Title: Crying For His Mommy
Author: Preston Tucker Tucker (P. T. Tucker)
Summary: Sinestro/Hal. Sinestro discovers Hal has been lying to the Corps about his encounter with Parallax and decides to do something about it. Hal discovers he likes it.
Prompt: Written for this prompt on gl-kinkmeme. If there's any other GL writers out there, go give the community some love!
"'Crying for his mommy?'"
Hal turned to face Sinestro, the man lounging against a nearby wall in what might have been an indifferent manner, if not for his clearly thin-lipped expression.
"Sinestro," Hal said, giving him his best bullshit smile, "You're looking as…delightful as ever."
"Indeed?" Sinestro drawled, raising an eyebrow in a way that spoke far louder than any of his words ever could hope to.
Hal stood up straighter and lifted his chin stubbornly.
"So, I may have…embellished the truth a little. It's not like I'm the first guy to add a little pizzazz to his encounters." He waived his hands dramatically at the "pizzazz" part but all that seemed to emphasize was his mentor's annoyed scowl.
Hal was half-tempted to point out that his face was liable to get stuck that way if he didn't watch out, but, knowing Sinestro, that was more likely to get him knocked through a wall or threatened with a construct blade than earn him a smile.
"No, but you are the first human Lantern. And you are the first Lantern to defeat such an enemy as Parallax on your own."
"And your point would be?"
"Some might take your dishonesty to be a trait of your race, which would be rather unfortunate for any human Lanterns that might follow after you. Worse, others might take your grandstanding for truth and expect far more from you than you could ever deliver. Tell me, Hal Jordan," Sinestro started towards him, looking every bit a deadly predator. Hal refused to back away and soon they were face-to-face. "Are you even able to maintain three constructs at once? Could you even summon the ten you supposedly used in your victory?"
For the first time in their conversation, Hal looked away, "I'm working on it."
"Is that so?" Sinestro started circling around him, sizing him up. "And how far have you gotten?" he asked nearby Hal's right ear. The pilot refused to turn around and instead looked straight ahead.
"I can summon two."
"How long can you maintain them together?"
"…About twenty minutes."
"Astounding," Sinestro mocked.
Fed up, Hal turned to glare at him, "Listen, I get it. I won't make the story out to be bigger than it was anymore. Now, if that's all, I have work to do."
Hal started towards the door, only to be yanked back, his arms pinned behind him by Sinestro's light. He contemplated starting a fight over it, but he figured he'd better not test the other right then.
"No, that is not 'all.' As I see it, you've committed a crime against the Corps with your lies and must be properly punished for it."
"Oh come on!" Hal groaned, "What are you going to do? Make me stand in a corner? Make me hold a sign saying what a terrible person I am? Huh? What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to bend you over my knee like you would a disobedient child."
The room seemed to freeze for a split second as Hal just stared at him, mouth dropping open.
And then he was struggling. He managed to blow his bindings apart, only to be captured by more. And thus a pattern presented itself: Hal blasting, punching, tearing, chopping, and anything else you can think of, the other's light, only to be quickly attacked again by more tentacle-like constructs. Meanwhile, Sinestro had gone back to leaning against the wall, looking bored.
The younger Lantern let out a rather undignified yelp, though he'd claim it was a manly roar of rage if anyone ever asked, as he felt one of Sinestro's creations suddenly smack him across the ass. Sinestro looked amused at the noise.
"Caught me by surprise," Hal hissed at him in response. "Like this!"
He sent a quick energy blast towards the other, only to have Sinestro calmly side-step it. Hal was smacked by two more constructs in the meantime.
Three more fast hits after that and Hal's ass was starting to sting.
"Knock it the hell off, Sinestro! I'm serious!"
He readied to send another blast Sinestro's way, only to have both the will and the wind knocked out of him as one of the light-tentacles hit him in the gut.
"What the hell was that?" Hal gasped, "I thought you said spanking, asshole."
Sinestro smirked, "Your punishment doesn't start until you submit. Consider your correct predicament a training exercise for future battles in which you must fight multiple opponents at once."
"Bastard. When I get out of this," he pulled against the green light futilely, "You're gonna wish-Wait! Wait!"
The construct that was just about to go for a low-blow stopped a mere inch from his family jewels.
"If you believe those you encounter in the field will stay strictly above-belt, you are a bigger fool than I originally thought, Jordan."
"Yeah, but…" Hal breathed in and out deeply, trying to catch his breath. Damn, he was tired. Why had no one told him that making shapes with his freaking mind would leave him so physically tired?
Seeing his opening, Sinestro calmly stated, "Submit now and I will not mention your exaggerations to the rest of the Corps. Nor will I force you to reveal them yourself. So long as you do not repeat your actions."
Hal wanted to continue fighting just for the sake of fighting; he was, after all, the "stubbornnest little poozer to ever have the misfortune of entering my ring" – according to Kilowog. However, looking into Sinestro's eyes, Hal knew the other was willing to do this for hours more and Hal was so not. Clearly, Sinestro had never entered Kilowog's ring.
