Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Kingsman movies and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: Written for the Lonely Prompts challenge. For this prompt: Any fandom, any/any A lie is revealed at the absolute worst possible time. When Whiskey's secret comes out, Harry has a different reaction
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for Kingsman: Secret Service and Kingsman: The Golden Circle; violence; some bad language; AU
Whiskey over-balanced and Eggsy reached to grab his legs, pulling him towards the mincer. They couldn't be blamed for this action. After all, he was prepared to let a whole lot of people die. And if it was a choice between letting only one person and killing potentially millions of people, Harry knew which choice he had to make.
The trouble was, Harry couldn't blame the man. Couldn't even say Whiskey didn't have the right to those feelings. The way he'd gone about it was wrong, but Harry had seen potential in Eggsy and had been proved right. It was a different feeling with Whiskey, but he'd learned long ago to pay attention to his instincts.
Harry lunged forward and turned the mincer off.
"Harry!" Eggsy's eyes widened. He lost his grip on Whiskey, who fell and landed on the counter.
"Get that code put in." Adjusting to the depth perception had been difficult, but Harry was confident he was unlikely to be seeing any more butterflies.
Whiskey tried to push himself up, but Harry quickly moved to his side, pushing him down with one hand while his other rose and fell with a loud slap.
"Harry." Eggsy backed away, his eyes widening. "Have you lost your mind again?"
"You'd better let me up," Whiskey growled, still trying to pull free.
In answer, Harry slapped his backside even harder, eliciting a sharp gasp from the other man. Pushing down more firmly, he directed, "Eggsy, put in the code."
"This isn't right," Eggsy muttered, even as he opened the laptop and began typing.
Ignoring both the comment from his partner and Whiskey's squirming, Harry slapped his hand down several more times, listening to the grunts coming from the other man. When Whiskey slumped, no longer trying to push himself up and break the grip on him, Harry hooked his fingers in the waistband of Whiskey's pants and yanked them down.
Whiskey threw his hand back and grabbed Harry's arm, digging his nails into skin. "Don't you fucking dare," he ground out.
"Eggsy, throw me that bit of lasso," Harry directed.
"You can't do this." Whiskey continued to struggle, finally throwing his other hand back.
A whistle through the air was Harry's only warning as the length of rope was tossed to him. He whipped his other hand back faster than a thought and caught the rope in midair. He then wrapped it around Whiskey's wrists, knotting it tight and secure.
Now that the other man was held fast, Harry turned his attention to Whiskey's boxers. He pulled them down too, revealing the bare backside and thighs.
"If you don't let me up now...!"
"It's done." Eggsy's voice broke into the threat. After a brief pause, he asked, "Want me to gag him with one of my socks?"
"That won't be necessary." Harry drew his hand back and delivered a firm smack to Whiskey's right buttock. He repeated the swat, harder this time, on the other side.
Writing from side to side, Whiskey attempted to avoid the swats as they landed on target. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn't get the momentum needed to force himself up.
"This an old-school Kingsman way of dealing with the bad guys?" Eggsy asked, coming up beside Harry.
Harry took a step to one side, avoiding Whiskey's flailing legs, and concentrated on his sit spots and thighs for a few moments.
"Let me up!" Whiskey's voice shook slighlty and the words came out strained. "You've won, haven't you?" he snarled. "You can let me up now. Lock me away."
"We're the only ones who know," Harry said, letting his hand rest on Whiskey's back. "This doesn't have to leave this place."
"Are you kidding me?" Eggsy demanded. "You're just gonna smack him on the ass a few times and all's forgiven?!"
"I understand your frustration, Eggsy..." Harry began.
"Ah, just let him kill me. Put me in that mincer," Whiskey said caustically. "You'll solve all those pesky problems that way."
"Sounds like the best idea I've heard all day." Eggsy walked over to the mincer.
"Turn that on and you'll be in this same position," Harry warned.
"Bloody hell," Eggsy muttered. "You're serious about this, ain't you? Going to what-save him? Who knows how many people died because he smashed that vial?!" Even as he protested, he stepped away from the mincer, arms crossed as he glared at Harry and Whiskey in turn.
"It doesn't matter if you agree with me or not," Harry said. "But I was right about him earlier. And I'm right about him now." He watched Eggsy until some of the tension bled from his partner's body and he dropped his gaze. Then Harry turned his attention back to the Statesman agent bent over the counter.
Whiskey's backside was a flushed pink already and he was breathing fast. He made no attempt to free his hands and when Harry rested a hand on his backside, all he did was shift slightly.
Drawing his hand back, Harry brought it down hard and watched the skin darken. Whiskey clenched his fists tightly in response, a half-heard groan escaping his lips. He shifted in response to the swats, though his struggles were no longer as intense as they had been.
By the time Harry paused, Whiskey's backside was shaded to a darker pink and his fists were clenched. His breathing was hard and fast and his body was slumped.
"You're fortunate I don't have my cane with me." Looking around, Harry spied the rest of the cut lasso and picked it up. "But I think this will do nicely." He brought back the length of rope, letting it swing in what was, in fact, a fairly mild strike against the crest of Whiskey's backside.
The other man jerked his head up and let out a gasp.
Harry let the rope swing a second and a third time, then continued until he reached Whiskey's thighs. Pausing, he let the rope rest lightly against the man's backside and spoke quietly. "You cannot tar everyone with the same brush. For everyone who misuses drugs, there are hundreds more who don't abuse them. Who are good people at heart."
"You don't understand," Whiskey muttered.
"Maybe you're right," Harry agreed. "Maybe I don't understand losing a wife. But I have lost people. I know how much it hurts. And I know it's easy to let the pain of that loss turn you into something else. But killing people...innocent people...is wrong. And letting them die is just as bad. I don't know what she was like, but I can't imagine she was someone who'd be happy with your actions."
Whiskey's body stiffened and then he let out a quiet sob, his body relaxing.
Dropping the rope, Harry leaned over and undid the knot holding Whiskey's wrists in place. He then pulled the other man's boxers and jeans back into place before helping him to stand. "We have to make our report."
"This is bullshit," Eggsy stated. "A slap on the wrist and that's it? Merlin's dead...!"
Harry reached his partner in a few quick strides and quickly pulled Eggsy down, tucking him under his arm and delivering ten quick smacks to his backside. "He didn't kill Merlin. And we only lost a little bit of time." He landed another five smacks and then pulled Eggsy back to his feet, reaching out and clasping his shoulder. "You need to trust me."
Eggsy frowned, reaching back and giving a quick rub to his backside. "I trust you. I don't trust him."
Harry glanced back over his shoulder at Whiskey, who stood there with only a trace of tears on his cheeks. They locked gazes for a few moments and then Whiskey inclined his head in a slight nod. "Thank you."
There was no need to say anything else. Harry nodded and the three of them walked out of Poppy's shop, leaving the carnage behind.