If I Can’t Trust You

Summary: The Protagonist has a conversation with Neil about trust
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the entire movie; AU; references to violence
Pairing: The Protagonist/Neil

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He watched as Neil injected Kat with the sedative, murmuring, “If you sleep more, you’ll heal faster.” He watched as she lost consciousness; made sure she still breathed. Then, he turned away; walked to the ambulance door and stared out of the window.

“You’re angry.”

Neil’s voice was soft, but the Protagonist thought he could still hear a note of censure in it. He didn’t turn round; didn’t look at the other man. “You lied to me.”

“And you lied to Sator. Are we really debating morals right now?”

He turned round, finally. Looked at Neil. Locked eyes with the other man. “I’m supposed to be able to trust you.”

Neil leaned forward, an earnest look coming over his face. “You can trust me.”

“You’ve been lying to me from day one.”

“Well. Not quite from day one.” Neil smiled, but that quickly faded when the Protagonist didn’t return it. He leaned back, adjusted the IV, then focused on the Protagonist once more. “What do you want me to do?”

“Tell me the truth,” he answered. “Tell me everything.”

“It won’t make any difference.”

“It’ll make a difference to me.”

Neil leaned back and studied him for a few moments before saying, regretfully, “I can’t. I will. I promise. If we’re still standing at the end of this. If we’re both still alive and you ask me again. I’ll tell you then.”

He shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”

“Okay.” Neil closed his eyes and nodded, almost to himself. He opened his eyes and stood up. His hands went to his waist and he undid his belt, pulling it through the loops with a quiet snick. He then doubled the leather in his hand and held it out.

The Protagonist looked at the belt and then at Neil’s face, into his eyes. “What are you asking me to do?”

For perhaps the first time since meeting him, Neil faltered. He looked down at the belt and then up into the Protagonist’s eyes. “This is what happens. Do something wrong and get punished.”

“Everyone?” he asked. “Or just you?”

Neil shrugged. “I’ve been told my behaviour improves after a tanning. It hurts, but I gather that’s the point. We won’t succeed in our mission if you can’t bring yourself to trust me.”

He slowly took the belt from Neil’s hand and looked at it, considering. Weighing his options.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in this position. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to discipline someone he’d been in charge of. His identity might no longer exist, but the memories of his past life were still there.

Neil wasn’t under his command; not in the same sense. Still. “Things will change between us if I do this. You have to know that.”

“They’ve already changed,” Neil replied. “This time, perhaps they will change for the better.”

He looked down at the dark brown leather belt. Ran his fingers over the material. Hefted the weight. When he looked up, it was to see that Neil had pushed his pants and underwear down and positioned himself bent almost double against the wall, feet slightly apart and hands braced for balance.

The Protagonist walked to Neil’s side and lifted the other man’s shirttails, tucking them out of the way for clearer access to the pale backside. He rested his hand on Neil’s lower back; rested the doubled-over belt against the fullest part of his bottom, taking aim.

The thwap of leather striking flesh echoed dully in the vehicle and Neil sucked in his breath sharply, but otherwise didn’t react.

The belt left behind a wide pink mark. The Protagonist brought the belt down a second and third time, watching as each pink mark formed, overlapping with the previous. He saw the way Neil’s fingers clenched on the wall. Heard the quiet groan when he let the belt land against the tops of the other man’s thighs.

He paused, looking at his handiwork. At the six vivid pink stripes that stood out visibly against Neil’s pale skin. Then, he pushed down against the other man’s back once more and began to bring the belt down for a second full circuit of strokes.

By the time that was finished, Neil’s entire bottom was pink; slightly darker in places where the belt had overlapped. Placing the belt on the floor, the Protagonist lifted his hand and smacked it down smartly at the crest of Neil’s bottom. And then he followed up that first smack with more. Each time his palm connected, he could feel the warmth radiating from the punished skin.

It didn’t take many smacks for Neil to begin shifting from side to side. The Protagonist followed his movements, making sure each solid smack landed fully on target; whether it was on his rapidly reddening bottom, or on his pink, sensitive thighs.

“I’m sorry.” The apology was uttered in a low, hoarse voice, heavy with tears. Neil’s body slumped forward, relaxing into the punishment. Now, all he did was shudder or whimper every time a burning smack was delivered to his bottom.

When the Protagonist paused, Neil’s whole bottom was a uniform red, from the crest down to mid-thigh. It was impossible to tell what had been caused by the belt and what had been given by hand.

The Protagonist let his hand rub gently over Neil’s back, listening as the tears died down to quiet sniffles. But it took him by surprise when Neil suddenly latched onto him, pressing a hard kiss to his lips.

Neil’s lips were soft and warm. He pressed for a few moments and then started to pull back.

The Protagonist pulled him back. Pulled him into a deeper, firmer kiss and felt Neil smile against his lips, before he kissed back with interest.

The End