Repost: STORY: Shedding of the Mantle (part 2) M/M

[JULNICK]

"Is he...hurt?" Jay wasn't sure if the hitch the words and the flicker of
agony in the eyes were due to the pain of speech itself, or the heartache of
giving voice to the possibility.

Jay forced himself to meet Tem's gaze. "He..." Jay sighed. "He wasn't hurt
by the cougar." Tem's expression was hardening further. "He was scared
badly when he saw you were hurt. I gave him something to calm him down..."

Before the words were even out of his mouth, Jay felt a whisper of ice trace
his spine. There was fury behind the mask of calm and feral rage in Tem's
eyes. Jay shifted, subtly moving himself out of easy reach from the bed.

"You drugged him?" Tem's voice sounded stronger, softer, barely more than a
whisper, but it filled the small room.

Jay countered the creeping unease with his own anger. Keeping his tone even,
he said, "He's my brother, Tem. I wouldn't do anything that would hurt him.
Not in *any* way." He met Tem's glare coolly until Tem broke the contact and
glanced at the door.

"Why did you come here?"

Jay studied him. "I didn't think you should wake up alone..."

"Why do you care?" The green eyes focussed on him intently. "You don't like
me."

"We have a history, that doesn't mean..." Jay began, then stopped as Tem
shifted and hissed.

"I'm not talking about our history... I'm talking about John. I've never
been good enough for him... Yes?"

Jay opened his mouth then closed it again. "No, Tem... It's never been
about that..."

***

Jay opened the door and slipped into the quiet of the darkened room beyond,
closing out the bustle of the emergency room. He leaned against the door for
a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

"You doped me." The familiar voice was flat. Jay pressed the heels of his
hands to his eyes. He took an unsteady breath.

"You aren't serious..." He looked at his brother who was sitting on the edge
of the bed. John gave him a deadly look. "You were half out of your damn
mind," he said irritably, crossing to the bed. He sat down. More gently, he
asked, "Want to tell me what happened? The details were sketchy when you
came in."

John turned to him. His eyes were haunted. "It was my fault."

Jay considered his approach for a moment. "You control mountain lions, now?
Maybe you're still in shock, you should lie down." He raised an eyebrow at
his brother, but John didn't rise to the bait. Jay winced slightly under the
glare.

"I've become my father," he said finally. Jay stared at him.

"You're not like Dad…"

John held his gaze for several long, uncomfortable seconds. "You're not
sure."

***

Feeling beaten to the core, Jay let himself into Tem's room again. Tem
turned his head slowly, eyes assessing, reaching judgement, and turning away.

"Where's John?" His voice was hard. Jay took a deep breath.

"I don't know. He left the hospital. I don't know where he went."

Tem turned back to Jay. "You don't know?" The words were an icy blade.

"I don't know."

Tem struggled to sit up. Jay started to restrain him, then stopped. "What
did he tell you?" Tem demanded, hissing as he slid his feet to the floor. He
grabbed for his T-shirt. Jay hesitated. Tem turned on him, teeth bared.
"What did he say?" The words hung in the air like darkening storm clouds.
Jay shivered.

"He said he's become his father."

Tem's eyes became unfocussed for a moment. Very softly, he said, "I know
where he is…"

***

Tem looked up at the house. Brick and yellowed cream paint. The windows
were dark, shaded fading brown drapes. Tem swallowed, his skin was pale.
"You grew up here… It all happened here…" he whispered. Jay looked at
him.
He had a strong feeling that Tem wasn't speaking to him. He fought back the
sick, anxious fear that he thought he'd outgrown as he looked up at the house
he'd spent half his childhood in. Tem was already at the door.

***

Tem grasped the doorknob and turned it. There was no resistance and he
pushed it forward, opening into the entryway. The smell assaulted his mind.
Stale cigarette smoke and linoleum and the odor of old man.

Tem stepped into the hall, gritting his teeth. There was a scraping thud
from the back of the house and Tem turned.

