A True Father

Gil and Malcolm7.jpg

Summary: Gil has a conversation with Bright about backup
Warning(s): Spanking; some references to injury; mentions of hallucinations; spoilers for the first series of Prodigal Son

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Malcolm opened his eyes as his loft lit up from dawn’s light. He hadn’t got much more than maybe three hours sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, it was to see her. The girl in the box. She haunted his sleep. Appeared when he was awake. Sometimes begging. Sometimes pleading. Always demanding that he find her. Find what happened to her.

How could he argue with or explain himself to a ghost?

Malcolm began to undo the restraints. At least this time, he hadn’t thrown himself out of the window. Of course, after that particular occasion, he’d made sure the restraints had been extra-reinforced.

When Malcolm rolled over, he couldn’t help but groan as his ribs protested. He’d been very lucky that none of his ribs had ended up broken. A fact that Gil had made certain to remind him of, along with an ominous warning of, ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow,’ after he’d been checked out at the hospital to Gil’s satisfaction.

Getting off his bed, Malcolm wondered if he should worry about the upcoming conversation he was going to be having. After all, Gil had already indicated that he wasn’t happy about Malcolm running off without backup. And hadn’t that made Malcolm feel like a child again, being made to repeat Gil’s directions after him?

But it wasn’t as if he’d intentionally gone without backup. He’d tried to explain that to Gil, but the other man hadn’t wanted to listen. Maybe today, he’d be more receptive to what Malcolm had to say.

Quickly dressing, Malcolm walked into the kitchen area and poured out a cup of coffee. He sipped it, looking around his small apartment with a sigh. “I hope Gil’s not going to forbid me from working the case,” he commented out loud. He was an adult, after all. A grown man. Really, he shouldn’t have to answer to Gil at all.

But the older man was his boss. And really, Gil was far more than that. Malcolm didn’t admit it out loud, but in his head, he thought of Gil as his father. Far more than he’d ever thought of Martin Whitley, after finally learning the truth.

The buzzer from the front door of his loft caught Malcolm’s attention and he set his coffee down, then walked over and pressed the button. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Gil,” the older man’s familiar voice said. “Let me in.”

Malcolm frowned, but pressed the button anyway. “It’s open.” He didn’t know why the older man had come directly to the loft. He wasn’t exactly hopeful it was about another case, though. Gil’s promise that they’d talk later still rang in his ears.

It didn’t take long before Malcolm heard Gil’s footsteps coming up and then the older man appeared at the top of the stairs, pinning him with a severe stare. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little bit sore, but I’m good for anything you need.” Malcolm smiled at the older man.

“What I need is for you rest, kid,” Gil responded. “I came here because I knew, if I didn’t, you’d make your way back to the precinct. Doctor’s orders or not. You never know when to take a break.”

“You know why I can’t take a break,” Malcolm replied. “I’ve got to be a part of this, Gil. I can’t be left out of the loop.” He dropped his voice, a pleading note creeping into it. “Come on. I need to be involved in this.”

“You can’t be involved in this case if you won’t follow the rules,” Gil said. “Just as I told you yesterday. You don’t go off chasing leads on your own.”

“Yeah. I got it, Gil.” Malcolm nodded rapidly.

Gil watched him for several long moments and then sighed. “I don’t think you do ‘get it’, Bright. This is far from the first time you’ve done something so dangerous, I’ve been worried that you have a death wish. This can’t happen again.” He stared into Bright’s eyes.

Uncomfortable with the close scrutiny, Malcolm took a slight step back and glanced at the ground, feeling like a scolded child. “You want me to wait for backup next time. I understand.”

“I think I need to be sure of that.” Gil advanced on Malcolm, stepping right into his personal space, and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I need to be certain that you’ll remember the next time you’re tempted to take off without waiting for backup.” His hand slid down Malcolm’s shoulder, gripping his wrist firmly. “I’m going to give you something to think about the next time you’re tempted to break the rules.”

“I’m supposed to just be a consultant,” Malcolm muttered, though he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Gil’s grip. He didn’t know what the older man planned, but he trusted Gil with his life. With everything.

