Bad Day
By Xanthe
Carson Beckett let himself into Rodney's
room that evening after the events of the
day he was pretty sure that Rodney wouldn't
come to his room. While Rodney would often
come to spend the night with Carson if he
was feeling excited, irritated, or just
plain horny, when he was really down he'd
hide away for a few days. Somehow, after the
events of the day, Carson doubted that
Rodney would be feeling very upbeat this
evening and he really didn't want his lover
to be alone tonight.
Carson lit some of the candles he'd brought
with him to make the room look more cosy and
welcoming - Rodney wasn't exactly a candle
kind of person so he didn't possess any
himself - then he settled down on the bed
with a medical journal and waited for Rodney
to show up. It was already late, so Carson
knew his lover wouldn't be long, and sure
enough the door slid open half an hour later
and Rodney stood in the doorway, blinking in
the candlelight, looking a little confused.
"Carson?" he muttered, walking into the
room. Carson's tender heart skipped a beat;
he'd never seen his lover looking so
incredibly dejected. Rodney's shoulders were
set into a deep slump and his mouth was
pinched into a thin line of despondency.
"Hey
I thought you could use the company,"
Carson said, tossing the journal aside and
getting up from the bed.
"Hmmm. Did I apologise to you?" Rodney
asked, absently placing his laptop on the
table. "I thought I'd covered everyone but I
don't think I apologised to you."
"You didn't do anything to upset me. You
don't have to apologise to me," Carson said,
stepping forward.
"Really? That's a relief. I think I
apologised to everyone else. Elizabeth of
course, Radek that was an extremely
difficult verging on embarrassing
experience, Colonel Caldwell although I
did that by email because that man scares
the hell out of me, and of course Colonel
Sheppard." His shoulders hunched even more
at that last name.
"Did he give you a tough time?" Carson asked
gently.
"Hmm?" Rodney looked up. "Sheppard? As a
matter of fact, no. Well
at least...no more
than I deserved. He was kinder to me than
I'd have been to myself in the
circumstances. He doesn't trust me any more
but that's to be expected."
"Oh Rodney." Carson put his hands on
Rodney's shoulders and gazed at his lover
sympathetically. "You made a mistake. It
could have happened to anyone."
"Not really, no," Rodney said, not sparing
himself from the brutal honesty he was often
so quick to hand out to everyone else. "It
happened to me because I let my ego blind
me, Carson. I went out of my way to convince
everyone I could do this and it blew up in
my face quite literally. I over-reached
myself and I paid the price."
"You honestly thought you could make the
weapon work," Carson told him firmly, still
keeping his hands on Rodney's shoulders.
"Did I? Or was I just blinded by the thought
of how much praise and credit I'd get for it
if I succeeded?" Rodney asked bitterly.
Carson gazed at his lover sadly. Rodney was
right as he so often was. He had made a
huge error of judgement and he had been
blinded by his own ego but all the same,
that didn't stop Carson feeling desperately
sorry for him right now.
"C'mere, love." He pulled Rodney into a warm
hug, and Rodney came, stiffly, reluctantly,
unable to accept any kind of sympathy right
now while he was so busy kicking himself for
his own stupidity. Carson sighed he could
see this wasn't going to be easy. Rodney
didn't relax much in his arms so eventually
he let him go. Rodney sat down at the table
and undid his boots and kicked them off.
"Elizabeth was furious," he said. "I tried
to explain myself but really she was
right. I deserved everything she said. I
should have listened to her in the first
place. She knows what I can be like."
"Aye, well, sometimes you just let your
intellectual enthusiasm run away with you,"
Carson said, sitting down opposite him and
resting his elbows on his knees, leaning
forward, trying to connect with his lover.
"Yeah. Well, I should only let myself do
that in less explosive situations," Rodney
said bitterly. "Idiot." He sat there for a
moment, looking tired and lost. Carson
wished there was something he could say or
do to make it better but he knew Rodney too
well. The other man wouldn't accept a
platitude or anything that was less than the
brutal truth, and Carson didn't want to add
to the list of people who'd already given
Rodney that brutal truth after the events of
the day. "As for Radek he was the
opposite; far too nice to me in the
circumstances. He tried to warn me but I
didn't listen. And you know
" Rodney
scrunched up his face in a pained
expression. "It does really kind of hurt
that he was right and I was wrong. I
mean
he's a good scientist and has a fine
mind but I'm in another league entirely.
He's just not as good as me, damnit! So to
have to apologise to him was
well, hard."
Carson gave a little smile Rodney's
self-assessments, whether positive or
negative, were always entirely honest, but
he doubted whether his lover realised how
that came across sometimes.
"You still did it though," Carson said,
patting his lover's knee. "I'm proud of you.
You might get things wrong but you always
apologise when you do."
"I don't like getting things wrong," Rodney
snapped.
"You're only human everyone gets things
wrong occasionally," Carson told him firmly.
