Training's Not Over
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the movie American Assassin and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: An alternate ending to the movie. Still recovering from his injuries, Hurley tracks down Rapp to give him a lesson in getting overconfident. Fills the teacher or coach square in the Advent Bingo Challenge
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the whole movie; violence; references to torture; discussions of taking one's own life to avoid being captured
The elevator opened and Hurley had a brief sense of satisfaction when he saw Rapp's eyes narrow in surprise before he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. "You recovered quick."
"What can I say? I bounce back quick." Hurley stepped into the elevator, not taking his eyes off the younger man as he reached out and pressed the button to close the doors.
"You're here to try and stop me?" Rapp asked, with no inflection in his voice.
"Then why are you here?"
There were so many things he could say to that. "I made a mistake." Rapp's face didn't change and he didn't say anything, so Hurley continued, "With Ghost."
"He called me little brother." Rapp cocked his head to one side. "He was my predecessor. I guess he looked on you like his dad." He shrugged. "He shouldn't have. I don't."
"Good." Hurley was quick to respond. "You can't rely on anyone else."
"Lesson already learned." Rapp's lips quirked into what might have been the beginnings of a smile. "Again, why are you here? I didn't see anyone else, which means either they're keeping out of sight...or you came here alone."
"I came alone." Hurley knew Rapp was waiting for him to say why, but he didn't have an answer for the kid. Except that, for all his bravado while Ghost had held him captive, he knew he'd screwed up with the other man. The people Ghost had killed were on his head too. "I let Ghost become what you fought." The words were difficult to voice, but he had to say them. He had to take responsibility for his mistakes.
"What Ghost became was his own responsibility," Rapp replied. "You told me that you wouldn't come for me if I got captured. Don't worry. I believe you. And I won't become Ghost. I've already got plans in place for it if I do get captured."
"Plans...?" Hurley repeated, a rising note of disbelief in his voice. "You'll kill yourself if you get captured?"
Rapp lost his cocky half-smirk and narrowed his eyes. "That bothers you? I would've thought you'd be relieved that I've planned for it if I get captured."
One who had trusted in him too much. Now one who didn't want to rely on him at all. But Hurley wasn't going to repeat that mistake. No one could say he wasn't a quick learner.
Hurley didn't allow himself to give anything away. One moment, he was standing casually. The next, he had Rapp pushed up against the wall, their faces close enough to kiss. "New rule now," he ground out. "You get captured? You sit tight and wait for rescue."
"From me," Hurley confirmed.
That cocky half-smirk was back. "Are you trying to prove something to me, or to yourself?" His eyes widened just a fraction. "Or is this another test?"
"It's not a test." Rapp didn't try to pull free of his grasp and Hurley frowned, his ire growing at that cocky look that seemed permanently fixed on the youngster's face.
Using the grip he had on Rapp's lapels, Hurley pulled the younger man forward. There was no reaction as he put Rapp into a headlock, but their bodies were so close together, he could feel the tension in his former student's body.
When Hurley slapped his hand against the youngster's ass, the sound the smack made in the close confines of the elevator seemed abnormally loud. He pushed down the worry that someone might step inside, already planning his cover story out in his mind, and delivered another hard smack to the seat of Rapp's pants.
The younger man wriggled slightly. "Let me up."
Hurley wondered if Rapp was aware of how his body sagged against Hurley's side. He doubted the younger man had experienced anything like this before; Rapp's file made it clear he had no family. No one to care about him and any dangerous stunts he might pull. The thought that Rapp's history was exactly like Ghost's filtered through his mind, along with a sense of loathing so intense, he nearly lost his grip on his former student.
Forcing the guilt of his past down, Hurley continued to land firm smacks all over Rapp's backside. While he could feel the tension bleeding out of Rapp's body each time he smacked the seat of his pants, there was no sound or movement that suggested the spanking was getting through to him.
Hurley loosened his headlock and Rapp was quick to pull back from him. He turned to Hurley and raised his eyebrows, as if to ask, That's it?
"Take your pants down."
Rapp did flinch at that. A minute movement, but still obvious to Hurley. "What?"
"Take your pants down," Hurley repeated. "Put your hands against the wall."
"Is there a reason why you're spanking me like I'm a little kid?" Rapp asked, with only a slight inflection of curiosity in his voice.
