Artist/Author: rosesofred
Title: Learn To Listen
Fandom: Prodigal Son
Summary: Malcolm just can’t listen, can he?
Notes & Warnings: spanking
Pulling up to his son’s apartment, Gil sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to punishing his son again but he knew he had to, that it wasn’t much of a choice. He’d promised to come by and a promise was a promise. Bailing now or letting the boy off easy would just make Malcolm question his authority and probably spiral again. Squinting to get a better look, Gil leaned forward in his seat to look at the man approaching the boy’s loft. Was that… Malcolm? Realizing that it was, Gil opened his door and grabbed the ruler from his passenger seat, a heavy feeling in his chest.
He watched as the boy walked past the front door, stopped and turned back to face it. Then he took a step forward, before stopping again and wringing out his hands. This made Gil smile as he realized what was happening. His son had tried to run, to avoid his punishment but made the conscious choice to come back and take his punishment. He was just having cold feet, a hard time deciding to enter his apartment and wait like he’d been told. Arroyo waited, leaning up against his car to see the situation unfold before him. He checked his watch, 6:55. He’d give the young man 5 more minutes before approaching, see if he made the right choice.
Malcolm began pacing, walking back and forth from one side of the sidewalk to the other, obviously torn between running or staying. Finally he walked back to the door, hands clenched into fists and stood there for a moment. Taking this as his cue to approach, Gil walked across the street, being careful not to startle the boy. “I’m proud of you, Malcolm.”
Bright’s head snapped up to look at him, his eyes wide and puppy-like. “You’re here,” he commented.
“Nothing gets past you,” Arroyo smiled. “Come on, lets go inside.”
Unlocking the door with shaky hands, Malcolm showed the man in, stopping to stand still once he was inside his apartment. Clearing his throat, he said in his most confident voice, “Can I make you a drink?”
“I don’t think so,” Gil answered. “We should get this over with, don’t you think?”
“Can’t we… can’t we talk first?”
“Alright, what do you have to say?” Gil folded his arms, making Malcolm very aware of the ruler he held in his left hand.
Eyes bugging out at the sight of it, Bright bit his lip, his anxiety beginning to boil up. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “But you already punished me, in your office.”
“You think that was enough?”
“Yes! I mean, it was lighter than normal, but you did- I did- I mean, it’s already done!” Malcolm took a step back, unaware of his posture becoming timid.
“So you don’t feel guilty,” Gil noted.
“No, I do-”
“Then the spanking wasn’t enough.” Arroyo took a step forward, his demeanor confident.
There was that horrible word. Malcolm felt a blush forming and tightened his fists. “It was!”
“What was?” Another step.
“The- you know, the punishment. It was enough.”
“Not if you still feel guilty. Wouldn’t you like to be forgiven?” Closer now.
“Of course, I just-” how had Gil gotten so close? Malcolm felt his heartbeat quicken, panic shooting through him. He turned to run but felt Gil’s hand clamp over his shoulder, holding him in place.
“Don’t run from me,” Gil ordered.
“I’m not, I just- can’t this be enough?” Malcolm tried to pull away from the man but Gil held him firmly in place. “Do you have to?”
“I was proud of you for coming back after you ran, don’t make me change my mind.”
A heavy feeling filled Malcolm’s gut at that thought, that his mentor would be disappointed in him. Swallowing hard, Bright straightened his back, standing up tall.
“Are you going to behave?” Gil wasn’t so sure about etting the boy go but he wanted to have some faith in him.
Nodding his head, Malcolm spoke in a small voice, “yes.”
“Good.” Gil walked over to the couch, sitting down in the center of it. “Come here,” he ordered. Malcolm walked slowly over to him, stopping just in front of him. “Take your pants down.”
“What? Gil, no!”
“You heard me. The pants are coming down.”
“But-”
“I know you can do it.”