"But not this. This was my field
this was
something I should have got right," Rodney
sighed, looking gloomily at his feet.
"Did you eat?" Carson asked, trying to
change the subject.
"Not in the mood." Rodney shook his head.
Carson didn't like the sound of that
Rodney was never not in the mood to eat.
"Why don't you take a shower and I'll fix
something then we can go to bed," he
suggested. "I'll make a nice pot of tea."
"Carson I don't want to eat and I don't want
you feeling sorry for me or fussing over me
or giving me bloody tea," Rodney snapped.
"What is it with you Brits and your endless
need for tea in times of crisis? You should
just go away and leave me alone. I'll be
fine."
"No." Carson got up, feeling his shoulder
muscles tighten. He had a feeling he knew
where this was going to end up, and if it
was necessary then he was quite prepared to
go there. "No, I won't leave you alone,
Rodney, because we all know what'll happen
if I do."
Rodney glared at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you'll stay up all night,
working on your equations, going over and
over where you got it wrong isn't that why
you brought your laptop back this evening?"
Rodney looked as if he was going to argue
about that and then sighed, and wrapped his
arms around his body and sat there, hunched
and sullen.
"Then it'll go on for days. You'll drink too
much coffee, stay up every night going over
and over what went wrong and how it was all
your fault, snap at everyone in sight,
including me, and mope around here when
you're off duty. You'll be miserable and
you'll make everyone around you miserable."
"Thank you for the very accurate character
assessment," Rodney snapped. "I'm sorry if
you think I make everyone miserable but
"
"I'm more worried about the fact that you'll
be miserable," Carson told him softly,
resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Rodney you need to move on from this, not
dwell on it. Aye, you have to win back
people's trust, particularly Colonel
Sheppard's, and that won't be easy, but
sitting here all night giving yourself a
hard time about it won't do anything to help
you win back that trust, will it?"
"I know what you're trying to do, Carson,
with the candles and the tea and sympathy
but it won't work," Rodney told him in a
hard voice. "So please just go away and
leave me alone."
"No," Carson made sure his voice was firm.
He knew Rodney was used to getting his own
way in their relationship, but that was
because Carson was perfectly happy to allow
him to do just that most of the time. He
loved Rodney's enthusiasm, his babbling
conversations and the fact that every single
emotion that Rodney ever experienced showed
in those blue eyes of his, rendering him
startlingly vulnerable even when he was at
his most obnoxious. Carson often felt like
the adult in the relationship, standing by
and allowing his genius lover to show off
and generally be excitable and endearing,
and irritating and irascible by turns.
However, there was another truth to their
relationship, and it was one that neither of
them discussed, but the bottom line was that
no matter how brilliant Rodney was, or how
snappy he could be, or how much he pushed
Carson around during their workings lives
at the end of the day, Carson was in charge.
He was the stable one and beneath that
gentle exterior he had a quiet authority
that he rarely ever wielded - but when he
did, that was that, and even Rodney was
brought into line.
Rodney's head shot up at Carson's tone of
voice and he gazed at him. "What are you
saying?" he asked, and Carson didn't miss
the slight hitch in his voice, or the eager
and yet anxious expression that had suddenly
crept into his eyes. Now he was sure he knew
what to do.
"I'm saying that either you snap out of this
and go and take a shower and sit down for a
meal with me and try and move on, or I'll
take care of it the other way we take care
of things, and if I do that, I'll do it
properly or there's no point doing it at
all," Carson told him in his best
no-nonsense doctor's voice. "It's your
choice, Rodney. You can either let this drag
on for days while you descend into a little
pit of misery, or we can spend an hour or so
taking care of this now. It'll be quicker,
and it'll probably hurt less in the long
run."
"But not in the short," Rodney said
mirthlessly.
"I told you it's your choice, Rodney,"
Carson said firmly. "I'll be in my quarters.
You decide." He looked down on Rodney's glum
face and sighed. He wrapped his arms around
Rodney's hunched shoulders and hugged his
stiff, unresponsive body for a second or
two. "I love you, Rodney," he whispered.
When he got no response he rose to go, but
Rodney reached out a hand and clutched his
arm, pulling him back.
"You'd do it properly?" he asked, in a soft,
desperate tone. "You wouldn't let me off
lightly because you're feeling sorry for
me?"
"No," Carson told him firmly, although he
felt his own stomach do a little flip of
nervousness in the hope he'd get it right.
He'd learned from experience that if it was
going to happen at all, then it had to be
done properly. Rodney could always see
through any attempt at a lie and that made
the whole thing pointless. They'd had
arguments about it before, until Carson had
finally figured out the way his complicated
lover's mind worked. Rodney might wheedle
and whine for mercy, in fact he frequently
did, but if you gave him just that he was
likely to bite your head off.
"And you're sure?" Rodney asked, biting his
lip. Despite everything he might say, Rodney
was a soft-hearted man, and he would hate it
if he felt Carson was doing something
against his will.
