Work Text:
A Complicated Dance
‘And just what time do you call this?’
Shoes in hand, Jack Whiley grimaced, frozen in place with one socked foot mere millimeters from making contact with the stair carpet. He’d thought he’d lucked out, had made it home before any of the Tops noticed he’d gone. He’d been elated that he hadn’t been caught breaking curfew. But the serious tone of Haz Stryker-Wilde’s voice punctured his relief faster than a pin popping a balloon. Apparently, he hadn’t been as lucky as he’d thought.
He blew out a silent curse in a soft breath before pasting on his most winning smile and turning to face the displeased Top.
‘C’mon, Haz. I’m not that late,’ he wheedled, widening his big brown eyes appealingly. They’d served him well in the past, gotten him top marks in his begging and pleading classes. Surely they’d help mollify the stern expression on the Sophomore Top’s face.
Haz pursed his lips and then raised an eyebrow, nodding pointedly at the grandfather clock standing judgementally in the hall, right next to the ominous paddle pegboard.
‘You’re thirty-three minutes late, young man.’
Jack wrinkled his nose. Most normal people would just round down. What was three minutes beside the half hour? But no, not Haz Stryker-Wilde. If anything, he was finickier than Nic Masters, and that was saying something.
‘I got lost?’ Jack tried.
Haz snorted. ‘That might’ve worked if you’d only been here a couple of weeks instead of a year and a bit. There’s no way you got yourself lost on campus. Unless… Haz trailed off, eyes narrowing. ‘You were on campus, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir, I was. Promise,’ Jack said, nodding so quickly he nearly made himself dizzy. It was one thing being late for curfew; it was quite another being in trouble for leaving campus without permission.
‘Hmm.’ Haz studied him carefully, and Jack swallowed nervously at the sensation of being under the microscope.
‘I was at KNK,’ Jack said sincerely. ‘With Nate, Kevin and Brad. Our campaign went on too late I guess.’
‘Yes. Thirty-three minutes too late,’ Haz said. ‘I’d’ve thought Kevin at least would’ve known better, kicked you out.’
Jack hesitated, torn between weaseling out of extra trouble and dropping his friend in it. Haz caught the hesitation and lifted his other eyebrow. Jack sighed, surrendering.
‘He did. But the way home goes past the ASS soreority and I kinda got talking to Ta…uh…someone.’
Haz blew out a weary breath and massaged his temples before fixing Jack with an unimpressed glare. ‘If you’re going to meet up with your girlfriend, then you do it with plenty of time to spare, understand?’
‘She’s not my…I mean, yes, sir,’ Jack said, hastily backtracking and giving the expected response as Haz’s nostrils flared.
Haz studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. ‘Right. Well, you’ve earned yourself a good spanking, missing curfew. Go collect your paddle from the board.’
The protest escaped before he could even think to stop it. ‘Haaaaaazzzzzzz.’
Haz’s lips twitched. ‘Even my Sunday name doesn’t have that many syllables. Stop whining and do as you’re told, Jack. Paddle. Now.’
‘But…but…’ Jack couldn’t get his brain to cooperate to create the eloquent protests he’d used on his AP last year. He’d barely been spanked by Burnsy at all, so talented were his excuses. But the Tops at the cottage, even the less experienced ones like Haz, were a whole other level of determined.
‘The only butt that interests me right now is yours,’ Haz added, smirking slightly as Jack reddened.
‘That’s an awful line,’ he grumbled, shuffling over to the pegboard to obey.
‘Why thank you. I stole it from Nic,’ Haz grinned. He held out his hand for the paddle. ‘Bring it here.’
Jack lifted down the hated implement, the familiar weight not at all comforting. He trudged back to where Haz was waiting with an outstretched hand and passed it over.
‘Let’s go take care of this in the study,’ Haz said with a soft smile.
Jack winced. ‘The study? Ugh, do we have to?’
‘I’m not beating your bare butt out here in the hall. I’m trying to do you a favour, brat.’