Quick reflexes were the only things keeping Hal from hitting the floor face-first when the other Lantern's light disappeared.
"Only seventeen Earth minutes," Sinestro said, eyeing the read out from his ring, "I was expecting you to act like an idiot for at least another three. It seems you're full of surprises."
Brushing himself off casually, Hal refused to dignify that with a response.
Clearing his throat, Hal murmured, "So…" He couldn't bring himself to look the other in the eye.
Sinestro conjured a chair in the middle of the room and leisurely sat down upon it.
"You may keep your ring if you agree not to struggle."
Hal eyed the door on the far side of the room, wondering if he could make it there in time. As if reading his thoughts, Sinestro continued, "If you take this opportunity to run like a coward, I'll request permission from the Guardians, as your superior officer, to publicly punish you. The Corps couldn't stand the embarrassment of seeing one of its own paddled like a small child, but you will most likely be demoted from the position you just earned and sent back to the rookie squadron."(1)
"I'm not going to run and I'm not going to struggle. I've gotten worse punishments from my mom," Hal boasted, sticking his chest out.
Sinestro patted his lap and Hal almost stumbled on his way over to the other.
Face flushed with humiliation, Hal slowly lowered himself to lie across the other's legs.
"How many ar-"
"One." Sinestro whapped him with a green paddle.
Hal bit his lip from crying out.
Sinestro allowed him up after number thirty, and they both pretended not to notice that Hal practically molested his fellow Lantern with how much he had to cling to him to drag himself up. Hal silently wiped the blood from his lip, where he'd accidentally bitten through while trying not to make any noise. If nothing else, he could always tell people he hadn't cried like a little girl.
Maintaining as much of his pride as was possible, Hal turned away from the other and marched out the doors, ignoring the inquiring looks others gave his bloody mouth. They no doubt thought he'd punched Sinestro and the other had gotten him back better. Because it was always Hal that threw the first punch and Sinestro always got him back in a way that made him regret it. That much at least he could be honest with himself about.
As luck would have it, Kilowog was flying by as he made his way to the medical area and the big guy pulled up alongside him.
"Hey poozer, where you going in such a hurry?"
"Medical." Hal bit out. Medical – for his lip. He didn't want to explain it to Carol. Not for his ass. He wouldn't give Sinestro the satisfaction, even if the bastard would never ask him about it.
"Who'd you piss off this time?"
"…Sinestro," Hal murmured, figuring there was no need to hide it. Everyone had heard the other Lantern summon him to his quarters earlier and it seemed like half the Corps had seen him leaving it bloodied.
Kilowog just laughed.
"I gotta ask: is it big?"
Hal eyed him, "Is what big?"
His quarters? His fist? His kind, loving heart?
The last one made him snort out loud, causing Kilowog to give him an odd look but the other didn't comment.
Hal was certain he'd given himself whip-lash as he stopped so suddenly it looked like he'd slammed into some sort of invisible barrier.
Several passing Lanterns gave him a strange look and he quickly lowered his voice, "You did not just say that."
"Sorry, I didn't realize it was a secret. Though, considering Sinestro, I suppose I should have guessed." Kilowog shrugged.
"What makes you think- How could you even-" Hal took a deep breath and said calmly, "I am not involved with Sinestro in any way, shape, or form." Except, you know, he kinda wanted to punch his face in the next time he caught him alone. Did that count?
"Riiiiight," Kilowog –Kilowog- winked at him, "Whatever you say poozer." The big alien gave him one of his usual industrial-strength shoulder-slaps that just about sent Hal careening off into space before flying off.
Hal scowled at nothing before flying off himself. Sinestro was a controlling, demanding, pain in the ass (literally) bastard. What the hell had given others the impression that he could stand the other, much less like him…like that?
Ok, after careful observation, in other words, several jerk-off fantasies in which Carol had not played a starring role, Hal admitted quietly to himself that perhaps Kilowog had a point. In fact, if he was brutally honest with himself, the big guy, and whoever else might think along the same lines as him, had perhaps realized something important about Hal that he hadn't realized about himself.
Not that he was completely gay; no, he loved boobies, thank you. But that he was perhaps, just a little, sexually attracted to anyone that was controlling, demanding, and just a little bit of a pain in the ass. He wasn't into being smacked (he'd done a little experimenting with himself to confirm it), but rather the idea of being punished for not doing as he was told.
He found that now that Carol was proud of him and no longer yelling about how annoyed she was all the time, she was actually kind of boring. In fact, he'd had "happy fun time" in the shower three times in the past two days alone and each time the idea of someone yelling at him, humiliating him, pinching him, what-have-you, in response to something he'd done wrong had gotten him so hard he'd just about blown before he'd touched himself.