"Aye. I'm sure." Carson stood up straight
and gazed down at his lover with every ounce
of his resolve. "Like I said your choice
but you've got half an hour to make it
because after that I'm going to bed."
And with that he turned on his heel and
left. He would have much preferred to have
stayed, to have wrapped Rodney up in his
love and kissed him better, but that was
another thing he'd learned from experience
Rodney couldn't accept any kind of comfort
while he was in this kind of mood and still
berating himself so thoroughly.
Carson returned to his quarters and pulled
out the box under his bed. It was Rodney's
box and it contained Rodney's things, but
Carson didn't quibble about his lover's need
for them. It was something he could do for
Rodney and sometimes it was the one thing
Rodney needed, and often, if Carson was
honest, it was a pleasure for him too.
Rodney was, after all, a man who could
effortlessly hurl a professional insult in
his direction with malicious ease. He could
take up a whole day of Carson's time with
trivial and often non-existent medical
complaints just because he wanted attention,
and he could pout for Atlantis when denied
something he wanted. In those circumstances,
Carson had come to pretty much enjoy using
the inhabitants of this box.
Carson opened the box and laid the contents
out on the table. He had no idea where
Rodney had got them from but he presumed
that at least some of them had been personal
items he'd brought with him from Earth
although more had shown up since then and
Carson wasn't entirely sure where they'd
come from. They were all unfussy and
straightforward implements none of them
had any frills or unnecessary accoutrements.
Rodney meant them to do business, not be
used as instruments of erotic pleasure, and
although at first Carson had found that hard
to understand, he'd come to appreciate just
what these implements could do for his lover
when wielded correctly, and with that came a
certain degree of respect for them.
In time their relationship had moved on from
Rodney requesting when they be used to
Carson taking control of that. It suited
them both better that way, even if Rodney
did sometimes argue with him when he felt
they weren't necessary and Carson thought
they were or vice versa. Carson trusted
himself to be a better judge of this than
Rodney though, and time had proven that to
be the case. Rodney was much happier now
than he'd ever been, and for the most part
led a more settled, contented life. It
suited him that Carson was his bottom line
that when the chips were down it was Carson
who was there for him and who kept him in
check, and Rodney knew that no matter how
much he wheedled or commanded, when push
came to shove Carson was in charge and
Rodney wasn't. And that was that.
Carson examined the implements one by one,
trying to judge which would work best in
their current situation. He always did this
it helped to get him into the right frame
of mind to take care of Rodney's needs, and
ever since he'd started to actively enjoy
this side of their relationship, Carson had
come to appreciate how important it was that
he was in the right mindset before starting.
For that reason, he always tried to get a
few minutes alone before turning his
attention to Rodney even if that meant
getting his lover to face the wall for a few
minutes which was something that Rodney
hated and fumed about with a vehemence that
made Carson laugh.
Carson picked up the tawse first. He always
did he was most naturally drawn to this
implement and with good reason. It was a
thick strip of hard leather, cut halfway
down the middle to provide two "tails".
Carson viewed it with a healthy respect
because it was the only implement in the box
of which he had personal experience. It
wasn't an experience he'd ever forget
either. The tawse had been the main
implement of discipline used at his school,
years' ago. Carson had always been far too
well-behaved to ever be on the receiving end
of it, unlike some of the other boys who
were constantly in trouble, but there had
been just one occasion when he had been
tawsed, and just touching the damn thing
could still make him shiver, even after all
these years.
He'd been 13 years old and was pretty much
the brightest boy not only in his class but
in the entire school. The headmaster, Mr
Sullivan, was a good, kind man, and very
proud of Carson. Having lost his own father
a couple of years' previously, Carson had
started to rely on Mr Sullivan as a role
model and someone to talk to. Mr Sullivan
had encouraged him and helped him with extra
tuition in order to fulfil his considerable
promise and Carson has flourished as a
result. He adored the headmaster and what
had happened still made him wince in
distress. His best friend, Danny, had come
to school one day in a panic because he'd
forgotten to do some homework. It wasn't the
first time this had happened and Danny knew
he'd be in serious trouble. Soft-hearted
Carson, who was just becoming painfully
aware of his homosexuality and was nursing a
serious crush on his best friend, had given
in and allowed Danny to copy his homework.
Danny hadn't changed it enough if at all
and the boys were soon found out. Carson had
immediately cracked under pressure and
admitted to the crime and that was how he'd
come to find himself in front of the
headmaster's desk, staring at his own feet
as a way of avoiding looking into Mr
Sullivan's disappointed brown eyes. It had
been one of the most traumatic experiences
of Carson's entire life. He wasn't used to
being in trouble and he hated that he'd
upset one of the people he respected most
and who had shown him such kindness. He
wished the floor could open him up and
swallow him and his shame. Mr Sullivan
hadn't spared the lecture he was extremely
disappointed with Carson and he let him know
it. After the lecture he'd called Carson
forward and told him to bend over his desk.