As he walked along the stringy, threadbare, green shag carpet of the hallway,
he fought to close his mind to the years of screams and pain and fear that he
could only imagine the walls had absorbed. The air itself felt tainted; it
tasted bitter in his mouth. There was another sound ahead of him. A muffled
slap, muted by the walls. Tem quickened his pace.

He glanced into the rooms as he passed. The furniture was gone. Most
everything had already been packed into boxes and moved out. A few things
still lay strewn across the floors, items not yet sorted, not yet distributed
to family members. A vacuum cleaner in one room was still plugged into the
wall. Cleaning supplies in the bathroom. A house in the midst of
preparation for sale.

There was another slap. Tem glanced around, pinpointing it behind a closed
door. He approached slowly, noting for the first time that the wood of the
door frame was gouged and scarred with old marks. He traced one of the
deeper gashes with his finger, his eyebrows drawing. A slapping thud sounded
loudly through the door, breaking Tem's concentration, and he opened it
quickly onto another empty room save for a couple of open boxes and a
Formica-topped bar built into the back wall. John sat cross-legged on the
floor, his back to the door. He was naked to the waist. Tem froze.

John's back was laced with red welts. In places, the broad bands of red
ended in raised rectangles. Some of them trickled blood. Fighting sick
terror, Tem slowly circled around until he could see John's face. There were
more welts on his sides, his ribs, his belly, his arms. A cut was rising to
a bruise on his left cheekbone. Tem took a slow breath through his mouth and
sank to a crouch. Cradled in his partner's lap was a worn leather belt with
a tarnished brass buckle. John raised his eyes, a sad, ironic smile tilting
the corners of his mouth.

"He kept it," he rasped. Tears rose up in his eyes and his body began to
shake. Tem sank down onto his knees and leaned forward awkwardly, drawing
John into his arms, trying to avoid the web of cuts on the trembling body.

"Oh, John…" he breathed. "No…"

"I'm him…" John whimpered into Tem's shoulder. "I've become *him*." He
pulled away and Tem let him go, sitting back to look into John's eyes.

John began to roll the belt around his hand, shortening the slack, leaving
the buckle free to swing.

"No…" Tem said, reaching for John's hand, but John pulled away, shaking his
head.

"I've, I've hurt you…"

Tem grabbed John's hand and held it down firmly. "You've never hurt me," he
said evenly.

John pulled his hand free and stumbled to his feet. Tem rose with him his
breath catching at the stab of pain every movement was costing him.

"I hurt you. The way he hurt me. I swore. I would never become him. And
then I did. And you almost died." His voice was becoming frantic. He
wrapped the belt around his hand until the buckle framed his fist with metal.
His eyes were haunted and distant. Tem felt icy fear spreading through his
gut.

"If you ever have hurt me, John, you're about to make it worse…" John shook
his head. "You've never done to me what your father did to you. You've
never beaten me. Never, John."

"I have!" John cried desperately, tears spilling down his face. "I have!"

"You've spanked me, John. Your father *beat* you. Not spanked. He *beat*
you. I bet you've never had a *spanking* in your life!"

John shook his head. "I hurt you… I beat you…" He raised his fist and
closed his eyes. Tem lunged forward, catching John's wrist a hairsbreadth
from his already bleeding face. Tem bit down on his rage and loosened his
grip on John's wrist before he cracked bones.

"Give me the fucking belt," he hissed.

John's eyes widened with fear. Tem snatched the leather and untangled it
roughly from John's fingers. Grabbing John's arm, he shoved him over to the
bar and pushed him down. He doubled the belt over in his hand, choking up on
the buckle until only leather hung free.

"You need to be punished? Tell me." He waited. John began to cry softly.
Tem waited.

"I need to be punished…" John choked out finally. "Please…"

Tem pushed John down hard until his body touched the bar and his hands
grabbed the far side of the counter-top. "You tell me when you've had
enough."

He stepped back and John didn't move. Tem took a deep breath, holding onto
the hot anger and swung hard. The belt cracked against the seat of John's
pants. John jumped slightly, but made no sound and no movement but to tuck
his chin into his chest, hiding his face.

Tem continued. The licks were hard and fast. He reached ten without a
reaction from John. By fifteen, John was flinching. Twenty, he was trembling
and squirming. At thirty, he cried out and Tem let his arm drop.

