Somebody's Gotta Do It

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Supernatural and I'm not making any money from this fic

Summary 1: Written for the Lonely Prompts challenge. For this prompt: Supernatural Pairing: Henriksen/Dean Situation: Henriksen gives Dean a good, solid whipping for breaking the law or putting himself in unnecessary danger. Or it could be more playful with Henriksen just trying to put Dean in his place. Implement: Belt or switch for discipline would be delightful, but so would anything else and even just a hand would be fine for the latter scenario. Type of spanking: Domestic discipline would be the ultimate, but with these two, snarky erotic would also make my day Harshness: Again, you couldn't make it too harsh for me, but it can also just be Henriksen warming Dean's bottom enough to prove he can get him off on it.

Summary 2: Because someone's got to do it. More of a PWP; a missing scene where Dean and Henriksen are in the office

Warning(s): Spanking (with a belt); spoilers up to and including the season three episode Jus in Bello; heavy references to violence


"I guess somebody's gotta do it," Henriksen commented, glancing towards the door of the office.

Dean followed the line of Henriksen's gaze. Had the other man heard something? They should be safe in here, however temporarily. Even if there was an entire army of demons camped outside. "You mean hunt the things that go bump in the night?"

"No." Henriksen paused, glancing to Dean, and then walked over to the door and pushed it closed until it clicked, before turning to face Dean. "Or yes. But that wasn't what I meant."

Dean looked towards the door and then at Henriksen. "You got something you want to get off your chest?"

"I meant that someone's gotta whip your ass."

Dean's first instinct was to laugh; and that's exactly what he did, shaking his head. "Yeah. That's a good one."

"I'm not kidding." Henriksen unbuckled his belt, pulled it through the loops and doubled the leather in his hand.

Dean had to admit, the other man didn't look like he was joking. But it was hard for him to lose his smile. The conversation had taken such a surreal turn. "You want to hurt me to...what? Teach me a lesson?"

"It's not about pain," Henriksen said. "I don't doubt you've seen more than your fair share of that. But the way I see it? Someone needs to step in. I've seen your file." A slightly sardonic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you could say I'm something of the expert on Dean Winchester."

"Some expert." Dean couldn't quite tear his eyes from the belt dangling from the other man's hand, but even that didn't stop him speaking his mind. "You didn't even know all of this was real. Not until you got down and dirty with a demon yourself," he added.

"You're right. But I can't be the first sceptic you've run across."

"Oh, yeah." Dean laughed. "You're not even the only law enforcement guy to get up close and personal with something that goes bump in the night."

"I can believe that." Henriksen let the belt swing gently from his hand. "We can spend the next hour or so talking, but you're not leaving here until you bend over the desk for an ass whipping."

"So you're not gonna let this go?" Dean wasn't sure what it said about him that he wasn't resisting or arguing with the other man. Maybe because he thought he deserved something, even if it was only for making the choice to take himself from Sam in less than a year.

"Your brother's not gonna step in and give you what you need," Henriksen commented. "Breaking the law. Putting yourself in so much danger. I think this is something you should have had a long time ago."

"If anyone else wanted to do this to me..." Dean put his weapons on one side of the table, to his left, and then stood up. Henriksen hadn't told him he needed to take his pants down and so he simply leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, looking straight ahead.

Henriksen didn't respond. Dean heard him step up and then a whistle through the air as the other man swung the belt. He jumped as the leather impacted with his backsiide and curled his hands into fists as he struggled to stay down.

The belt landed a second and a third time, each one painting a burning stripe across his backside. By the time six strikes had landed, Dean's breath was coming out in harsh little puffs of air. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and blinked rapidly.

"I'm not expecting you to stop breaking the law. Or to stop pulling dangerous stunts," Henriksen said.

Dean couldn't help it. He barked out a laugh. "If this isn't about me breaking the law and doing dangerous shit, then what the hell am I doing bent over the desk?"

"This is to remind you next time. That you need to be careful. That pulling dangeorus shit might fly sometimes, but you've got a brother in the other room who needs you to stay alive. And the way you're acting right now? That's not gonna happen."

Dean hissed out his breath sharply as the belt began to land once more. He clenched his fists and stared at the wall as Henriksen's belt continued to burn his ass. He couldn't tell the other man that he was already a dead man. That he had less than a year before his soul was dragged to hell. He drew in another ragged breath. "You want me to promise I'll stay alive? I can't do that."

"I know you can't. But I expect you to try."

The belt continued to land, this time harder and faster. Pretty soon, Dean couldn't distinguish the individual strikes. He was sure his ass was bright red under his pants and he stamped his feet to try and ease the burning pain. "We've got a whole army of demons camped outside and you're worried about me keeping my ass out of the fire?" he demanded.

"Exactly. You and your brother are gonna disappear after we get out of this mess. We're not likely to see each other again. But this ass whipping? It'll stay with you for a while. And even after the sting fades, you're not likely to forget this any time soon."

Dean breathed in deeply. "Okay." His acceptance surprised him. His bottom was throbbing and his emotions were close to the surface, but he hadn't broken. Not yet. "If it's really that important..."

"Yeah." Henriksen's hand came to rest on his back and the belt began to land harder and faster, covering every inch of Dean's bottom yet again.

The burning throb caused Dean's vision to blur and he breathed in deep to stop himself from beginning to sob outright. He couldn't stop the ass whipping unless he wanted to turn round and punch the other man. "You gonna chase after us again?"

"Nah. I'll let you both die in my report." Henriksen paused speaking, but continued belting, even as he said, "But if our paths cross again and I find out you've put yourself in danger again? I'll bend you right back over and whip your ass again," he warned.

Those words caused the fight to go out of Dean and he slumped over the desk, breathing in deep. "I get it," he said. "You plan to keep me in line. To take me to task." Like he did with Sam...but he didn't say those words out loud.

"Yeah. And now that I know what to look out for, I'll know the signs of where you're putting yourself in danger and will be able to step in when we do see each other again." Henriksen took a step back and Dean heard him putting the belt back on as he said, "You can get up now."

Dean slowly pushed himself up from the desk, resisting the urge to reach back and rub his ass. He opened his mouth, but a crash sounded from outside the room.

Exchanging glances, Henriksen and Dean grabbed their weapons and went to investigate.

The End