by Raven
id you find what you were looking for?"
Walter snapped on the room lights as he asked it, and the black-clad young man that had been attempting to liberate the contents of Walter's desk drawers, leapt to his feet.
The would-be thief was young, Walter noted, scarcely more than a boy. He was also frightened, the jewel-green eyes wide, fingers clenching and unclenching around the bag he still held in his hands. As Walter watched, the novice burglar darted a glance around the room, obviously seeking an escape route. It was useless. The windows were set high along the wall, to let in light but ensure privacy, while the only door was blocked by Walter himself.
He was still wearing just his sleep pants, the sounds of someone creeping in his balcony doors having roused him at once. He stood in the doorway now, gun in one hand, the other reaching for the phone.
"No!" The youth, figuring Walter was calling the authorities, took on a desperate, pleading look, making him seem even younger. "Please don't call the cops."
"Little boy, I am the cops. I'm an assistant director with the FBI. And you are?"
The news of Walter's identity made the slight figure pale even more. He bit down on his bottom lip, and his eyes were suspiciously bright.
"I asked you a question, boy, what's your name?"
"Alex. Alex Krycek."
"How old are you, Alex?"
"Twenty-one." Walter looked patently disbelieving at this number, knowing it was inflated, but not by how much. Alex, seeing that he wasn't believed, tried again.
"Nineteen." Another level look from the large man with the gun, a hand reaching again for the telephone.
"Seventeen! I-I'm seventeen." The blush and stammer told Walter that this was likely the truth, and he eased the safety on the gun, before lowering it.
"Better. Now, why are you in my study at o-dark thirty?"
"I was supposed to look for a folder, a blue folder. They didn't tell me why or what, just to break in, get the folder and come back out."
"I see. And who are they?"
"I don't know. I got a phone call from...the guy I work for, he said he had a different kind of job for me, gave me your address, told me what to look for."
"Have you done this kind of work before?"
"No." Walter searched the handsome face intently, looking for a trace of deception, found none. The boy was still frightened, but he'd calmed a little when he saw that Walter wasn't moving to the phone again.
"So, you're just a whore, not really a thief?" The words brought two spots of bright color into the boy's cheeks, and the eyes darkened, taking on a dangerous hue. Walter saw the fear leave, replaced by a daring that he had to admire.
"You might be interested, I usually hire out to old men that want to feel me up while I call them Uncle. I don't suck or fuck, but I promise to cry real tears."
They glared at each other for a long moment, then Walter made a short sound of amusement. He put the gun away in a nearby drawer, being sure the boy saw him re-work the numberlock.
"So, Alex, give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops."
"I can't. I don't have one. But I'm asking you, please don't call them. I don't want to go back there." The face took on a shadowed look, and Walter felt a surge of pity. He could imagine what jail, even Juvie, was for a good looking boy like Alex. Still, something had to be done.
"If you don't want to go back there, then you should get a new line of work, boy. Go back to school."
Alex sneered. A hate and loathing filled his features, and he said with perfect honesty, "I'd rather go back to the Hall. School has nothing for me. As for a new line of work, I'm exploring my options. Another year and I can enlist, no questions asked. That's another reason I don't want you to call. There's nothing real on my record, not yet. If I can keep it that way, they won't ask too many questions when I sign up."
"Not a bad plan. But there's still the matter of you breaking into my home and trying to rob me. I don't intend to just let you waltz out of here scot-free."
Alex's face changed slightly, and Walter noticed a trace of seduction in the features. The boy ran a slow tongue along an over-ripe bottom lip, and fluttered those impossible lashes again.
"Forget it. You're not seducing your way out of this. I want to see you learn a lesson, not reinforce one you've already got down pat."
Walter's voice showed clearly that this wasn't going to work, and Alex sighed, took a deep breath, and moved slowly to stand in front of Walter.
"Go ahead. I'm ready. Only...only don't mess up my face too bad, okay? I need it, it pays the rent, you know?"
He was serious, the kid was dead serious, and his body clearly showed him ready for a beating. Walter felt his reluctant admiration for this kid go up another notch.
"I'm not going to beat you, Alex. I want to punish you, not hurt you. I want you to regret your actions because they were wrong, not because you're injured."
"Look, spare me the Father Flanigan speech, okay? You want to punish me, go ahead. But do what you're going to do and let me go."
Alex sounded uneasy as he said this, and Walter guessed there was still a sliver of conscience in the boy, and the compassion was pricking at it.
"Very well, Alex." Walter had pulled out his desk chair, being careful to still block the doorway. He took a seat, and held out his hand.
"Take down your pants and come here."
Alex flushed again, searching Walter's face for the lust that sort of request usually came with. He didn't find it, seeing instead only a steely determination in the warm brown depths.