"Enough?" Tem asked, his voice still hard.

John took a shuddering breath and began to raise his head, nodded quickly
then sobbed and tucked his chin again. His body shook as he cried
helplessly. Tem stepped away from him, trembling, waiting.

Finally, the tears stopped. Slowly, John loosened his grip on the
counter-top and pushed himself to his elbows. He sniffed and took a
shuddering breath, then wiped gingerly at his face with hand. Uncertainly,
he turned to Tem and his expression changed.

***

Tem was staring at the belt as if it were a poisonous snake that would strike
if he so much as blinked. His face was a mask of horrified disgust. Slowly,
he raised his eyes to look at John.

"Oh my god…" he said, his voice twisting with an anguished sob. "Oh my
god…
"

John stepped toward him, concern for Tem pushing away the heartache of
before, numbing the sting of the whipping. "Tem?"

"I'm so sorry," Tem whimpered. "Oh my god, John, I'm so sorry…" He dropped
the belt like a hot coal and backed away. John continued forward.

"Tem… It's okay… Baby? You didn't hurt me…"

Tem sobbed and sank to the floor, covering his face. "I hit you… I hit
you…
Like your dad… In this house… Oh my god…" His words dissolved into
incoherent sobs.

John dropped to the floor beside Tem, wrapping him in his arms. "Baby, no…
Shhh… Tem… I need you to listen. Please? Please calm down so you can
hear me."

Tem rocked in John's arms, but slowly brought his crying under control.

"Tem, you spanked me. My dad never spanked me. He beat me. Look." He
gestured to the welts on his chest and arms. "This is what he did to me.
You didn't do that."

"I did… I just did it to your ass…" Tem moaned, beginning to sob again.

John ground his teeth. "No you didn't," he insisted. "For one thing, I'm
not bleeding or concussed… Or traumatized, for that matter. For another
thing, I *asked* you to do it. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm an adult. I made
the choice, I asked you to help. So you did. Thank you."

Tem was shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say something else, but
John took his chin and pulled his face around to meet his eyes. "I asked you
to do it. And you stopped when I said I'd had enough. That is the
difference, Tem. My father never did that. He injured me and he had the
power to start and to stop. Not me." Tem glanced away, staring at the floor
for several seconds. "It's different, Tem. You're not like my father."

When Tem met John's eyes again, there was something strange behind them.
"You really think so?" His voice sounded plaintive and vulnerable, but there
was something under it. Beneath the words. Beneath the tone. John leaned
back slightly and looked at him, his forehead furrowing, eyes narrowing with
suspicion.

Tem glanced down and pressed a hand to his side, wincing. "I should get back
to the hospital," he said softly, pushing himself to his feet. He walked out
the door without turning around.

***

Tem stopped abruptly beyond the doorway, staring into the cold hard face that
alike so alike and so chillingly different from the one he'd just left. Tem
set his own face into a glacial mask.

"I think you picked the wrong profession, Temoko."

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Jakob," he replied without emotion.
Then he glided past the man without another word and let himself out of the
house before the very energy of the place made him lose hold of his stomach
all over the appropriately puke-green shag carpet.

***

John eased himself off the floor, wincing. The crisis past, he was now
feeling the effects of every lick of that belt across his bottom as well as
the self-inflicted wounds stinging his chest and back and the rapidly
swelling bruises on his face. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on,
wincing.

He started to put the belt into one of the boxes then stopped. He folded it
over, choking up on the buckle until only leather hung free and ran the
length through his fingers. He looked at it for a long moment then rolled it
neatly and turned toward the door.

"OH Jesus!" he exclaimed, gasping. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

Jay leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. He looked down, his
eyes focussing pointedly on the belt for a moment, then travelling back up to
his brother's face.

John felt warmth creep over his face and up his ears. "You saw." It wasn't
a question.

"Enough."

"I…"

Jay cut him off. "Don't explain." He sighed. "Tem told me to wait outside.
He knew this was where you'd be. He would know how to handle you…"

John ached for the bitter tone, the pain in Jay's face. "I'm sorry…"

Jay shook his head brusquely. He stared into John's eyes for a moment.
"When we were kids… You were my mirror. You… were my soul. You completed

me."