Then he'd opened his desk drawer and removed
the tawse. Carson remembered swallowing hard
on a completely dry mouth, feeling sure he
would faint. He'd never been in serious
trouble before it just wasn't in his
nature - and he was petrified. Mr Sullivan
had delivered six sharp swats to his
backside in swift succession but Carson
barely remembered the final five because
he'd been so busy trying to get over the
first one, which stung like crazy.
Afterwards his head was spinning as he
pushed himself away from the desk,
red-faced, and mumbled an apology. Mr
Sullivan had accepted the apology and pulled
Carson's face up to look at him.
"You're a good boy, Carson. I know you won't
do anything like this again," he'd said, and
Carson could still remember the feeling of
total relief that had swept through him.
"Now, you've been punished and we won't
mention it again. I'll see you tonight for
extra biology tuition as usual."
Carson remembered walking away from the
headmaster's office feeling light-headed
with joy that he'd been forgiven and that he
wasn't in trouble any more, despite the pain
his rump or maybe, partly, because of it.
It was that whole experience which made him
understand what Rodney got from the
implements in this box otherwise he might
have had a harder time appreciating exactly
why Rodney needed them. Carson fingered the
tawse, remembering that day again. Mr
Sullivan had been a good, kind man, and
Carson had never once resented him for
punishing him that day. Carson had told
Rodney the entire story and it was soon
after that that the tawse had made an
appearance in the box. Carson wasn't
entirely sure what Rodney meant by that, and
they never talked about it, but oddly,
Carson found it rather touching.
Carson pulled out a smooth, hard paddle, and
whacked it experimentally against his palm,
enjoying the thud. This made a nice, loud
noise and he liked using it for that reason,
but the tawse held more emotional resonance
for him. He discarded the other implements,
including a fearsome looking cane which he
doubted he'd ever use on Rodney, and
returned them to the box, but kept those two
out. They felt more suitable and he'd decide
which one to use when Rodney arrived. Carson
had no doubt that Rodney *would* arrive.
He'd be reluctant for someone who kept a
box full of these implements, Rodney could
be curiously diffident when it came to them
actually being used on him - and sometimes
they had a battle of wills over it, which
Carson always won and which he knew Rodney
needed him to win. Carson just assumed it
was part of the whole process and if it
worked for Rodney then that was fine by him
he could dig in and be as stern as Rodney
needed him to be. He doubted he'd have too
much trouble with him today though even
Rodney knew he'd fucked up, big time, today.
Carson glanced around the room and made a
few adjustments to it to get it ready. He
took away the chair from the side of the
table closest to the door, and he displayed
the implements on the table, so Rodney would
see them when he arrived it was small
touches like that which Carson had learned
helped them both to get into the right head
space. Finally, he sat down and thought
about what he was trying to achieve and how
he might go about it.
Carson didn't have a list of "punishable
offences" in his head. He didn't personally
think Rodney needed to be punished for
anything any more than any of the rest of
the base did but as this part of their life
was very real and had taken on increasing
importance to them both he had tried to
figure out what Rodney might feel he'd need
to be punished for. As he'd become more
confident in his role as Rodney's top, he'd
also devised a list of his own of things
that Rodney might not feel he needed to be
punished for but Carson thought showed he
wasn't just an expedient right arm, there to
dish out on Rodney's command. His insistence
on meting out minor spankings for when
Rodney had been completely obnoxious or
insulting had actually worked out very well
for both of them. Carson was a firm believer
in politeness and Rodney had tempered some
of his more outrageous outbursts as a result
of the spankings he'd received. More than
that though, it helped reinforce, in
Rodney's mind, that Carson wasn't a pushover
and that Rodney wasn't in control and it
was that which helped them both when it came
to issues that Rodney really did have a
problem with. Such as today
Carson tried to
focus on what exactly Rodney might be
feeling. He had been egotistical to the
point of lunacy and had nearly got himself
and Colonel Sheppard blown up in the process
and it was *that* more than anything else
that Carson wanted to focus on. He suspected
Rodney himself would want more focus on how
his actions had been stupid and impacted on
the others in the base and the consequent
loss of their respect for him, but as far as
Carson could see they'd all made their own
decisions, even if they had been blinded by
Rodney's zeal. Besides, Carson wasn't
concerned with the others on this occasion
this was about Rodney, and Carson remembered
how distraught he'd felt when he was 13
years' old and had been caught cheating,
even for the most well-meaning of reasons.
Rodney had to be feeling something similar
he needed to know he had been held to
account and thoroughly punished for his poor
judgement and Carson knew he could do that
for him, however painful it would be.
