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Jon shifted uncomfortably, and tried to focus on his work. He certainly had enough of it, trying to make sense of whatever Martin had decided passed for research today, on top of the Sisyphean task of untangling Gertrude’s mess. But it was hard, when sitting itself remained a constant, low-level discomfort. Not simply physical, but a reminder of how he’d already been found wanting this week.
As much as he’d dismissed Elias’s verbal admonishment, he knew Elias was right. The Institute depended on donor funding, and even without that, Jon had been abominably rude to Ms Herne. Distraught as she was, she could hardly be blamed for her own tone. And even without that, it was his duty to act professional when interacting with the public. One he struggled with even more than the organizational disaster of the Archives.
Still, it would hardly do to ignore the clear reminder the lingering pain provided, so he turned his attention back to the book in front of him, taking notes on his laptop when he found something of particular interest. He barely spared a glance for the meeting notification when it popped up, dismissing it without a thought. After all, they’d already dealt with that this week. And he was sure Elias would agree his time was better spent catching up with his work. In fact, it might be best to make it clear he was busy. To that end, he took a moment to change his status, and muted the sound as well, just make certain no one would bother him for the next couple hours. He worked best without interruptions anyway.
The minutes slipped by, and Jon fell into his work, barely noticing the pain as he dug further into the book. It was proving more interesting than expected, enough that he might even do further cross-referencing. It wasn’t a Leitner, of course. But there were some disturbing implications, and if they bore fruit—
“You missed our meeting.”
Jon let out a rather undignified yelp, head shooting up to find Elias standing in his door, giving him a rather foreboding stare.
“We already had it,” he said, knowing his irritation came through and not particularly caring. But when Elias didn’t waver, Jon found his confidence waning. “Or at least I assumed we had? Yesterday—”
“Yesterday was to address a specific incident. Unless I cancel our regular meetings, you should assume they’ll proceed as planned. Furthermore, when I sent you an email to inquire if something had come up, you failed to respond to that as well.”
Jon shut the book, eyes flicking guiltily to his laptop, where he was certain the email in question awaited him. In retrospect, turning off the notifications without checking with Elias had been a mistake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“No,” Elias said coldly. “You didn’t. Finish up whatever you’re working on, and come to my office as soon as you’re done. I expect no delays this time.”
With that, he left, not even sparing Jon a backward glance. All Jon could do was stare after him, mouth half-open with some excuse he knew would hold no weight. Elias was right. He should’ve known better. As he got to his feet, he could feel the pain increase, the movement pulling on sore skin. A reminder of what he’d tried to ignore. Best to get it over with.
As he headed out into the Archives, he passed Tim, who looked up with an odd glint in his eyes.
“What are you smiling at?” Jon said, and immediately regretted it. Better to never give Tim the opening he’d now certainly take.
“Oh, nothing. Except…” His eyes wandered to the stairs. “Pissed off the boss, did you?”
“No. There’s simply an urgent matter I must attend to,” Jon said stiffly, hoping Tim would attribute the flush he could feel suffusing to anger, rather than…other things. “Let the others know I might be a while, if they’re looking for me.”
“Sure thing, boss. Have fun.” He gave Jon a sly smile, then returned to his own work.
Jon stiffened, and took a steadying breath. It was just Tim being Tim. He didn’t know anything, and even if he did….it didn’t matter. He didn’t know. And Jon shouldn’t be late. At least not any later than he already was.
The walk to Elias’s office was almost tortuously long, and still somehow far too short. Normally, Jon looked forward to their meetings, knowing how helpful they’d proved. But since he’d become Archivist, things had gotten more difficult. And this week had been a particular trial. It wasn’t that he blamed Elias. Simply that it was harder, now, to know where he stood.
But if Elias thought he was completely hopeless, he wouldn’t have demanded that the meeting proceed as usual. So as Jon arrived at Elias’s office door, he took a final steadying breath, then knocked, not hesitating when Elias instructed him to enter.
“Lock the door,” Elias said, as if there’d ever be any doubt Jon would do that. Still, the command was reassuring, a regular part of the routine they’d established. Jon slid the lock into place, and found a tiny bit of his anxiety quieted. And his steps grew more certain, as he finally approached Elias’s cleared desk.
“I apologize again, I only thought that given our meeting yesterday, we’d postpone until next week. But I should’ve spoken with you first, and—”
Elias held up a hand, and Jon’s mouth snapped shut, teeth gritted against yet another wave of excuses. The clock ticked on, and Jon shifted uncomfortably, more uncertain than ever as to what Elias wanted. He’d assumed the meeting was so they could talk in private, so that he could provide a proper explanation, and they could discuss future expectations. But the cleared desk was a sign all its own, and when Elias opened his top drawer and pulled out the leather gloves, Jon knew he’d misunderstood again.