Taking a deep breath, Bright stared hard at the floor. He wanted to make his mentor proud, but taking down his own pants? He hated having them lowered during his punishments, this was humiliating! But Gil trusted him to do what he was told, and he didn’t want to make the man regret his decision. Plus being manhandled if he didn’t obey seemed far worse than being allowed to do it himself. His hands shaking, Malcolm slowly undid in belt, taking his time in unzipping his pants. With one determined move, he shoved his pants down to rest at his knees, hands in angry fists at his side.
“Good.” Gil moved back, making room for Malcolm to lie himself over his lap. “You know what’s next.
A deep blush covered Bright’s face and he bit his lip hard. Gil noticed and took note of it, wondering how long ago Malcolm had started doing that. It wasn’t normal for the boy to bite his lip, he hoped he didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood. “Please, can’t you-...” Malcolm shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“You want me to put you over my knee?”
“No!” Malcolm took a step back, grabbing at his pants to pull them back up.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Malcolm. You try to run from this and I’m spanking you bare. But if you come here, you get to keep your underwear on. Deal?”
Stopping half way, Bright stared at his mentor, seriously considering his offer. He knew that if he ran, Gil would no doubt track him down and probably give him a punishment twice as bad. So what could he do? The idea of being allowed the dignity of his underwear seemed appealing but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He took a cautious step forward, standing at his mentor’s side, and looked down at his lap. He just had to lower himself down, take his punishment like a good son. Could he? Malcolm leaned forward but stopped again, stepping back once more as his anxiety built.
“I can’t,” the consultant tried.
“You can,” Gil corrected.
Sighing and rubbing a hand across his tired face, Malcolm built up his nerve, pushing down his anxiety. “I can do this,” he said to himself. Gil smiled at hearing the boy encourage himself, proud beyond measure at how far he’d come. A few months ago if he’d tried to get Malcolm to do this the boy would be miles away, having run from his punishment. In one quick move the boy suddenly flung himself down, landing hard across his mentor’s knees. It almost startled Gil but he didn’t show it. The lieutenant rested a warm hand on the boy’s back, rubbing gently.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said affectionately.
Grunting in annoyance, Malcolm readjusted himself, very uncomfortable in this position. “Just get it over with.”
Nodding his head in understanding, Gil lifted the ruler, tapping it a few times on the boy’s backside. It made the younger man flinch but neither one commented on it. “I’m giving you twenty five.” He snapped it down, making Malcolm jolt and let out a yelp that didn’t sound much different from a kicked puppy. Gil brought it down again, harder than before and watched as Malcolm squirmed across his lap. This was going to be a hard punishment for him, he could tell.
Arroyo lifted it again, higher in the air, and brought it down with a resounding thwack. The lieutenant imagined it hurt about as bad as it sounded. But Malcolm said nothing, instead shifting his hips and crossing his legs to cope with the sting. Gil brought it down five times in quick succession until the boy let out a muffled cry, trying in vain to keep quiet. “You can be loud if you need to, Malcolm. Let it all out.” He rubbed the boy’s back as he said this, noticing how tense his son’s shoulders were.
He brought the ruler down two more times before Malcolm’s hands shot back, stopping at his thighs for a moment before bringing them back to his front.
“Do I need to restrain your arms?” He expected an answer from Malcolm but all he got was a shake of the head. Feeling something was wrong, Gil leaned forward to look at his face and was horrified to see blood trickling down the boy’s chin. “Malcolm!” Arroyo threw the ruler down, grabbing his son’s jaw in one hand and using the other to make him stop biting his lip. “Stop it,” he ordered, making the boy let go of his abused lip. Gil guided the boy to stand up, holding him in place between his knees. “Let me see.” He examined his lip, upset to find that the boy had split it open with his teeth. Arroyo gave him a long, hard look before waving a finger in his face, scolding. “Do I need to make you wear your mouth guard?” Malcolm shook his his vehemently. “Then don’t bite your lip. No biting. Do you understand me?”
“Yes sir,” Bright said with pouty eyes.