“We both know you’re far more than ‘just a consultant’, Bright.” Keeping his grip on Malcolm firm and tight, Gil led him over to the couch. “You’ve never been ‘just anything’ to me. And I’m going to prove that to you right now.” He took a seat and tugged Malcolm round to stand in front of him before letting go of his wrist and unsnapping the button on his pants before unzipping them.

“Gil….” Malcolm moved his hands to block the older man’s movements. “Please don’t,” he whispered. It had been a long time since he’d last been in this position with the older man, but he remembered it all too well. Knew that protesting didn’t tend to change Gil’s mind once the other man had decided a spanking was in order, but that didn’t stop him from trying anyway.

Call for backup, Bright. Those are easy words to remember.” Gil finished undoing his pants and then proceeded to tug them down, joining the pants with his underwear. He then tugged Malcolm forward, pulling him across his lap.

Malcolm landed in place with a sharp exhalation of breath and found himself pinned in place with Gil’s arm wrapped around his waist. His whole body tensed up as Gil’s hand rubbed down his back and then he tensed up as he felt the hand lifted.

The first smack was delivered hard to the crest of his right buttock and Malcolm jumped, hissing out his breath in a sharp gasp. When the second smack landed in the same spot on his opposite buttock, he immediately threw his hand back. “Gil, don’t,” he gasped out.

Instead of responding with words, Gil merely moved Malcolm’s hand out of the way, holding it against his back, and then resumed the hard spanking, covering every inch of Malcolm’s backside down to mid-thigh and then starting over from the top again.

It might have been a long time since he was last in this position, but Gil’s hand was just as hard as the last time Malcolm had been spanked. It didn’t take long before the stinging became a deeper ache and then his bottom began to throb.

“I’m sorry, Gil!” Malcolm burst out, trying in vain to free his hand from the older man’s grasp. Finally, he threw his other hand back, covering his bottom to shield it from the smacks.

Instead, Gil began to swat Malcolm’s thighs and he yelped, moving his hand down to protect the more sensitive skin, only for the spanking to resume across his bottom. Malcolm tried in vain to keep up with the spanking hand, but no matter where he moved his hand, he was always just a fraction too late to shield himself.

By the time Gil paused the spanking, Malcolm’s eyes were watering almost too badly for him to see out of. He drew in a deep, sobbing breath, whimpering at the intense sting that covered his whole bottom.

“What are you going to do next time, Bright?” Gil asked sternly. “The next time you go chasing after a lead, what are you going to do?”

“Call for backup!” Malcolm sobbed out the words before begging, “Please no more, Gil. I’ve had enough.”

“I want to make sure you remember for next time.” Gil pinned Malcolm’s other hand, too, and began to swat his sit spots and the tops of his thighs.

Malcolm began to sob harder, his whole body going limp over Gil’s lap. His bottom and thighs felt like an inferno and all fight had gone out of him. He couldn’t even squirm.

Eventually, he became aware of the fact that Gil had stopped spanking and was now rubbing low down on his back. His sobs gradually died down to sniffles and hiccups and he wiped at his streaming eyes, before whispering, in a hoarse voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Just do what I expect next time, Bright. That’s all I ask.” Gil rubbed his back for a bit longer and then pulled his underwear and pants back into place before helping Malcolm to stand up. He stood as well and wrapped his arms around Malcolm in a tight hug.

Gulping back his tears, Malcolm wrapped his arms around Gil in a hug that was just as tight in return. He held onto his father figure, sniffling quietly. “I’ll call for backup next time,” he promised, reaching back and rubbing his bottom.

“Good. I’m very glad to hear that.” Gil hugged him a bit closer and a bit tighter and for a bit longer, before slowly releasing him. “I’ll drive you into the precinct, but first, I want you to eat something.” He walked over to the fridge and opened it.

Malcolm thought about telling Gil he wasn’t hungry. That he didn’t need to eat. But his backside twinged when he thought about that protest and…well, to be honest, it had been a long time since Gil had taken care of him. It felt good to fall back into those old habits, even though it wasn’t something that could happen all the time.

The End