‘Some favour,’ Jack scoffed. ‘Walking me through the lounge in front of everybody? Why not throw a ticker tape parade while you’re at it?’
‘Being a sassmouth isn’t going to help your cause. Are you coming, or do I have to drag you by your ear, hmm?’
Jack stared, open mouthed, for a moment, before letting out a sigh that seemed to come from the marrow of his bones. ‘You are annoyingly good at that,’ he grumbled, stalking ahead of the amiable Top.
‘Good at what?’
‘The squirmy threats. Been taking classes in it?’
‘Um, yes actually. Thank you. I think.’
Jack rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the lounge, letting Haz pass through in front of him. For a split second, he considered making a run for it to teach the Top not to be so trusting or so easily distracted. But…it was late, and he was tired and in enough trouble already given that it was the third time he’d missed curfew. Frankly, he couldn’t be bothered kicking up much of a fuss and making things worse for himself. Perhaps this was that ‘growth’ thing his parents were always nagging him about.
Thankfully, due to the late hour, the lounge was mostly empty, with just a couple of the Seniors still up watching Real Tradwives on the TV. Trip Stryker-Wilde was sprawled out on the floor hugging a beanbag cushion, while Max Watts lay on the sofa using Nic Masters’ knee as a pillow. All three Seniors glanced up as Haz led the way towards the Tops’ study, and twin grins split the brats’ faces.
‘Uh, oh. Someone’s in trouble,’ Max sing-songed softly, squeaking as Nic dropped a warning swat on his thigh.
‘We don’t make fun, Maxwell,’ Nic scolded lightly, before resuming carding his fingers through Max’s soft blond hair.
Meanwhile Trip Stryker-Wilde had sat up and was watching his brother walk Jack to the study with obvious enjoyment. ‘Ooh, fun. Hazzy’s gonna practice his Top thing. Can we watch?’
Haz stopped and gave his brother a poisonous look. ‘Any nonsense from you, brother dearest, and you’ll be next.’
Trip’s nostrils flared in challenge, but Nic reached over and gave his ear a sharp flick. ‘Behave, brat,’ he warned.
Despite his apprehension at his imminent paddling, Jack couldn’t suppress his small smile. It was the best thing about living in the cottage- about attending RBU period. The lifestyle was everywhere, woven into the fabric of normal everyday life. Jack loved it, loved the freedom of existing within defined rules and the security of having people around who got it. Even when in trouble, like now, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Though, when Haz pushed open the door to the study and beckoned him to follow, he did wish that the lifestyle wasn’t quite so…hands on all the time.
‘C’mon, Jack. Let’s get this done.’
Jack sighed, then straightened his shoulders and followed Haz into the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The study, while a Tops only without an invitation zone, was depressingly familiar to all the brats and bottoms who lived at the KNK cottage. It was the place where all serious talks - and all serious ‘talks’ - happened.
Haz sat down in one of the squashy armchairs, beckoning briskly. Jack groaned openly; he hadn’t been expecting an over the knee spanking. He’d assumed he’d be getting a few quick paddle swats bent over the large table that dominated the other half of the room - allegedly a communal study space for the Tops but used for disciplinary purposes more often than not. But being turned over Haz’s knee, bared and vulnerable? That was much more of an ordeal; emotional and personal, not something to be endured through gritted teeth.
Haz clicked his fingers impatiently. ‘What’s the hold up?’
Jack reddened and gave the table a longing look. ‘Can’t you just…double me over the table or something? Please?’
Haz shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. Naughty boys who miss curfew for the third time don’t have the luxury of a few formal swats. Besides, I’m keeping you close to keep an eye on you.’
‘Haz!’ Jack’s face felt hotter than the sun. ‘That’s awful.’
‘I think you like it really,’ Haz replied, white teeth gleaming. ‘I think you like knowing where you stand. I think - no, I know - that you walked in that door thirty-three minutes late because this is what you were looking for. Someone to see you. Someone to hold you accountable. Someone to spank your little bottom until you make those adorable little squealy yelps you make.’