“Good.” He grabbed Malcolm by the arm, lowering him across his left knee to continue the spanking. “I’m giving you five more for that.”
“No, Gil!”
“Don’t argue with me young man, you’re on thin ice.” Gil grabbed the ruler again, bringing it down hard on the boy’s backside. Malcolm squirmed, his hands going for one of the pillows on the couch. Another blow landed and Bright hid his head under the pillow like an ostrich. “You don’t bite your lip,” Arroyo scolded. “You listen to me when I tell you no,” another two hits on his sit spots. “You don’t lie to me or to anyone else for that matter.”
“Ok!” Malcolm barked, muffled by the pillow and couch. Gil gave him five more, all over his backside, the younger man tensing and squirming like a worm in the sun.
“You want to tell me why you’re here?” Another 3 blows, all in the same spot.
“No lying!” Another hard smack with the dreaded ruler. “Listen to you,” Malcolm threw the pillow across the room, grunting in frustration. “No biting!” Gil brought it down three more times, repeating the pattern.
“Good. And why is that wrong?”
Malcolm bucked his hips, throwing his hands back to guard his backside. “No more! Please I don’t want to do this again!”
Sighing, Gil grabbed the boy’s hand by the wrist, resting the ruler on his palm. “You don’t reach back, son.” Arroyo snapped the ruler down, a horrible yelp escaping Malcolm’s lips as he scrunched up in pain. Malcolm beat his free hand against the couch, kicking his feet back and forth in anger. “You going to throw a tantrum now?”
“No!” Malcolm cried.
“Then I suggest you stop, unless you want corner time.” He released the boy’s hand, resting the ruler against his posterior again. “You’ve only got four more. Now why is doing all of that bad?”
“Because nobody will trust me, I need to trust you, and I can’t be reckless.”
“Good.” Gil brought the ruler down four times on Malcolms sit spot, making the boy squirm and struggle in pain. “We’re all done,” Gil soothed. He put the ruler down beside him, rubbing a hand across the boy’s back in comfort. Grabbing onto the boy’s underpants, Malcolm hollered in surprise, twisting his body and reaching back to stop him. “Malcolm, let go. I need to check the damage.”
“No, you said I could keep them up!”
“For the punishment,” Gil explained. “Now let go or I’m giving you five more.”
Malcolm frowned at him, though Gil was happy to see no more fresh blood coming from his lip. “No, you don’t need to check!”
“I have to make sure I didn’t really hurt you.” Gil tried to tug them down but Malcolm had a death grip on his boxers. Sighing softly, Gil let go and reached for the ruler, causing Malcolm to panic.
“No! No no, you said it was done!”
“Let go or I’m using this on you,” Gil ordered. He rested it against the boy’s hot backside in warning, steeling himself to punish the boy further.
A long moment passed before Malcolm finally let go, slowly bringing his hands to rest in front of him. Glad that the boy had finally listened to him, Gil carefully lowered the young man’s boxers to join his pants. The consultant’s backside was a deep red, stripes here and there from where Gil had hit him in succession. Otherwise it didn’t look like any lasting damage was present, and for that Arroyo was thankful. Seriously hurting his son was the last thing he ever wanted to do, even if it was by accident.
“Alright, thankyou,” Gil said calmly. He pulled up the man’s underwear and pants, helping him fix his clothing before guiding him to stand up. “I am proud of you, Malcolm. You took that well.”
Bright looked up at him through his eyelashes, a sad look on his young face. “It’s not happening again,” he informed.
“I guess we’ll see,” Gil agreed. He stood up, arms open wide as he gathered his son into a hug. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”
“I can do it myself, Gil,” Malcolm said sharply.
“Watch the attitude, kid.” Arroyo smiled as he felt Malcolm rest his head against his shoulder, glad to have the whole ordeal over with. If only he could get his son to listen to him, he wouldn’t have to keep punishing him. But knowing Malcolm, Gil was sure there was a lot more of those to come.