There was a timid knock on the door and
Carson waited for a second or two before
calling for Rodney to come in. Rodney
finally entered, looking bashful, his eyes
lowered. Carson remained seated where he
was, watching Rodney intently as his lover
came to stand in front of the table. Carson
could remember many authority figures,
including his own father, and Mr Sullivan,
and the brilliant but somewhat ruthless
surgeon who had coaxed the first hint of
brilliance from him several years previously
and he had used all of them in constructing
his top persona. He was himself a highly
respected man, with many staff who looked up
to him, and he was used to managing people
with a combination of respect and firmness.
This wasn't very much different, even if it
wasn't quite his usual style.
Carson gazed at Rodney for a long while.
Rodney stood there, looking a little
uncertain, and that was exactly how Carson
wanted him to feel. After a few moments
Rodney wilted, and his eyes flickered to the
implements on the table in front of Carson,
then flickered back to Carson.
Finally it was all too much for Rodney.
"Look, I know I'm in trouble!" he blurted.
"Can we just get the lecture over with and
get on with it, Carson?"
"Did I give you permission to speak?" Carson
asked quietly.
"No but
" Rodney began and Carson shot him a
look that dried the words right out of his
mouth. Carson wished he could replicate that
effect in their everyday lives.
"You are in trouble," Carson told him,
getting up. "You're in a whole world of
trouble, lad." Rodney took a deep breath and
squared his shoulders.
"Yes, sir," he muttered. Carson suppressed
the smile that always came to his lips when
Rodney called him 'sir'. It seemed to be
something that slipped out naturally when
Rodney was in this position and Carson
actually found it rather endearing. It also
showed that Rodney accepted he should be
punished and was ready for that.
Carson undid his shirt sleeves and then
began rolling them up, very, very slowly,
one by one. Rodney watched, transfixed. This
was another weapon Carson had in his armoury
he knew that just this simple act could
take Rodney down as quickly as any lecture.
Carson took his time, making sure his
movements were firm and controlled with just
a hint of annoyance about them and Rodney
bit on his lip as his eyes followed every
movement. Finally Carson finished and then
he turned back to his lover.
"In a minute I'm going to punish you," he
said, and Rodney swallowed hard and nodded.
"I'm going to punish you severely," Carson
added, and Rodney's head jerked up although
he must have been expecting that. Carson
perched on the side of the table in front of
his lover and gazed at him sternly. "You've
had a bad day, Rodney," he observed.
"Yeah. You could say that." Rodney gave a
little laugh which faded from his face when
Carson's mouth remained set in a resolutely
firm line.
"I'm glad you find it funny. I, on the other
hand, do not," Carson rapped out. "Your
arrogance almost cost you your life, and
that's not acceptable to me, Rodney."
"What?" Rodney frowned, confused. "I was an
idiot, yes, but it wasn't just my life that
was in danger."
"I know. You also wheedled Colonel Sheppard
into your stupidity and Colonel Caldwell too
and they both risked their lives to a
greater or lesser extent as a result. You
were also rude to Radek and you know how I
feel about your rudeness."
"Yes sir," Rodney muttered. "Although really
that was just the heat of
"
"Be quiet, Rodney!" Carson interrupted, in a
furious tone. "I don't think you realise
just how much trouble you're in, lad."
Rodney gazed at him, startled, a panicked
look in his eyes, and then he nodded. "Yes
sir, sorry sir," he whispered.
"So I'm going to punish you," Carson said,
turning back to his implements. Now he knew
how he would use them; he'd use the paddle
to deal with the issues that were bothering
Rodney most, because it made a loud noise
and all Rodney's senses would tell him how
vigorously he was being punished. Then he'd
use the tawse for those issues that were
more of a concern to him personally the
way Rodney had treated Radek, and the fact
he'd put his own life so stupidly in danger.
"Yes sir," Rodney said again, in a subdued
tone.
"In the circumstances I think you deserve a
long, hard punishment so I'm going to use
both the paddle and the tawse," Carson told
him. Rodney's head jerked up again this
was unusual, but Carson hoped that by doing
it this way he'd deal with how big this
issue was for Rodney. They'd never had to
deal with something of this magnitude
before, and Carson knew that Rodney would
require there to be some special degree of
chastisement before he'd accept that he'd
been punished and could move on.
"Yes, sir." Rodney's words were barely
audible.
Carson circled around him, put a hand on his
shoulder and squeezed firmly. "Pants down
please and bend over the table," he ordered.
Rodney trembled slightly under his touch and
Carson kept his hand there, steadying him.
Then Rodney took a deep breath, nodded, and
undid his pants. He slid them down to his
ankles, along with his boxers and kicked
them off, and then Carson pushed him
forwards until he was stretched over the
desk. Rodney had a very nice, round, fleshy
bottom and although Carson thought that
generally speaking he'd prefer to be making
love to it rather than spanking it, he had
succumbed, during the course of their
relationship, to the charm of seeing it
squirm and wriggle and redden under his
stern ministrations.