‘Oh my god!’ Jack muttered, his stomach twisting in mortification. ‘Please stop.’
‘Only when you’re over my knee, brat. You want the words to stop, then let's get on with the actions.’
Jack shucked his jeans and undies and practically threw himself over Haz’s knee. Anything to get him to shut up.
Haz laughed and patted Jack’s bare bottom affectionately. ‘Wow, that actually worked. I didn’t believe it when Professor Kraken talked about it in class.’
‘I’m not a lifestyle studies experiment,’ Jack grumbled, folding his arms in a complicated tangle. He squirmed as Haz patted his bottom again, making the nerves there tingle with anticipation.
‘No, you’re not,’ Haz agreed. ‘You just keep me on my toes.’
Before Jack could reply, Haz smacked the paddle down on Jack’s butt, leaving a stingy, tingling imprint. Jack yelped, then buried his face in his arms when he realised he’d given the exact ‘squealy yelp’ reaction that Haz had mentioned. He winced against his forearms as Haz began raining down rhythmic swats on his bottom.
‘Couldn’t you at least - oof! - have given me - ah! - a warm up with your ha - AH! - and first?’
‘Nope,’ Haz replied calmly, adding torturous layers of sting to Jack’s no-doubt-pinkening butt. ‘This is punishment, brat. You were late. For the third time. You don’t get niceties like a warm up when you’re being punished.’
‘Warm ups aren’t - OWOWOW! They’re not - sniff - not n-nice.’
Jack kicked and sniffled, tears beginning to trail down his cheeks. Never one to take a spanking in dignified silence, it was still mortifying how quickly the Sophomore Top was reducing him to a crying mess with a throbbing bottom.
‘Maybe not nice,’ Haz agreed. ‘But also not necessary. I find that hard lessons are learned with…well, harder treatment. Something that will last. Which reminds me…’ Haz paused in his paddling of Jack’s poor bottom, no doubt to ensure he had Jack’s full attention. ‘You’re also grounded until Monday.’
‘WHAT?!!’
Jack’s shriek of outrage could probably have been heard as far as Lexanton. He twisted wildly, wiggling and fighting to try to turn and face the Top. There was just no dignity in getting scolded ass up over a knee.
‘You know what grounded means,’ Haz said, using his elbow to pin the now furious and struggling brat in place.
‘OH FUCK NO. YOU CAN’T DO THAT,’ Jack yelled, outraged.
He twisted his body the other direction in a futile attempt to break Haz’s hold, rage bubbling hotly in his chest. It wasn’t fair, getting grounded as well as being paddled. He had plans for the weekend, detailed ones involving some alone time with his maybe-girlfriend (in fact, part of the plan involved clarifying what they were to each other). Not to mention continuing the DND campaign with the guys in the main frat house. And the party on Saturday night.
‘I think you’ll find that I can,’ Haz said evenly, sounding annoyingly unbothered by Jack’s fighting and arguing. ‘And watch your language,’ he added, almost cheerfully. The asshole.
‘MY LANGUAGE? FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU. AND YOUR GROUNDING.’
Jack screeched as Haz snapped the paddle sharply against the back of his thighs, boiling hot sting erupting where he’d struck. Jack kicked and wriggled more frantically, earning himself another couple of scorching pops.
‘I told you to watch your language. And I absolutely can and will ground you.’
‘But…but…IT’S NOT FAIR.’
Jack was temporarily distracted from his tantrum by the door to the study opening. A familiar dark head poked through revealing Nic Masters wearing his ‘what the hell is going on’ expression (raised eyebrows, lips pursed, but somehow different from his ‘you’re in trouble’ expression and his ‘I suggest you rethink your course of action, mister’ expression. Really it was amazing what Nic could say with a flick of his eyebrows and a quirk of his lips).
‘Is everything alright? I heard yelling, and not the normal kind.’