“I only—” His mouth worked, suddenly too dry. “I thought that, well, you weren’t exactly gentle yesterday, and because of that, it would be different.” When Elias failed to answer, simply looking at him with clear disappointment, Jon swallowed hard, and moved closer to the desk.
The first time this had happened, Jon had been horrified. At what he was doing, and who it was with. Mind spiraling as he asked himself why he’d agreed, why he was doing this, why Elias had even offered. Looking for meaning, some darker purpose, for anything, even as he’d undone his trousers and found himself bare-arsed over Elias’s desk. The torrent in his mind had continued unabated as he’d watched Elias prepare, more than once thinking he still had time to back out. That he should back out. That it was the only sane thing to do.
But then Elias had started. The torrent stopped. And Jon knew he would come back again.
Even with the less usual circumstance, his hands went to immediately to his trousers, quickly undoing the button and zipper. Like the first time, his fingers shook. But that only made him more eager to get on with it. He slid his trousers down quickly, along with his pants, letting them bunch just below his buttocks as he bent over the desk.
“Where is the gag, Jon?” Elias said softly.
Jon winced. “I thought I didn’t need it. It’s at home, I’d intended to wash it.” Another mistake. He sucked in a breath through his nose, and tried not to imagine what consequences this one might have.
“Understandable.” The sound of a drawer, and when Jon looked up, he found a length of fabric dangling in front of him. “Use this. I expect you to wash them both, and bring them back tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Jon said gratefully, standing up to grab it and bringing it to his face. Then he hesitated. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow. First thing tomorrow morning, in fact. I have meetings booked the rest of the day. You understand that I do have to discipline you for your tardiness, and your further failure to acknowledge my email.” He looked at Jon expectantly, waiting until Jon cautiously nodded. “Good. Then we can begin.”
“Except—” Jon worried the gag in his hand, twining it around his fingers. “We’re doing this today, so doesn’t that count?”
Elias smiled, but not unkindly, as he shook his head. “No. It’s best there’s no disruption in our routine. I think we can both agree it’s done wonders for your performance. Unless you’d prefer we terminate our arrangement?” His hands went to his top drawer, where he’d stored the gloves, the meaning of his actions quite clear.
“No, no. I—I agree. It’s—it helps. Quite a bit, in fact.” His face heated at the admission as he bowed his head, but it wasn’t like Elias wasn’t aware of it all anyway. And when he looked up again, he was rewarded with a firm nod, and another small smile.
“Good. Are you ready, then? And don’t worry, as I said, I want no further deviations from the schedule. It will be the same number as usual, with the additional administered tomorrow.”
His hands lingered on the gloves as Jon took a shuddering breath, before bringing the gag to his mouth and tying it into place. It wasn’t strictly required, but when it’d proved difficult for him to remain silent, Elias suggested it as a solution, one Jon had gratefully agreed to. And given his lingering sensitivity from yesterday, he suspected he’d need it more than usual.
When Jon nodded, Elias pulled the gloves on, and came around to Jon’s side of the desk as Jon bent over again. His teeth dug into the fabric of the gag as he waited for Elias to start, but as usual, Elias gave him fair warning. A light touch, one to each cheek, that Jon felt more keenly than usual. And only then did the blows begin.
The first set sparked bright across Jon’s skin, making him gasp and dig his teeth into the gag as he struggled to suppress the noises the unusually intense pain brought. Yesterday, Elias had not been gentle, making clear from the start his intent to leave a mark Jon would remember. The result had left bruises, and now the flurry of blows summoned the pain anew, the typical stinging pain underlain with a deeper ache as the blows continued to fall.
Elias kept his word as he continued. Each hit steady but not slow, five to one cheek then the other in quick succession, moving down in careful inches over the sensitive skin. Jon’s hands gripped the edge of Elias’s desk, digging into the wood as he struggled to keep still, to show Elias he could do as was expected of him. Even as he gasped and moaned at the pain into the increasingly sodden gag.
The clock struck the hour, and Elias stopped, letting Jon catch his breath. As with the blows, Elias kept to his routine, tracing a circles over Jon’s inflamed flesh. Examining his work, and determining if it met his own exacting criteria. Or least that was what Jon had always assumed, and he didn’t much care what the reason was. Not when he knew it was the one of the few breaks he’d get.