Carson picked up the paddle first he'd
save the tawse for later, when he would take
Rodney over his knee and make the spanking
more intimate. For now, he knew Rodney
needed a more formal spanking before he'd
accept anything else.
First do no harm, Carson sighed, offering up
a little prayer of apology to Hippocrates.
The truth was that in the course of his job
he'd often had to inflict pain in order to
encourage healing, and he told himself that
this was no different; it felt pretty much
the same.
Carson placed the paddle against Rodney's
buttocks, watching them quiver slightly, and
then pulled it back and delivered a firm,
hard slap to Rodney's flesh. The paddle gave
a pleasing crack as it impacted on bare
flesh, and Rodney jumped slightly. Carson
put a hand on his back to still him and then
set about in earnest.
"What you did today was stupid, reckless and
arrogant," Carson said, listing the faults
that he knew were bothering Rodney most.
"Yes, sir," Rodney yelped as the paddle
descended again. Carson didn't spare him
he'd promised he wouldn't and he knew it
wouldn't do any good anyway. Rodney was
feeling bad right now and he needed the
spanking to match the severity of those
emotions or it wouldn't do what they needed
it to do. Carson was surprised how good he'd
got at judging this. He was acutely
observant, aware of what Rodney's body
language was telling him, and he had become
very skilled with using the various
implements in Rodney's box. Every stroke hit
home on the fleshy area of Rodney's bottom,
leaving broad red marks in their wake that
would probably have faded straight away if
they hadn't immediately been replaced with a
new one. Carson absolutely refused to do
anything that would cause bruising or
bleeding but he did want Rodney to be sore
for a few days and remember this spanking,
in case he was tempted to turn back to
berating himself endlessly. He wielded the
paddle like the expert he'd become, covering
every inch of Rodney's bottom, and not
stopping even when Rodney's breathing became
harsh and he started grunting as every spank
hit home. Finally, when Carson could feel
Rodney start to shake under the hand he had
on his back, Carson stopped. Rodney looked
up, as if startled.
"I'm not done yet," Carson told him grimly,
and Rodney nodded, accepting that. "That was
for screwing up and for misleading Colonel
Sheppard," Carson said. "Now come here." He
put the paddle back on the table and picked
up the tawse. Then he took hold of Rodney's
arm and led him over to the bed. "Over my
knee," he ordered, pulling Rodney down.
Rodney was used to this position and quickly
got into place. Carson paused for a moment
and examined his lover's bottom. It was red
and looked pretty sore, but Carson knew he
could take more. Carson caressed it for a
few seconds, feeling the heat, judging what
else was required, and then he picked up the
tawse. "This is for me for making me worry
about you, for nearly getting killed and for
the way you treated Radek," Carson told me.
"You keep going on about Radek," Rodney
muttered resentfully, raising his head, and
Carson judged by his tone that this was
something he didn't feel he needed to be
punished for.
"He was right, you were wrong, but you
accused him of professional jealousy in
front of several people," Carson told him
sternly. "I think you can take a few for
that." Rodney sighed, and put his head down,
taking hold of Carson's knees.
"Yes, sir," he sighed, his body language
signalling that he accepted that Carson was
going to have the last word on this one.
Carson put one arm around Rodney's body and
brought the tawse down firmly on his
backside. Rodney growled and bucked slightly
in his grasp and Carson guessed that had to
really hurt after the spanking he'd just
received. He felt the usual empathy he
always felt for Rodney when he used the
tawse on him because he knew how this
implement felt, and that somehow always
brought him closer to Rodney and made the
experience more intimate for them both.
Carson didn't let up he knew that this
part of the punishment was important if he
was going to do it properly. He smacked the
tawse down several times, keeping up a brisk
pace, and Rodney clung to him, his body
wracked with tension. Carson wanted to break
that tension and he wasn't going to stop
until he did. He ratchetted the pace up a
notch or two, his arm moving at a blistering
pace, until Rodney started to make little
sobbing sounds in the back of his throat,
then Carson dialled it down, until finally
he stopped altogether. Rodney wasn't crying
but he was sort of keening and it was now,
finally, that Carson got to do what he had
wanted to do all evening. He pushed Rodney
off his lap, pulled him onto the bed, lay
down beside him and held him tight. Rodney
wrapped his arms around Carson and buried
his face in Carson's neck and held on tight,
finally accepting the comfort that Carson
had tried to give him an hour or so
previously. Rodney's breathing was still
coming in hitching gasps and Carson stroked
him, allowing his hands to linger on
Rodney's hot flesh before moving up to
gently caress his back.
"I love you," Carson whispered over and over
again into Rodney's ear as his lover lay
there, nuzzling at his neck, holding onto
him for dear life. Rodney was often like
this after a spanking craving total
closeness with Carson, clinging to him, and
Carson loved being able to get close to
Rodney and take care of him when he was at
his most vulnerable. Usually Rodney was an
excitable blur of action, talking,
gesticulating, or even making love with an
intensity that could be frightening, but
right here, right now, he was just a weary,
contrite man who needed to be held, and
Carson could do that for him.
