Date: Sun, 21 Nov 1999 19:34:50 -0500
From: Laylah
Subject: Balancing Accounts

Michael thumbed through the mail as the elevator climbed to the
twenty-second floor.  Out of habit, he sorted it, separating his from
Eric's.  Unconsciously, he noted that Eric had several similar looking
notices from the bank.  They had been living together for nearly a year.
And they were planning a trip to the Caymans in less than a month to declare
their lives to each other in the presence of their closest friends and
family.  Despite their mutual commitment, they had decided to maintain
separate bank accounts, splitting the bills and the mortgage in a fair
manner to avoid fruitless and destructive arguments about money.

Michael stepped off the elevator and put his key in the door.  Once inside,
he was delighted to get a whiff of something delicious cooking.  Eric poked
his head out of the kitchen and said, "Hey!"

Michael planted a kiss on his lips and said, "Hey you.  What're you up to?"

Eric disappeared back inside the kitchen and said over his shoulder, "Got
home a little early.  So, I decided to make dinner tonight."

Michael dropped the mail on the dining room table, set down his brief case
and started to shrug out of his coat.  "Hmmm!!  Smells delicious!"

Eric grinned back at him and said, "Glass of wine?"

"You bet!  Is it Friday?"

Eric laughed.  "Close enough!"

Michael walked into the kitchen and reached into the cupboard to retrieve a
glass.  He popped the cork of the open bottle of red and poured himself a
healthy shot.  He got his hand whacked for stealing a fresh tomato from the
salad that Eric was preparing.  He laughed and left Eric to his preparations
to sip his wine and inspect the mail.  "How was your day?" he asked as he
emerged from the kitchen.

"Fine.  Looks like we have a real shot at the Brighton account."

"That's great, Eric!"  Michael said.  And then, "Hey, you got a couple of
notices from Chase.  What's that about?"

Eric looked up quickly from the lettuce that he was tearing apart, his face
grew warm and he said, "Oh that.  It's nothing.  Just a mix up."

Michael look over at him curiously as he opened a credit card statement.  "A
mix up?"

Eric concentrated on the lettuce, "Yeah.  A mix up."

Michael waited.  Then he said flatly, "Eric.  You're a terrible liar."

"Look.  I said it was nothing, alright?"  Eric said a little too hotly.  He
began to shred the lettuce angrily.  The silence thickened between them.
Michael put down his wine and walked back into the kitchen, crossed his
strong arms across his body and leaned back against the counter.

He watched Eric carefully and said, "You don't have to tell me, Eric.  It's
your money.  It's your business."

Eric's shoulders sagged a bit and he dropped the lettuce into the bowl.  "I
bounced a couple of checks, alright?  I guess I lost track of some stuff.
The bank called me today."

"What checks did you bounce?"

"Look.  I made some phone calls.  Everything is going to be fine.  I took
care of it, okay?  I transferred some money from my savings and it's fine."

"What checks did you bounce, Eric?" he asked again quietly.

Eric sighed, "Just a couple of my credit cards and--and the mortgage
payment."

Michael took a deep breath and tensed his jaw.  He had little patience for
mismanagement of the finances.  It was one reason why they decided to keep
separate accounts.  And Eric knew it.  It was pointless to lecture him.  He
stepped quickly away from the counter and Eric flinched.  "Finish dinner.
We'll talk about this later," he said as he left the kitchen.

Dinner was delicious even if the conversation was a bit strained.  Eric lost
his patience once, "Hey, Mike, listen! I didn't mean to..."

Michael interrupted, "I said we'll talk about it later."  End of subject.
For now.

They cleared the table together and put the dishes in the sink.  When they
finished, Michael suddenly pulled Eric to him.  He grabbed a fistful of his
shoulder length hair and buried his tongue deep down Eric's throat.  He
invaded his mouth until his best friend sagged against his body and wrapped
himself in his arms.  Michael pulled his face away slightly, still gripping
his hair and stared into Eric's crystal blue eyes.  He said, "Eric.  I love
you.  You know that--"  He sighed.  "When are you going to learn?  When are
you going to grow up?"

Tears were shining in Eric's eyes.  "I'm sorry--" was all that he could
whisper.

"Don't ever lie to me, Eric!" Michael hissed, suddenly angry.  "Not ever!"

"I--I'm sorry, Michael."

Michael pushed him away and reached for Eric's belt.  He unbuckled it
roughly and pulled it from his waist.  His eyes were locked on Eric's as he
unbuttoned his pants and began pushing them down over his hips.

"Michael!  No!!  Please!!" Eric tried to push himself away.  But, Michael's
firm was grip.

Eric found himself being shoved unceremoniously over the kitchen counter,
his boxer shorts hobbled him around his knees.  "Please!!  No!!  Don't do
it!!"

Michael laid his forearm over Eric's back and held him steady while he
folded the leather strap.  Eric's tried to cover his exposed backside.
Michael grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back, holding him firmly.
He raised the belt and lowered it with all of his strength.

Eric screamed, "Nooo!!"

His pleas were ignored.  The strap came down again and again.  Red stripes
raised angrily on his backside.  He wriggled and tried to escape the
punishment.  "No please no please no-- Aaaahhhh!" as the leather crashed down
loudly. Michael's grip was like iron.   Over and over again, he brought the
belt down hard.  The loud smack of the strap echoed in the kitchen.

After an eternity, it stopped.  Michael dropped the belt to the floor.  His
breath was ragged with exertion.  Eric was sobbing.  Michael released his
grip and pulled his man into his embrace.  He held him tightly in his arms
and felt the tears soaking his shirt.  "Shhh--  ssshhh--  I'm sorry, Baby.
I'm so sorry--" he crooned, soothingly.

Eric sobbed, "No--  I-I'm sorry--  Oh, God!  I love you so much!"

"I know," Michael said as he kissed away salty tears.  "I know you do.  It's
okay."

Michael held him until Eric's tears began to subside.  He gently stroked his
hair and whispered warm assurances of devotion into his ear.  "Come on--" he
said quietly.  Eric slipped his boxers up over his stinging bottom and
cringed.  They left the kitchen together and headed for the bedroom.