. John doesn't handle this sort of thing easily. I met the man this afternoon, and I saw his discomfort in every guarded look, in every tense muscle. You love the man. Do you ever pay attention to him, or are you always a one sided walking, talking disaster?"

"Landon," Mike said, his eyes traveling quickly from Rick to Landon and back again.

"Submission is about truth and trust. It's about facing your fears and willingly exposing your vulnerabilities. You know that, Mike. You learned it the hard way. Rick must learn it, and I have fewer tools with him."

"I don't see any handy clothesline," Mike snarked. 

"You trusted me to physically touch you. I don't have that liberty with Rick, and the words unfortunately are often more painful than the actions." 

"Submission is strength," Mike said quietly.

"Hallelujah and pass the ammunition," Landon said with a wide smile.

"If you two are going to speak in American gibberish, I'm leaving."

"I believe John threatened the dragon cane if you didn't stay and listen," Landon said. "I would not court such a punishment, and I'm a masochist."

"A cane's a cane."

"Not exactly." Landon pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, sitting like a small boy on a much too big piece of furniture. "The dragon cane would break you, and you don't need broken. You need tamed to take sugar from your master's hand. You do not have the headspace for such an implement. Blade could find the headspace, but Ryan would spend the afternoon getting it right before placing the first stroke."

"I am not fragile." Rick planted his hands on hips and glared at Landon. "I am Richard Masters--"

"Yes, I know," Landon interrupted. "You are also foolhardy and colossally stubborn. Stubbornness is an admirable trait in a solicitor, less so in a submissive. Your work suggests you restrain your attraction to bellicose foolhardiness in the professional sphere. I would recommend either the same restraint in the private sphere or for you to trust your dominant to contain your worse impulses. You are doing neither at the moment." 

Rick stared at his feet, the color draining from his face. "I don't submit."

"I haven't seen you submit," Landon said, his voice now gentle. "Submission is hard. We all get it wrong sometimes. Submission isn't for weaklings and wimps and those without courage. I'll let Mike tell you a few of his tales about trying to find his submission with broken lamps and beltings by a friend and me taking a clothesline to his thighs. I’ll let Mike tell you of his beginnings when he too made claims of uncivil and abusive behavior by his dominant."

"The clothesline hurt. I was red for days, but the first might have been worse. I don’t know."

"The clothesline worked, didn't it?"

"Arrogant bastard," Mike said with no real heat.

"I have experience; maybe I've earned the right to a little arrogance."

"Landon!" Mike grabbed the cushion off a nearby chair and whipped it at Landon's head. "Help me, Rick. We can take him."

Pillows flew across the room, and Mike saw the flash of a grin on Landon's face and the half-hidden thumbs up sign.