"I'm not spanking you like a little kid," Hurley replied. "I'm spanking you as my student, who still has a lot to learn. And I'm spanking you for choosing to act recklessly with your own life and safety."
"You think I'm acting recklessly by choosing to take my own life rather than be captured?"
"I'm not going to lose another son." The words escaped before Hurley could stop them. He nearly took them back...but the look on Rapp's face stopped him.
The youngster looked shocked, but there was what looked like the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks. He swallowed visibly and then turned round as his hands went to the front of his pants.
Hurley watched as Rapp shoved his pants down to his ankles and then leaned forward, bracing his hands against the wall. When he widened his stance by moving his feet a fraction apart, it caused his backside to stick out.
Hurley moved to Rapp's side and placed his hand on the youngster's back. Lifting his other hand, he brought it down firmly on the seat of Rapp's briefs.
A sharp intake of breath was the only sign Rapp had felt anything and when Hurley slapped again, he put a little bit more force behind the smack.
Continuing in that vein, Hurley felt Rapp jerk when his hand landed on the youngster's bare thighs. Adjusting his grip slightly, he began swatting again from the crest.
"What are you trying to do?" Rapp asked, his voice starting to sound strained.
Hurley considered that, his hand continuing to bounce off the youngster's backside. By now, he was on the fourth circuit; and even though Rapp's reactions were minimal, Hurley could feel the warmth beginning to radiate through the thin material of the briefs.
Rapp was barely reacting, apart from slight twitches and little huffs of air. He was reacting like a soldier being punished. Which made sense. After all, that was how Hurley had trained him.
But it wasn't how he wanted Rapp to react now. He was starting to realise that punishing the youngster in this way was a mistake. Rapp had submitted because Hurley told him he didn't want to lose another son. But this wasn't the way he should be punishing his son.
Grasping Rapp's arm, Hurley sat down on the floor of the elevator, pulling the youngster down with him. He held back a wince as the movement pulled on still-healing wounds and guided Rapp across his lap.
A sharp intake of breath was the only reaction as the youngster shifted minutely, settling in place.
Hurley tugged the briefs down and felt Rapp tense up, though he didn't make a sound. The first smack on bare skin echoed even louder and Hurley glanced towards the doors. "Good job this is soundproofed."
There was no response; not that Hurley was expecting one. He could see a pink flush forming on Rapp's backside and focused on continuing to land firm, stinging smacks on the bare skin. By the time he reached the youngster's thighs again, Rapp was beginning to shift.
Hurley moved his other hand over Rapp's back, gently rubbing as he continued to smack. He didn't put nearly as much force behind the swats as he could have done, but by the time he started covering bare skin for the third time, Rapp was wriggling over his knees.
As he started focusing more swats to the youngster's sit spots and thighs, Hurley began to speak. "I know I told you not to rely on me, but that was a mistake. You are not to take your own life if you're captured. If you can't escape on your own, you sit tight and you wait for me to come and get you. Is that clear?" He punctuated every other word with a harder smack that sounded a bit more crisply in the small area.
"Fine!" Rapp ground out. "Now let me up."
"Not yet." Hurley watched the back of his head. He was still tense; still fighting. Shifting the younger man forward slightly, to better expose the creases between sit spots and thighs, and began directing more swats there. "I'm not here just to punish or train you. I know what you're planning to do. And I'm going to work with you. Otherwise you're going to get yourself killed."
"So you're going to stop me."
"I'm going to make sure you stay safe and don't treat yourself like you're expendable."
Rapp relaxed over Hurley's lap, the tension draining from him with each word. "You don't think I'm expendable."
"Or worth losing. Ghost was partially a result of my poor choices. Maybe you won't turn out like him...but I won't let you get lost like your big brother."
Rapp slumped completely and there was a slight hitch in his voice as he said, "Okay...Dad."
The name knifed through Hurley, along with a guilt-filled longing for his older boy. But Ghost was gone. And Rapp was alive and here.
Carefully pulling Rapp's clothing back into place, Hurley helped him to stand and then stood himself. Rapp's eyes were rimmed with red, but that was the only sign of the punishment he'd been given.
Hurley placed a hand on the youngster's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Let's get to the mission...son."