"Me too," John said softly.

"Then you came out." The silence was heavy. "I guess I knew. But I didn't
want to. I didn't want to realize that you had taken a step away from me…"

"I didn't choose…"

"I know," Jay said curtly. "I'm not saying it was a choice. But it was a…
shift in… everything. Something I could accept but I could never understand.

I could never go to that place with you. It was the first time that I
realized that there were things we'd never share."

John was quiet. Jay stared at a point on the far wall. "It opened a rift
that we would never be able to cross. We would never be one soul again…" The

silence swelled once more in the space between them. John looked at the few
feet that separated them and it suddenly felt like much more than physical
distance.

"Then… The spanking thing," Jay's voice sounded strained. John winced.
"I'll never understand. Acceptance is the best I can do. And I have tried,
John. I've tried to accept, but I… I thought if I could believe that it was

just Tem. It was his idea, his thing, you just… You were passive in it…
I
thought…" His gaze flickered to the belt again, then back to the wall. "But
Dad… My mind threw all these walls against it. I couldn't think about it.
I couldn't make it okay. And now… Today… It wasn't Tem's thing… It
was
you…" His voice broke, his eyes were glistening.

John was fighting back tears. His throat was too tight to speak. He just
shook his head.

"I love you, John. I will always love you, you're my brother. I would give
you my life. But…" His throat worked and he took a quick breath. John felt
the tears spill over and slide down his face. "I'm losing you…" Tears were
falling down Jay's face now, as well. "I've lost you."

John wanted to say something, he wanted to reassure, contradict, do anything
to close that yawning chasm between them. But he couldn't speak, and Jay
turned around and walked out of the room.

***

Tem tested the scar. It was still tender, but it was holding well without
the stitches. He gave John a small, quick smile.

"Better?"

"Better," Tem nodded, stretching, enjoying the feel of his body mending,
re-knitting torn tissues. "Well enough for anything we might want to do…" He

raised an eyebrow mischievously, but John's smile was half-hearted.

"Good."

Tem looked at him for a long moment. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," John said automatically, then shook himself. "A lot of things."

Tem waited.

"Jay."

Tem nodded his understanding and said nothing.

They sat quietly for a few minutes. Finally, Tem asked, softly, "Why did you
keep your dad's belt?"

John looked at him, then down at the table, he felt a warm flush creeping up
his face. "Because… You used it." Tem looked at him, confused. John
shifted uncomfortably. "In a way he never did."

"Oh," Tem murmured, his face clearing. He looked thoughtful. John tried to
read the newspaper and found himself rereading the same section for the third
time without realizing it before Tem distracted him. He looked up as Tem
rose.

"You know," Tem said, crossing to the kitchen sink. "Spanking your top is a
very serious offense." He pulled out a drawer and rummaged. "It's in the
bylaws…"

John watched him, sadly. "Tem, I really don't feel like…"

Tem turned, his eyes were very serious. "I really think you should." He took
the wooden spoon out of the drawer and closed it, then went back to his chair
and pulled it into the center of the kitchen. He looked into John's eyes
again. "Please…"

John sighed and set down the newspaper. "I don't know if you're well enough…
"

"I'm fine."

John hesitated, uncertain.

Tem set the spoon down and pulled John to his feet and into a hug, his breath
was warm on John's ear as he spoke.

"Don't worry. If you make me spank you again, I swear I'll make that last
one look like a cakewalk… *Sir*." John pulled back to look at Tem's face.
Tem's eyes were bright, his expression innocent. John wasn't sure that he'd
seen a twitch at the corners of Tem's mouth. Tem reached for the spoon and
pressed it into John's hand.

***
Julnick

** The beatings will continue until morale improves.**

Julnick stories archived at http://www.mybdsm.com/pages/Julnick

[NYIrishRed]

<sigh> I love these guys. They're the sort you'd want to know... to have as
friends, y'know?

Thanks for sharing these two with us again, Jule.

IrishRed