"I'm sorry," Rodney whispered as Carson
hugged him close.
"I know, love. It's okay now though," Carson
told him, cuddling him for all he was worth.
Rodney relaxed into his embrace and Carson
kissed the side of his face, several times.
Finally Rodney's breathing calmed and he
looked up. His blue eyes were bright and
glassy but he hadn't cried he rarely ever
did when Carson spanked him. He looked tired
but much more relaxed than he'd been all
evening.
"I really am sorry, Carson," he said softly.
"I didn't think about how worried you must
have been when the weapon went critical."
"I was listening to the whole thing," Carson
told him with a squeeze. "You and Colonel
Sheppard were lucky to get out alive."
"Yeah." Rodney made a face. "Idiot," he said
again, but this time the reproach lacked the
bitter self-loathing his tone had held
earlier.
"Aye, but you're my idiot," Carson grinned,
kissing him on the lips. Rodney responded
hungrily, his mouth pressing against
Carson's and they kissed for a long time, a
gentle, sweet, needy kiss of connection and
love.
"Will you eat something now?" Carson asked
when he released him.
"God yes I'm starving," Rodney said.
"Get undressed and put my bathrobe on. I'll
get something," Carson told him. He bustled
around and made a couple of sandwiches and
pot of tea for the pair of them and turned
back to find Rodney standing right behind
him, in Carson's bathrobe; his lover never
could bear to be out of touching distance
from him after a spanking.
"Tea?" Rodney raised an eyebrow at Carson as
he poured two cups.
"I dont care what you say, the reason why
we Brits drink tea in times of crisis is
because it *works*," Carson told him.
"Hmm. I prefer coffee," Rodney muttered.
"I'm not giving you coffee on an empty
stomach just before you go to bed. You'll be
up all night," Carson said reprovingly. He
sat down and Rodney hovered next to him for
a moment.
"I really can't sit down right now, Carson,"
Rodney told him with a grimace. "I'll sort
of perch." He knelt down beside Carson and
rested against Carson's legs, like a cat.
Carson reached out and gently tangled his
hand in Rodney's hair. He loved doing this
and it was rare that Rodney was still enough
to allow it. Rodney gobbled down his
sandwich in record speed and then stole half
of Carson's sandwich as well. Carson smiled
to himself clearly his lover was feeling
much better.
"Can I stay the night?" Rodney asked,
through mouthfuls of sandwich.
"There's no question of you going back to
your room," Carson told him firmly. Rodney
grinned up at him, still munching.
"Good. Can we
you know
" he asked, glancing
at the bed.
"If you're up for it," Carson replied,
smiling down on him, still stroking his
hair.
"I'm never not up for it, Carson," Rodney
said reprovingly, finishing his sandwich and
swilling it down with tea. He swallowed that
down in three gulps and then got to his
feet, grimacing. "Hell, Carson, I must be
black and blue all over," he complained,
putting a tentative hand on his bottom.
"You're not black and blue but you are as
red as a beacon," Carson said with a grin as
Rodney pulled him out of the chair and
pushed him eagerly over to the bed. This was
*his* Rodney, not the bitter, despondent man
he'd been talking to earlier.
"The paddle *and* the tawse," Rodney said,
shaking his head. "You're just plain mean,
Carson Beckett."
"Aye, and you're a handful, Rodney McKay,"
Carson retorted, as Rodney began unbuttoning
and unzipping his clothes with those nimble
fingers of his.
"Am I?" Rodney paused for a moment to
consider that and then grinned, before
continuing with his task, humming happily to
himself as he went. He swiftly divested
Carson of his clothes, and then slipped his
bathrobe off and pulled the naked Carson
tight against his bare flesh, as if he
wanted them to be as close as physically
possible. "I don't know what I'd do without
you," he whispered into Carson's neck, in a
tight, emotional voice. "You know just how
to handle me."
"Aye, Rodney, I do," Carson replied, his
hands coming to rest on Rodney's exceedingly
warm bottom. He caressed it softly, despite
Rodney's little whimpers perhaps it was
mean of him to get some malicious enjoyment
out of that but Rodney seemed to find it
arousing judging by the hardness of his
erection as it dug into Carson's thigh.
"Who's on top?" Carson asked, as Rodney
reached out a hand to swipe the lube from
the nightstand.
"You've been toppy all night so it's
probably my turn," Rodney said.
"Aye, but you have this cute red arse,"
Carson replied, fingering Rodney's bottom.
"I think my cute red ass has had enough for
one night," Rodney replied. "And I want to
be close to you, to be *in* you."
