...Billy looked William straight in the eye, his mouth in a hard line. “Gonna whip me like my dad?”

William scowled now. Sam knew the man hated being compared to Jacob. Although William loved his oldest friend, they had many differing opinions, including those on child-rearing. Billy’s childhood abuse—and William’s complacency in it—had been a sore spot since his arrival two years before. Billy, being Billy, always knew exactly the sorest spots to poke. Sam swallowed hard. He had coldly and brutally exploited Billy’s claustrophobia, a product of his abuse, two years before. It had nearly destroyed them. He willed his lover be wise in his next words.

“Do you need a whipping?” William’s voice had gone cold. Billy swallowed and nodded. Some patterns died very hard, and brutality in exchange for bad marks had, in part, precipitated Billy leaving school. William lifted Billy’s chin and made him look at his face. “I dispense whippings only to those who beg sweetly for them. Naughty, dirty boys, who sulk and pout and burn things, simply get paddled. Did you leave a mess, too?”

Billy swallowed again and nodded, still not looking up. Sam held his breath. It was going to get weird. He just knew it.

“We’ll eat afterward,” William announced in a voice that brooked no argument. “Go shower. Then come to the bedroom and I shall spank you, my dear boy. It will clear the air, and your adorable bottom needs some good color. So go on and bare it. “

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t going to get too weird tonight after all. William usually kept things under control when he was on top.

Billy smiled and headed for the bathroom, taking off his shirt as he went. Sam followed him to the kitchen door.

“And I can kiss it better,” Sam called as Billy headed down the hall.

William’s hand tangled in Sam’s own dark curly mop. “Not so fast, precious. Who failed him on the paper? I think you get the paddling, too.” He pulled Sam close by the curls and kissed him.