"Now, Alex." The voice was still calm, but the man's patience was clearly drawing to an end. Swallowing hard, Alex pushed his black jeans and briefs down to his knees, and moved the step needed to be in front of Walter. Moments later, he was positioned face down across the strong thighs, his naked rear tilted up for punishment.
"Alex, this isn't a beating. This isn't a sex game. This is an honest attempt to make you think before you take this kind of job again. It's going to hurt and hurt a lot. But you'll be okay after. Do you understand that, Alex?"
"Yes, sir." The words were a husky whisper, and Walter could tell they weren't part of a play act. They'd been dredged up from somewhere deep inside the boy, and Walter thought there might be hope yet.
"Good. Now don't be brave on my account. Spankings hurt, it's okay to yell and cry, I won't think any less of you for tears. I do want you to try and think about why I'm doing this, what the purpose behind it is. Can you try to do that for me, Alex?"
"I'll try, sir."
"That's all I ask. Are you ready, Alex?" A nod, and Walter drew his hand back, bringing it down hard on one rounded cheek. Alex jerked like a fish on a line, and a small grunt escaped him. Walter looked at the red mark he'd made on the pale flesh, and decided it was about right. He made another one on the other cheek, then simply began to cover the entire surface. Walter wasn't spanking fast, but he didn't drag it out either. He calmly, methodically spanked every inch of the boy's trembling hindquarters, his broad palm rising and falling with harsh precision.
Alex was yelping with each loud crack of Walter's hand, and his squirms were turning into a useless attempt to avoid that same hand. His bottom was on fire, burning hotter and brighter with each heavy slap, the flesh increasingly tender from the repetition.
"Please, sir, please! Oww! I won't...won't... Uhhhn! ...do it again! Ahhh! Please!"
Walter paused, looking down at the sniffling young man across his knees. Alex was crying, lying limp now that Walter wasn't spanking him anymore. The bottom certainly looked well- punished, the color a shocking contrast to the boy's back and thighs. Walter let his palm rest on it for a moment, feeling the intense heat coming off the skin, the way Alex groaned, squirming under the light touch.
"What was the lesson, Alex?"
"Not-not to st-steal. To-to stay clean." It was close enough, and would hopefully keep the boy from serious harm. He might not be able to sit down for a while, but he wasn't injured, and he wasn't in jail.
"Alright, Alex. All done." The words brought a sound of relief, and Walter couldn't resist rubbing the lean back for a few moments, before carefully easing the clothing back up. Alex winced, but was grateful for the covering as Walter helped him stand up again.
Walter saw the boy put his hands back, rubbing his very sore bottom. He'd dropped his gaze and head again, and now looked impossibly young with his emerald eyes spilling tears, and the quivering bottom lip.
"One more thing, Alex."
"Yes, sir?" It was a subdued whisper, and Walter said nothing, only reached out to hug the boy. There was a moment of resistance in the body, then it fled, leaving Walter with an armful of crying, shuddering, clinging boy.
"It's okay, Alex, it's okay, let it all out, I've got you."
Walter lifted the boy, carrying him to the couch. He eased Alex down, then took a seat beside him, reaching out to again take Alex into his arms.
They held like that for a long time, and when Alex quieted, he eased back, looking into Walter's concerned brown eyes.
"Thank you, Walter." He kissed his partner briefly, still too caught up in the after effects of the scene they'd just played to be ready for more.
"You're welcome, love. Was it what you wanted?"
"It was perfect, exactly what I wanted." Walter reached out for a tissue, cleaning the face that now showed only his mature lover, no frightened youth to be seen.
"How do you do that, look so young, then look like you?"
"I widen my eyes, keep my mouth open but pursed slightly and look up a lot. It's just a whore's trick, no big deal."
Alex yelped as one of Walter's hands slapped his still throbbing rear.
"What did you say?"
"It's just an old actor's trick, no big deal."
"Better. Now, why don't I take you upstairs and help you take a shower? It's late, we should go to bed."
"Sounds good, and I could definitely use a shower. Damn, Walter, my ass is killing me. When you play, you don't play, know what I mean?" Alex had stood, and now continued to try and soothe his aching rear.
"You told me to go hard, you've no one to blame but yourself. You know, most people go to therapy to deal with this shit."
"Yeah, but my way's more fun. Plus, I get to fuck my therapist when I'm done." There was lustful mischief on Alex's face, and Walter chuckled.
"Yeah, and I get to nail you to the mattress. Upstairs, go."
Alex leaned in for a kiss, then made his way to their bathroom. Walter sighed, shaking his head as he thought about his very complicated lover. Alex was work, but he was definitely worth it.
Turning out the lights, he headed upstairs.
THE END.