"Och, that sounds very appealing," Carson
sighed happily as Rodney pushed him back
onto the bed. Rodney straddled him, kissing
him thoroughly all over. Rodney's blue eyes
were as intent as ever and for a moment
Carson wondered how the hell it was possible
that that weapon hadn't capitulated under
the force of Rodney's will the way virtually
everyone and everything on this base had,
and then he felt a jolt of the same
disappointment he knew Rodney must have
felt, to finally come up against a puzzle
that had proved too complex for him to
solve. "You're still the smartest man I know
you know," Carson told him, reaching out to
caress the side of Rodney's face. Rodney
paused in what he was doing for a moment,
one finger still prodding Carson's nipple,
and then he smiled and Carson thought he
could deliver all the spankings in the world
if it meant he got to see *that* smile, that
sweet, adorable smile that Carson knew for a
fact Rodney never flashed to anyone else.
"Thanks, Carson. You're not so bad at what
you do either, if you consider being a
voodoo medicine man actually a profession,"
he replied. Carson took great delight in
pinching Rodney's sore ass and eliciting a
pained yelp from his lover. Rodney recovered
quickly enough and lowered his head to take
Carson's nipple in his mouth, rolling it
expertly under his tongue and Carson moaned
and pushed up against him. Rodney moved onto
his other nipple and gave it the same
treatment and Carson surrendered under the
skilled attention, as he always did. Then
Rodney slid his lubed fingers into Carson's
ass, stretching him, whispering all the time
about how much Carson turned him on and how
he couldn't wait to be inside him. He slid
his other hand along Carson's hard cock as
he worked, pausing every now and then to go
back up to Carson's mouth for a deep,
loving, hungry kiss. Rodney's need was still
palpable he couldn't bear to be out of
skin to skin contact with Carson for even a
second and he needed constant reassurance
which Carson was happy to give. Finally
Rodney lubed his cock and parted Carson's
legs further, before positioning himself
between them. He looked down on Carson with
one of those unguarded smiles of his, full
of affection, and then slid easily inside
him. Carson gasped and wrapped his legs
around his lover and Rodney sank deeper in,
shifted to get a better position, and from
then on every thrust hit Carson's prostate,
sending him into paroxysms of pleasure which
milked Rodney's cock. Rodney was slow,
taking his time, and after he'd thrust for a
few seconds, he paused, pushed himself deep
inside Carson, and then rested against his
lover's body, kissing his neck and nipples
and mouth over and over again for a long
time.
"I'd like to stay here forever," he
whispered, his hard cock pulsing deep inside
Carson's body.
"Feels so damn good," Carson replied,
reaching his hands down to caress Rodney's
back. "I'd like that too."
"I love you, Carson," Rodney told him, those
blue eyes of his disarmingly close. Even if
Rodney's eyes told him that a thousand times
a day, Rodney himself rarely ever spoke the
words, so it meant a lot to Carson to hear
them.
"Love you too," Carson replied, stroking him
insistently. Rodney sighed and continued
kissing him for several long minutes until
finally the scientist sighed, shifted again
and began to thrust once more. It wasn't
long before they both came, and then Rodney
finally, regretfully, withdrew but only so
that he could take Carson in his arms and
hold him close. Carson nestled into him,
loving how affectionate Rodney could be
after a spanking often after sex he'd just
roll over and fall asleep, but now he looked
as if he just wanted to cuddle Carson all
night. They were quiet for awhile and then
finally Carson realised it was the kind of
quiet that meant that Rodney was thinking
about something.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Just wondering," Rodney said, with a tight
little squeeze. "It's just
I thought today
might be the day you finally christened that
cane on my ass," Rodney told him, and he
felt still and quiet behind Carson. Carson
turned in his arms to gaze at his lover.
"That thing scares the bloody life out of
me. I can't think you could do anything that
would deserve that," Carson replied. Rodney
relaxed a fraction.
"If I needed it would you use it?" he
asked. Carson paused.
"I don't know. Let's hope it doesn't come to
that," he replied. He reached out and ran
his hands over Rodney's still very hot
bottom and Rodney shifted and grinned at
him.
"So - I had a bad day," he said, echoing
Carson's words from earlier back at him.
Carson returned his grin.
"Aye. That was a pretty bad day all right,"
Carson replied.
Rodney rested his head on Carson's shoulder
and closed his eyes. "It got better though,"
Rodney murmured, and Carson smiled, and
kissed his cheek.
"Aye, it did, Rodney. It did."
The End
Friendly feedback much appreciated at
Xanthe@xanthe.org
Bad Day
By Daniel Powter
Where is the moment we need at the most
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
They tell me your blue skies fade to grey
They tell me your passion's gone away
And I don't need no carryin' on
You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
You're falling to pieces everytime
And I don't need no carryin' on
Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't
mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
Well you need a blue sky holiday
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carryin' on
You had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't
mind
You had a bad day
(Oh.. Holiday..)
Sometimes the system goes on the blink
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong
So where is the passion when you need it the
most
Oh you and I
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You've seen what you like
And how does it feel for one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
