A Hot Mess

Summary: When Barry finally gets back to his own dimension and time, he tells Bruce everything…and reveals that he disobeyed the older man’s explicit instructions
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the Flash 2023; AU; references to canonical violence and character death

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“Let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly.” Bruce leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, and raised an eyebrow. “You did exactly what I warned you against. You went back in time, and you changed everything, even after I told you, even after I warned you, not to risk it?”

Barry squirmed. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything wrong…or, rather, he hadn’t felt like that at the time. But now, hearing it from Bruce, he couldn’t help feeling like a small child being scolded. “I only changed one thing…!” he protested. “How could I have know that a simple act like putting the tomatoes in my mom’s cart would change so much?”

“For a start, because I told you,” Bruce replied. “But you didn’t need to hear it from me. You already knew how dangerous was, that there was no way to be certain what could happen, even before you told me about going back in time the first time. If you’d thought there was nothing wrong with going back in time and changing things, you would have done it the moment you realised you could.”

Barry couldn’t hold eye contact with Bruce, and he looked down, beginning to scuff his foot along the ground. Then, realising that all he was doing was making himself look even more like a guilty child being scolded, he stopped. “I just thought I should wait before I did anything,” he muttered. Besides…he hadn’t even thought about what to change until Iris had made enough comments to make him consider making the small change.

Bruce rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. “I understand how tempted you were to change things. I would have been tempted too, in a similar situation. But that doesn’t mean it’s right to do.”

Barry opened his mouth, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. An apology? A claim that he didn’t know what would happen? Both were true, but the latter wouldn’t be entirely honest. After all, Bruce was right. He’d known that something could go wrong, even before the older man had warned him against going back in time.

Bruce waited, raising his eyebrows. After a few moments, he asked, “Do you have anything to say?”

Anything to say? Before what? Barry couldn’t do anything other than stare at Bruce, at a loss for words. He should apologise; offer an explanation. But he’d done both of those already and repeating them probably wouldn’t make a difference in Bruce’s eyes.

A heavy sigh escaped Bruce’s lips and he shook his head. He hadn’t been smiling before, but he looked even more grim now. “I suppose there’s no point in dragging this out any further.” He walked over and sat down on one of the armchairs, then pinned Barry with a stern look and said, “Come here.”

Barry shuffled from one foot to the other and said, inarticulately, “What?”

“I’m going to spank you.”

The words hung in the air between them. Barry stared at Bruce, open-mouthed, waiting for the older man to laugh; to say he was only joking.

The trouble was, Barry had never heard Bruce crack a joke. Not even once. In fact, he was reasonably sure that Batman was incapable of being anything other than dark, brooding and mysterious.

And now, apparently, stern.

“Barry. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“But why?” Barry burst out. “I mean…you’re Batman. Batman doesn’t spank.”

“Perhaps you should talk to one of my Robins.” Bruce’s comment was muttered so softly, Barry was almost sure he hadn’t heard it at all. Speaking a bit louder, he said, “You disobeyed a direct order. You put yourself in danger by attempting to recreate the accident that gave you your powers, twice. And while you can’t be blamed for the destruction of another world, since it could have been destroyed anyway, your actions really didn’t help that world at all.”

“But I didn’t mean to…!” Barry’s voice trailed off into a tiny, guilt-filled whisper. He’d already made excuses, and Bruce had made it clear that those excuses weren’t going to be accepted. But still…. “I don’t want a spanking,” he whispered, even as his feet carried him over to stand in front of the older man. He began to fidget, twisting his hands together nervously. He hadn’t planned to submit. After all, he definitely didn’t want to be spanked. But he liked Bruce. And he respected the older man. And Bruce thought he deserved to be spanked….

“Relax, Barry.” Bruce made an obvious attempt to gentle his tone as he reached out and placed his hand on Barry’s, stilling the fidgeting. “I’m going to punish you, but that doesn’t mean I’m angry with you. We’re going to get past this.” Taking a gentle but firm hold of Barry’s hands, he drew him in closer and then deftly undid the button and zipper on his pants.

A blush stained Barry’s cheeks as he was tugged forward, into position across Bruce’s lap. He could put his feet on the ground, but that meant he couldn’t brace his hands on the floor, resulting in him feeling like he’d topple forward, onto his head. So he pressed his palms against the carpet, bracing himself…which had the result of him pushing his bottom higher up over Bruce’s lap, leaving it the highest point of his body.

Bruce didn’t waste any time, tugging down Barry’s pants and underwear. Then, before Barry could fully deal with the embarrassment of being bared, he began to smack…hard, ringing swats that echoed through the room.

Initially, Barry had assumed the smacks wouldn’t hurt so much. After all, he healed fast, thanks to his abilities. But Bruce wasn’t just smacking one spot and moving on. He swatted the same spot multiple times before moving on to the next, ensuring that the sting would linger once he moved to the next area.

It didn’t take long for Barry to begin squirming, tiny whimpers escaping. When Bruce reached his thighs and began swatting skin he’d already paid attention to, Barry felt tears fill his eyes and he threw his hand back to try and cover his stinging, aching bottom. “I’m sorry!” he cried out.

“I know, Barry.” Bruce took hold of Barry’s hand and squeezed it gently, before moving it to the small of his back and holding it there. “But being sorry doesn’t change what happened. You need to be more mindful next time, Barry. If I tell you to do something, or not to do something, I have a good reason for it. And you should listen to me.” He delivered a series of harder, sharper swats with the last three words.

Tears fell from Barry’s eyes and a sob escaped from his lips. He put his head down and used his free hand to brace himself against the floor, digging his fingers into the carpet. He began to yelp as Bruce began to target his sit spots and the tops of his thighs, turning them into a blazing inferno. The first sob that had escaped him was quickly followed by more and Barry slumped over Bruce’s lap, only shifting a little in reaction to the swats.

Bruce delivered a final flurry of smacks to Barry’s sit spots and thighs and then paused, speaking in a stern voice, letting his hand rest on Barry’s lower back. “What will you do the next time I tell you not to do something?”

“I’ll listen to you,” Barry promised. “I’ll do what you say. I’ll stay safe.”

“Good.” Bruce moved his hand back to Barry’s bottom and delivered another dozen firm swats.

Barry cried out at each smack, but he couldn’t do anything other than accept the punishment. By this point, he was crying too hard to talk…even to put voice to any apologies.

Bruce pulled Barry’s underwear and pants back into place, then helped him to stand and placed both hands on his shoulders. “I don’t want to do this again, Barry,” he said. “I hope you’ll listen to me next time.”

“I will.” Sniffling quietly, Barry wiped at his eyes. The sting in his bottom was already beginning to fade…but the sting of embarrassment was lingering. He didn’t know how he was going to recover from that.

“That’s all I ask.” Bruce gently squeezed his shoulders. Then, he let go and leaned back in the chair. “I have some time now, if you’d like to spend the evening together,” he offered.

Barry paused at the suggestion and then smiled happily. “Okay. I’d like that,” he said. “Do you want a drink?”

Bruce’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “Sure, kid,” he said softly. “I’ll take a soda.”

The End