With the distraction of Nic’s arrival, Jack tried once more to scramble off Haz’s lap. Haz wrestled him back in place and swatted his bottom, hard. Jack squealed and looked desperately at the newly-arrived Top.
‘Nic, It’s not FAIR! Haz paddled me AND now he says he’s GROUNDING me. Tell him he can’t do that!’
Nic’s eyebrows danced a complicated lecture, a small furrow appearing between them as he studied the scene. Jack supposed he made a pitiful sight, his no doubt cherry-red bottom on full display with his pants round his ankles. He flexed his feet, suddenly realising they weren’t trapped by rumpled denim, and blushed furiously. He must’ve kicked them off during the spanking, or perhaps during his bid for freedom. Nic’s eyebrows seemed to reach ever loftier heights as he gazed at him, and Jack felt his face heat further and a small ball of shame coil deep in his belly. He hunched his shoulders in response and ducked his head under the formidable Senior’s cool Look.
‘I was addressing Haz, brat. You hold your tongue.’
Jack cringed and looked away, fixing his attention on the floor. It was quite a nice one, really, gorgeous polished hardwood with a parquet pattern. Just right for studying when you didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes. The kitchen floor was pretty good for that too, though not the bedroom carpets. They were a boring greige. Really the powers-that-be ought to have chosen something more interesting.
‘Jack and I are just coming to an understanding,’ Jack heard Haz say over the top of his prone body. ‘He is under the impression that a grounding on top of a paddling is excessive. I beg to differ.’
‘How long did you ground him for?’
‘Until Monday.’
Nic tutted disapproval, and Jack lifted his head, hope beating optimistically in his chest.
‘I think a week Monday would be more appropriate if you’re in agreement,’ Nic said, still addressing Haz. ‘It is, after all, Thursday. And he has been late three times recently.’ Nic’s attention swivelled to Jack, his cool gaze locking on Jack’s face. ‘Not to mention the little tantrum he just threw.’
Jack felt his jaw drop, but his angry protest caught in his throat as Nic silenced him with a single raised eyebrow. Sighing heavily, Jack went limp over Haz’s lap.
‘Good boy,’ Nic praised, the two words trickling down Jack’s spine like soothing honey. Against his will, his lips curved into a soft smile, unseen by everyone except the polished wooden floor.
‘Niiiiiiicccccc?’
Trip Stryker-Wilde’s loud complaint, familiar to all those who lived in the cottage, called through from the lounge. Nic rolled his eyes fondly at the sound and turned to leave.
‘I can see you’ve got it all under control,’ he said to Haz. ‘But yell if you need me. Not you, brat,’ he added, giving Jack a tolerant smile. ‘If I have to come in again, I’ll ground you for a month, and paddle you myself. Once Haz has finished with you of course.’
‘Finished?’ Jack twisted round to look beseechingly at Haz, who patted his bottom with the paddle. Jack gaped at him, horror-struck. In all the excitement, he’d forgotten he’d been mid paddling when Nic had interrupted.
‘Yes. Once he’s finished,’ Nic said with a grin, winking at Haz. ‘So I suggest you behave yourself, Jack Whiley.’
Nic closed the door behind him, leaving awkward silence behind. Jack sucked in a deep breath, then broke it.
‘Haz? Um…sir? I’m sorry I said you couldn’t ground me. I didn’t mean it,’ he offered meekly.
To his surprise, Haz chuckled and ruffled his hair. ‘Oh, I know,’ he said. ‘You’d’ve called Red if you’d meant it. I don’t…I don’t mind you fighting me. In fact…I quite like it. Means you’re comfortable with me, that you feel safe.’
‘Oh.’ Jack mulled it over. ‘So…we’re cool?’
‘Totally cool. Apart from your ass, of course.’
Jack groaned, sagging at both the terrible joke and the feel of the paddle being laid against his sore butt.
‘C’mon, let’s finish this and then I’ll make you hot chocolate that way you like.’
Jack sighed, then nodded. ‘Fine. But only because it’ll make you feel better too.’