He didn't even want to contemplate how much he'd liked the idea of being used as a footstool in front of the entire Corps had done to him. Though, he was positive he'd throw himself off a bridge without his ring if such an event ever actually occurred outside his dreams.
Sinestro had featured prominently in his latest fantasies but Hal wasn't certain if it was because he was more physically attracted to him than Carol or if it was because he was fairly confident Sinestro could, and probably would, do some of the more drastic things he'd thought up in his dreams. Granted, he doubted the alien would actually repeatedly hold him underwater until he agreed to clean his boots by tongue, but the mere idea that he had the power to do so if he ever wanted to gave Hal a funny feeling inside which had nothing to do with his sometimes questionable eating habits.
And so it didn't really come as any surprise that Hal found himself back in Sinestro's quarters not three weeks after their initial incident.
"Tell me Jordan, does your female companion on Earth not satisfy you?" Sinestro asked casually.
Hal started, giving the other an uncertain look before stubbornly answering, "I don't think that's any of your business."
"Isn't it? When you put yourself and your fellow Lanterns in danger in order to fulfill a selfish sexual desire with your superior officer, it becomes my business."
Sinestro was suddenly there, looking down at him from inches away.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hal answered, refusing to look away.
There was a pause before Sinestro ordered, "Remove your uniform."
"You can't kick me out! Only the Guardians can do that and I've done nothing wrong!" Hal snapped, worry starting to form in the pit of his stomach. As far as he knew, Sinestro didn't have the power to take his ring, but, then again, it was Sinestro.
Hal got the feeling the other was resisting the urge to roll his eyes when he responded, "While I may not necessarily agree with the last part of that statement, I'm not revoking your position in the Corps. I'm going to hit you. Perhaps a few smacks on your bare bottom will satisfy you enough for you to complete your latest mission without deliberately creating problems. After that, we can find you someone who enjoys giving pain as much as you enjoy receiving it. I believe the Tulsarians are especially skilled in this art."(2)
Hal flushed, "It's not like that."
"Really?" Sinestro's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "And what is it 'like'? Do not lie to me and claim you did not miss the cannon on purpose earlier today. I saw you glance in my direction immediately before firing your ring. You put everyone with you in danger in order for your own gain."
Hal swallowed and whispered, "I would have shot it if it looked like it was about to fire again."
"And if you'd gotten distracted before that could happen?"
"…It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't."
"I don't like pain. I like being controlled," Hal blurted out suddenly as Sinestro turned to leave. He didn't want the other to continue on believing he was like that. The last thing he needed was Sinestro introducing him to some Tulsarian war-goddess who wanted to rip duct-tape off his chest or something weird like that.
There was utter stillness in the room before Sinestro turned back to look at him. There was contemplation in his eyes.
"A great deal of being controlled is knowing that there are consequences to your actions should you disobey."
Hal didn't reply, though he was glad the other had caught on so quickly. Explaining his newly-discovered sexual preferences to an annoyed alien he'd known all of five months was already mortifying enough without having to get into the semantics of "pain" and "punishment."
"Very well. I agree to be your controller, your master, if you will," Sinestro said finally. Hal shivered at the word master.
"So long as you agree to stop putting your fellow Lanterns in danger."
Hal nodded quickly, not quite trusting his voice not to do something unmanly right at that moment.
Sinestro summoned the same chair that he'd used the last time Hal had been in his quarters and stretched out his legs.
"I want you to clean my boots."
"With my tongue?" Hal asked, eyes wide.
Sinestro gave him his patented Look, the one that clearly said he was wondering why he never just murdered you and hid your body somewhere no one would ever, ever find it. Hal might have been worried for his life if not for the tiniest hint of amusement that managed to break through.
"If you wish. I was thinking more along the lines of having you create the constructs needed and seeing how long you can hold them for."
Hal snorted, but dropped to his knees anyway. "Only you would turn this into a training session."
"Of course. I have to get something out of this agreement."
Hal rolled his eyes, "Clearly you're being so put-upon, what with me practically agreeing to be your slave for no reason."
"Hardly 'no reason', Jordan. I expect you'll want to masturbate when I order you to pleasure me with your mouth after you've completed your current task," Sinestro replied, clearly smug. As usual.
Hal bit back a retort and refused to acknowledge how very hard that statement made him. He wouldn't give the arrogant bastard the satisfaction.
Ok, I get that the Corps all have their own sectors, so they're kinda all equal, but you can tell that there's definitely some hierarchy going on. I know for a fact that in the comics (what little I've read of them) Guy is in the Honor Guard or something.
Totally made these people up. If anyone knows of an actual race in the GL world that enjoys torturing people or whatever, let me know!
AN: My first posted fic! Yippie! I know it's not that good (I have a serious word-choice problem) but there doesn't seem to be much GL slash around and so I figured this couldn't hurt. On that topic, is there another word for "construct" besides maybe "creation?"
Feel free to give me some constructive criticism/pointers. I would like to improve more than I'd like to have my ego stroked.