All's Fair
by Julnick
He stared at me for a long moment, his expression subdued and serious. "This isn't fair," he said softly, his deep brown eyes fixed on mine.
"I don't want to hear it. You were fighting. What is the punishment for fighting?"
"Chris, I wasn't..."
"Stop it, Ryan, I saw you myself. And, John told me you pushed him, why would he lie?"
A flush rose over his tanned face. "Oh I don't know, to get me in trouble maybe?" He said hotly.
"Why would John want to get you in trouble?" I asked, trying to be reasonable, somewhat troubled by the unusual degree of resistance Ryan was putting up against this spanking.
"Because he's an asshole!" His voice creeping into the realm of shouting. "I didn't do anything to him! I was just trying to..."
"RYAN!" I managed to interrupt the tirade. He stared at me, eyes wild. "You will NOT shout at me, young man. I am tired of this temper tantrum. You got caught red-handed, now face up to your responsibility and take your punishment like someone approaching your age."
His face went beet red, his mouth opened and closed several times before finally snapping shut so hard I could hear his teeth clack together. He clenched his fists at his sides, then with short, jerky movements, he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them roughly to his knees. Ignoring my extended hand, he stepped to my side and virtually threw himself down across my thighs.
This fit of rage was so completely unlike him it was beginning to cause me some amount of concern. Nevertheless, I tugged his shorts down to his thighs, and began to lay crisp spanks on his upturned bottom. Normally, it would take only a few minutes before Ryan would be squirming, kicking and begging for leniency. This time, however, he remained still and silent for close to ten minutes.
Definitely worried now, I pulled his shorts and jeans back up and hauled him to his feet. His face was set in a hard stare, his eyes focused straight ahead. Taking him by the upper arm, I steered him into the corner in the far side of the kitchen.
Just as I was beginning to turn away, he pulled his fist back and punched the kitchen wall with all his strength. I grabbed his arm, pulling him backwards before he could complete his next swing. I spun him around and grabbed his wrists. He struggled, but couldn't manage to pull out of my grip.
Turning him to the side, I punctuated my words with firm swats. "What the HELL is wrong with you?"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed, wrenching his arm free of my grasp and running up the stairs. I heard his footsteps pounding down the hall and the bedroom door slammed shut.
I sighed and decided not to follow him. Whatever was on his mind, I wasn't getting through to him. I'd give him some time to cool off before approaching him again. Things remained quiet for the next half hour, so I fetched a gel pack from the freezer and slowly climbed the stairs.
I knocked softly on the door before opening it and poking my head in. Ryan was lying face-down on the bed, his left hand tucked under his belly, his right hand resting near his face which was turned toward the window. His eyes were open, but he made no indication of acknowledging my presence. I sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand in mine. Blood had caked where he'd split his knuckles, but gentle probing revealed nothing more serious than some swelling and purpling bruises. I dampened a hand towel in the bathroom and carefully blotted the dried blood before laying the ice pack over the back of his hand. He remained motionless, staring out the window.
I sighed and rubbed his back. "I don't understand, hon. Why are you so angry?" He turned his face away from me. The silence lengthened. "I really ought to take a belt to you for that stunt in the kitchen."
"So do it. I don't care."
"I'm not going to. But I am concerned. You could have put a hole in the plaster, not to mention breaking your hand."
"You wouldn't care if I did."
Stung, I reached out and swatted him hard. "That's not fair, Ryan." I said, letting him hear the hurt in my voice. He started to shake the way he always does when he's on the verge of crying. "I treasure you more than the air I breathe, than life itself. If I've hurt you, I'm sorry, tell me what I've done, give me a chance to make it right."
He began to shake harder and sob quietly. "You believed him over me." He choked out.
"Who, baby?"
"John. You took his word over mine, you wouldn't even let me explain you wouldn't let me talk!" He was beginning to work himself into a fit. I stroked his back gently.
"Honey, I wasn't just taking his word, I saw you myself."
"No!"
"Ryan..." I was confused and worried about his apparent detachment from reality.
"You saw me grab his jacket! He tripped against a rock, I was trying to keep him from falling in the mud!" A sick feeling crept through my gut. "He was just mad because I told Aryn he failed a calc test! When you walked up already angry, he saw a chance to get even and you were so quick to believe I was bad..." He dissolved into incoherent crying. Tears pricked at the corners of my own eyes. "You should have trusted me! You should have believed me! I've never lied to you. I always tell you the truth, even when it means a spanking, I always tell you..."
Careful of his hand, I pulled him up and hugged him tightly against my chest. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I'm so so sorry, baby." I kissed the top of his head and his forehead. "I'm so sorry." Slowly he unfolded his arms and hugged me, sobbing into my shirt.
Eventually the tears stopped and he raised his face to mine and kissed me softly. "I just want you to love me."
I kissed his forehead. "I always love you, baby. Even when I'm angry at you, even when I spank you, even when I'm wrong, I always love you. Do you know that, baby?"
He nodded slowly. I tilted his chin up and kissed him gently. "I think I need to call Aryn," I said grimly. Ryan favored me with a slight quirk at the corners of his lips. "After that," I brushed his bangs away from his forehead. "After that, the evening is yours. Anything you want to do. Deal?" This time he actually almost smiled.
"Deal."
--
Julnick
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