After the Trip

After the Trip

“Oh, God!” Sam groaned and tossed his duffel bag on the chair.

“Don’t leave it there,” Dan said. “Take it upstairs before dinner.”

“I’m too tired to move. Please tell me you’re cooking something that’s not fried or sweet.”

“Spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce. Take your bag up.”

“Or what? You’ll spank me. That would be a relief.”

“Were you giving Quill a hard time?” Dan asked, his voice taking on a sharper tone.

“No, the man’s diabolical. I thought he was an easy top. That was before I got dragged on every coaster in the state. Please let me go on the retreat next year.”

“You hated it the only time I took you.”

“That was before I went on vacation with Quill and Jake. I thought tops were supposed to have more sense. Do you know what that man eats? Fried Oreos, things on sticks, weird multicolored collections of shaved ice.”

“I’ve seen him eat real food.”

“Not on vacation. I should get a medal for surviving a Quill vacation.”

“You like amusement parks.”

“Not from the opening minute to the closing fireworks. The man is insane. He keeps a list of every coaster he’s ever ridden. We even had to ride the kiddie coaster so he could add it to the list. I thought we were going to have to borrow a kid.”

“My poor baby.” Dan kissed Sam’s forehead and brushed his bangs back. “Was the kiddie coaster too fast for you?”

“Don’t tease me. I had my head shaken off my neck on piles of timber that Quill and Jake fondly call woodies, and my body dropped down three hundred feet of steel. I deserve tender loving care, not insults.”

“Poor baby.” Dan grinned. “Up to bed with you then. I’ll bring a tray.”

“It’s only seven.”

“You just told me how exhausted you were. Get your bag and up to bed.”

“Dan,” Sam whined.

“Should I call Quill and ask him how he handled you when you got whiney?”

“No, please.” Sam thought of the impromptu lesson in origami when he started fidgeting at dinner. It had taken him an hour to learn to fold a paper crane, and Quill had made Sam fold a crane before breakfast the next morning. “Spank me and get it over with.”

“Do you need a spanking?” Dan asked, all teasing out of his voice. “Should Quill have spanked you?”

“You might have,” Sam said, running his fingers through his short hair that still felt stiff from the chlorinated water of phony rapids. “Quill handled it. I think he did OK, but I’d rather vacation with you even if you spank. You don’t play every memory game ever invented and some I think Quill just made up to torture me. I missed you.”

Dan looped an arm around Sam and pulled him close. “I missed you too. Now up to bed with you. I’ll be up shortly, and after a quick dinner we’ll make up for lost time, and then we’ll discuss Quill’s suggestion that we all take a winter vacation in Orlando.”

“Only if you’re there to protect me from the mad toy maker. I’ll see you upstairs.” Sam grinned and wiggled his ass.

“Your bag, brat.” Dan pointed at the duffel still on the chair and landed a soft swat on the still wiggling ass.

“Yes, my dear top.” Sam grabbed his bag and ran for the bedroom.

“I thought you were tired,” Dan shouted up the stairs. “I’ll come supervise your bed rest. Behave, brat, or will play Scrabble instead of more fun extracurricular activities.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Sam laughed as he threw himself on the bed, arranging himself provocatively; life was right with the world again.