The clock ticked up another minute, and Elias began again. The second round was always harsher, an adjustment once Jon had grown accustomed to the initial, lighter pain. As overwhelming as that had been, this proved even more unbearable, no longer simply stinging but adding bruises upon bruises, as Jon struggled for breath, struggled to keep still. Knowing that if he moved away from Elias’s touch, it would be yet another failure. One he couldn’t bear, not on top of everything else.
Again, Elias stopped, this time leaving Jon to retrieve two more items from his desk. A paddle, and a bottle of salve. Surprising Elias hadn’t grabbed them initially, but given Jon’s own failure to adhere to protocol, he could hardly fault Elias for this particular oversight. And in many ways, it was a relief to see them, to know that Elias wouldn’t omit these last steps. That whatever Jon’s failures, Elias would still grant him this luxury.
But there was another round yet, shorter than the previous ones but the harshest yet. Elias set the bottle on the desk, and raised the paddle as Jon braced himself for the impact. When it came, he couldn’t stifle his shout. He desperately hoped the gag was enough to muffle it, and the whimpers that followed. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed anymore. Not when Elias’s paddle fell upon him, relentless, leaving him smarting and moaning even once Elias had set it back on the desk.
The silence that followed seemed endless, as Jon waited for Elias to conduct his final assessment. This time not touching, simply looking, though Jon hadn’t the faintest what he got out of it. Whatever it was, Jon couldn’t help but appreciate it, as he struggled to remain in place against the desk. The intensity of this meeting had left him hard, and while he was certain Elias would remain professional about it, he’d prefer the chance to let it pass before it was noticed. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it had never been quite so…extreme. He just hoped the aftermath was long enough for it to subside as usual.
He sucked in a breath, and then another, struggling with the gag but glad for it. It was an excuse not to speak, permission to keep his communication to whimpers and gasps as Elias removed his leather gloves, and replaced them with disposable latex ones, before squirting some of the salve onto his hands. He worked it into the stinging, bruised skin, making Jon hiss at the points where it had broken.
“I’m sorry,” Elias said as he rubbed one of them, making Jon squirm. “But there won’t be any permanent damage, and you didn’t give me much choice.”
Jon nodded, though he knew Elias didn’t really expect a response. Instead, he focused on his breathing, the way his eyes blurred. He blinked, trying to clear them, and it was only when water dripped down his cheeks that he realized he was crying again. Another thing he’d like to be over before Elias realized, as he blinked again, and hoped that would be enough. All while trying to focus on the sensations of Elias carefully massaging the salve into his tender skin.
“Perfect,” Elias said, and Jon found himself flushing again. He let his eyes fall shut as he listened to Elias clean up, disposing of the latex gloves and putting the leather ones back in the drawer, alongside the salve and paddle. Only then did he feel a hand on his shoulder, his cue to stand on shaky legs, and remove the gag from his mouth.
Elias held out a plastic bag, and Jon put the gag inside, tying it shut and tucking it into his pocket as best he could while he gingerly pulled up his trousers and pants. Sitting would be a nightmare, but at least it’d be quite the reminder to not forget again. Not their regular meeting, and not the additional one that awaited him tomorrow morning.
When he looked up again, he found Elias holding out a handkerchief. Jon stared at it confusion, until Elias gave it a little shake. Hesitantly, he took it, bringing it to his face and pulling it away wet. Right. Because of the crying.
“I—”
Elias shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You did wonderfully.” He gripped Jon’s shoulder, and gave him a nod. “I know I can be harsh. But it’s because I know how much potential you have. I understand that the new position is stressful, but I believe that’s all the more reason to enforce strict discipline, as well as continuing our weekly meetings. While it might hurt now, in the long run, it’s for the best.”
The warm smile he gave Jon made his stomach twist, with emotions he couldn’t—didn’t want—to name. So instead he nodded, and turned towards the door, stopped by Elias’s hand on his shoulder.
“Elias?”
Elias nodded to the small sofa along one wall, giving Jon’s shoulder a final squeeze. “Take as long as you’d like to compose yourself. You know I want you at your best.” With that, he went back to his desk, bringing out his laptop and returning to work as if nothing untoward had passed between them. But then, it all was routine.
Jon’s teeth dug into his lips, eyes darting between the door and the sofa. If he went back to work now, someone would almost certainly spot his reddened eyes. But then again, he did have work to do, and he might make it back without seeing anyone. And he could always say it was allergies. The dust in the Archives really was quite terrible.
“Thank you. But I think we both know I have other matters to attend to.”
Elias didn’t look up from his work as Jon headed for the door, but when Jon glanced back, he saw the small smile crossing Elias’s lips, and left feeling far lighter than when he’d entered.