Redemption From The Heart
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: Companion to the Letters 'What I Need' and 'I Know'. Oliver comes to Slade
Warning(s): Spanking; some mentions of violence; spoilers for the first two seasons of Arrow; AU
It was ingrained in him to wake at the slightest sound. And his guards weren't exactly quiet. Neither was Oliver, when he put on his 'rich boy' persona.
Slade came fully to, but narrowed his eye to a slit. Outside the bars of his cell, he could make out the forms of his guards, both big, hulking men he knew he would be able to take out easily if he chose to. Even without the mirakuru still coursing through his veins.
Opposite them stood Oliver. The relaxed look on his face belied his tense posture as he laughed and joked with the two men like they were great friends. But after only a few moments, his eyes locked onto Slade's face.
Slade didn't move, but he knew Oliver was aware he was awake. It didn't take long for the kid to extricate himself from the guards, who left after handing him a key card.
Slade opened his eye fully and sat up as Oliver slid the door to one side and stepped into the cell, pulling the door closed behind him.
The silence between them was heavy. Even after the e-mail, Slade hadn't been sure he was making the right move. He'd already hurt Oliver almost beyond repair. Words and actions hung heavy between them and despite his earlier certainty in the messages he'd sent, he was no longer sure of what he was about to do.
Oliver waited, eyes roving over Slade's face. After a moment, he set his pack down and opened it. Without taking his eyes off Slade, he reached inside and drew out a long, sturdy-looking switch. When he wordlessly held it out to Slade, a little of the haunted look in his eyes was gone.
Okay. He could do this. Slade was used to responding to the kid. He stood up and held his hand out for the switch. When Oliver placed it there, he looked it over critically and then swished it through the air a couple of times before nodding. He placed the switch on the bed and then turned back to Oliver.
The kid was dressed smart-casual. He wore a shirt and jacket over trousers with a black leather belt encircling the waist. He wore black boots on his feet.
Slade didn't allow himself to feel any hesitation. Oliver was here. Oliver needed him. Nothing else mattered.
When Slade put his hands on Oliver's jacket, he felt the kid relax and slant towards him. The stripping was done in silence and slowly. Slade didn't rush it and allowed his fingers to brush Oliver's bare skin often. He moved Oliver where he wanted him and eventually, the kid was standing in a pile of his own clothes.
Slade hadn't seen Oliver naked in a long time. There'd been no modesty between them on the island and it was almost scary how fast the years between them had fallen away. He closed his hand around Oliver's wrist and moved back to the bed. Taking a seat, he guided the other man across his lap, adjusting his position slightly.
This position allowed Slade to see, in stark detail, the brand he'd had placed on Oliver's back. Guilt stabbed through him and for a moment, he considered calling a halt to this. How could he think he could take on this responsibility again?
And then Oliver's hand reached down to hesitantly grasp his ankle and Slade refocused on what he was doing and why they were here.
Slade rested his hand gently on Oliver's lower back. He patted the kid's bare backside and then lifted his hand, bringing it down sharply on Oliver's right cheek. The second and third smacks landed in exactly the same spot and he continued, the flushed pink mark forming on Oliver's bottom giving him a target to aim for.
Slade stayed on that one particular spot until he heard a faint whine escape from Oliver. He then proceeded to do the same thing on Oliver's left cheek, repeating the process until the younger man was beginning to shift and squirm in position.
Slade didn't put a whole lot of force behind the smacks, relying on the repetitive smacks to be effective. He continued covering Oliver's entire backside until, from the crest down to the tops of his thighs, it was a uniform red.
By the time Slade paused, he could feel the heat radiating from Oliver's bottom. He let his hand rest gently on the kid's backside and rubbed for a few moments. He could feel the minute trembling in the other man's back under his other hand. He rubbed for a few more moments and then moved his hands.
He didn't need to say anything. Oliver pushed himself up. His eyes looked slightly damp and his face was flushed, but he hadn't reached the point he needed to. Not yet.
Slade stood up and reached out to grasp Oliver's elbow. He positioned the kid closer to the bed, pushing down on his back to encourage him to bend over. He heard a tiny little exhale, almost a sigh, escape Oliver's lips and then he just focused his attention on the wall.
Slade picked up the switch and stood to one side of Oliver, bracing his hand on the kid's back. Lifting the switch, he brought it down with a soft whish that became a crack at the crest of Oliver's bottom. A white mark appeared that darkened to a deeper red.
Oliver sucked in a breath sharply.
Slade brought the switch down a total of five times and then switched hands, moving round to Oliver's other side. When he brought the switch down for a sixth stripe, he saw Oliver's hands grip tightly on the bed. The seventh wrested a quiet gasp and the eighth a near sob. Hardening his heart and forcing himself to continue, he landed the final two stripes, though he used considerably less force for the final two.
Dropping the switch, Slade let his hand rest gently on Oliver's back, feeling a slight heave of the kid's back under his palm. He rubbed gently and then moved his hand to Oliver's shoulder, helping him to stand.
Once he was on his feet, Oliver didn't waste any time. He stepped closer to Slade, his movements hesitant, as if he was unsure he was allowed to reach out.
Slade closed his eye and stepped closer to Oliver, so their bodies were brushing against each other. The sensation of having let Oliver down so completely threatened to tear him apart, but when the kid leaned against his chest and simply closed his eyes, Slade felt a bit of his own heart begin to thaw out a bit.
Oliver's quiet voice caught him by surprise. "You won't leave me alone again?"
"No, kid," Slade whispered, his words a promise. "Never again."