Buy One, Get Two and Three... - 30. Chapter 30

Toby looked in the mirror one more time, Silas really did know what he was talking about when it came to clothes. He once more contemplated his upcoming lunch with Tara.

Why had he agreed to it?

She was an exotic beauty with dark skin and even darker hair and her eyes seemed as if they could look right into his soul. And that was all great…But, she was a Mistress. How was he supposed to deal with her? How was he supposed to act around her?

His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” Silas called.

Shit! Toby thought. He ran out the door, hurtled down the stairs and knew he wasn’t going to be in time when he heard the front door opening.

“Mistress Tara, what a wonderful surprise.” Silas’ voice sounded so innocent to the untrained ear.

Luckily Tara didn’t have one of those ears. “Silas, do you want me to report you to Oliver?”

Toby chuckled as he descended the last few steps and then stopped, frozen by the sight in front of him.

Tara stood there, her hands on her hips, glaring at Silas. But, that wasn’t what had caught Toby’s attention. She was wearing a teal green dress that fitted her like a second skin. It had thin straps over her shoulders and fell all the way to her ankles. The split up the side reached tantalizingly close to the top of her thigh. She towered over Silas in matching green high heeled sandals. Oh God, he was underdressed, he needed to go back—

Toby's thoughts were scattered by an unexpected voice calling out.

“Report what to me?” Oliver came through the door and Silas rounded on Toby.

“What’s he doing here?”

Toby looked between Tara, Oliver and Silas. “Why do you think I would know? Why don’t you ask him?”

Silas turned his glare on Oliver who held up his hands in surrender. “We thought it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to be in the house alone. And since I happen to know Daniel is with Carlos, well, it seems I have bodyguard duty today.”

Silas didn’t seem to be having any of that. “Bodyguard? You mean babysitter. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m in my own house and the security system is crazy. No one can get in or out without something going off somewhere.”

“That’s beside the point,” Oliver said scowling at Silas. “We think it would be better if—”

“You think? Well, no one asked me. What about what I think? What if I—”

“Shut up,” Toby demanded. “Si, I would feel better if you had company this afternoon. Please.”

The please seem to do the trick and Silas agreed to allow Oliver to sit in the living room and stay out of his way.

Toby was grateful for small blessings and dragged a laughing Tara out the door.

Silas

Silas glared at Oliver as the front door clicked shut behind his brother and his date.

“So, what do you have planned?” Oliver asked.

“DVDs, popcorn and soda.” Silas bit the words out and groaned as Oliver seemed to perk up.

“Great, so what are we watching?”

Silas grinned to himself then pasted on his most innocent expression. “I was thinking of Westside Story, or maybe Fiddler on the Roof.” He almost lost it at the look of horror on Oliver's face. Those movies—although good to watch—were also over two hours long each. Westside Story even had an interval, on a DVD.

“That sounds great,” Oliver said in a strained voice, and Silas lost it. He doubled over in laughter and had to hold his sides.

He let out a yelp when Oliver clapped a firm hand on the back of his neck. “Think you’re funny, do you, boy?”

Silas spun out of Oliver's grip and ran for the kitchen, laughing all the way.

Oliver caught him as he entered the kitchen, lifted him up and pinned him to the wall inside the doorway.

“You’ve been bad, boy. I think you need to be punished.”

Silas’ mind shut down. How many times had he heard almost those exact words, only said in a much deeper, angrier tone?

Silas instantly started to struggle. He needed to get away. He hadn’t been bad. He couldn’t take another punishment.

Oliver

Oliver tightened his grip on Silas and tried to get his boy’s attention. “Silas! Silas, open your eyes. You need to calm down or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No. No. No,” Silas cried as he shook his head back and forth. “I haven’t been bad. I didn’t do it. Please Master, no more punishments. I’ll do better…”

Fuck! What had he done?

Oliver held Silas tight to him and moved into the living room. Sitting on the couch he continued to hold and soothe Silas. He’d been present for a few of Carlos’ panic attacks and he knew there was nothing he could really do except keep talking and stop Silas from hurting himself. He’d either come out of it or exhaust himself.

It took over half an hour but Silas finally went limp in his arms. As his boy’s breathing evened out Oliver sung a soft lullaby his mother had used to comfort him when he was younger.

When Silas was asleep Oliver turned on himself and called himself all sorts of names. He really needed to start thinking about what he did and said. That was the second panic attack his boy had had. He wasn’t naïve enough to think it would be the last, but he did think he could use his own common sense to try and minimalize the chances of setting one off.

He settled back more comfortably and waited for his boy to wake up so he could apologize.