Chapter Text
The second Jocelyn’s car pulls away from the street outside their apartment, Bones grabs Jim and throws him over the end of the bed.
"I can’t fucking believe you!" He growls, unbuckling his belt and whipping it off so hard that it snags in one of the loops and tears it.
Jim has the cheek to sit back up and stare at him. “What?”
Since Jim is facing him, he shoves him backwards and drags his pants off; Jim looks bewildered. He shouldn’t even need to explain this to a grown man. “You called you mom a bitch in front of my six year old daughter! I don’t care if you have no respect for you own mother, but you can leave my goddamn kid out of it!”
Jim looks incredulous, and it’s true; it doesn’t really merit Leonard’s rage, but hell, he’s been waiting for an excuse to do this since they agreed that the safeword was in place 24/7, and that was three months back. “And what?”
Leonard loops the belt over. “Get in my fucking lap.”
Incredulity turns to realisation and then, probably out of shock, Jim obeys, hampered by the jeans shackling his ankles. He settles over McCoy’s lap from the left side, belly against his thigh. Bones can feel him breathing, quiet but deceptively deep, fast breaths. Panic. For a moment he wants to comfort him, but he’s worked himself into his space now, and he’s a doctor. Jim’s not gonna have a heart attack over a spanking that he has both the right and the means to stop.
So instead he ramps it up, jerking Jim’s underwear down too hard, pushing his chest off his right knee so that the cadet’s body hangs down between his legs, trapped by them and unable to reach back. He takes less than a second - and less than a fraction of the time he’d like - looking at Jim’s ass, all round and quivering slightly over the top of the waistband of those horrendous unofficial Starfleet boxers, and then reaches down between those thighs to take his pulse under the pretense of stroking the soft inner skin. About 130; Jim’s about to have a panic attack or maybe already is.
He rests a hand on the small of his back, stroking softly for just a spare moment to let Jim know that he’s safe - and then he brings the belt down on his ass, hard.
Jim startles from his trance, yelping and trying to get up off McCoy’s lap, but really, it’s helpless. It’s the helplessness that turns McCoy on, spurs him on, and he brings the belt back down in quick succession, landing ten or so hits in less than 30 seconds.
If he were in this relationship only for the sex, he’d do this more often. More severely, in fact, so that instead of clawing at Bones’ leg and kicking ineffectually like he is now, Jim would obey, because he’d know that to resist would make things worse.
But since it’s their first time, he just knocks the defensive feet that have come up to protect Jim’s ass out of the way with a well aimed blow across the soles of both, and carries on, a little slower now.
Slow enough to take in Jim’s gasps and cries, and to watch the skin redden between strikes.
"Bones, please!" Jim begs, but he doesn’t safeword.
McCoy feels particularly… Cruel. He punctuates his response with a series of severe blows across the same point on both cheeks, fully intending to leave a lasting mark.
"You!" Smack! "Will!" Smack! "Never!" Smack! "Disrespect!" Smack! "Your mother!" Smack! "In front of!" Smack! "Joanna!" Smack! "Again!" Smack!
Jim’s pleas fade out to choked noises and sobs. The tears are psychological; Jim’s come to Bones grinning with a broken skull before, a bruised ass is nothing by comparison. “Now Jim,” McCoy releases him from under his leg, bringing him shakily to his feet. “You’re going to bend over the edge of the bed, and you’re going to count.”
Jim looks so pretty, now, face streaked with tears, eyes wide and wild. His nose is running, which Bones will admit, detracts from his beauty, but the overall look is there. He shakes his head vigorously. “I can’t.”
"Yes you can," He says in his you-know-I’d-never-dish-you-something-you-couldn’t-handle voice, and Jim does, goes down face first onto the bed with his legs hanging off of the edge. "One I will not be disrespectful, two I will not be disrespectful. Gonna spank you hard, this time Jim. You ready?"
Jim shakes his head, and Bones straps his ass hard enough that a thick red line appears, overlaying the red-going-purple and making Jim scream.
McCoy waits patiently as he claws at the sheets, and curls his toes, sobbing uncontrolably against the duvet, until he catches his breath enough to say, “One, I will not be disrespectful.”
"Good boy." Bones murmurs, feeling the heat of the swollen skin before aiming.
The strap comes down a second time, and Jim doesn’t make a sound, the air knocked from his lungs. He pants his sobs harshly, and finally he counts. “Two… I won’t disrespect my mom.”
Bones forgives him his forgotten lines, but brings the belt down hard again, just below and overlapping the previous one. This time Jim jumps up onto the bed, curling away for just a second.
With visible effort, he lays back down, resists the urge to get up and run. He’s gone from pretty tears to ugly, desperate crying. He hasn’t safeworded, but he’s close, and since he was a good boy and got back into position, Leo lets the belt drop to the floor. He kneels by the bed and leans over to hug Jim whilst he cries, reaching back to stroke the abused flesh. It’s hot to the touch, burning even, and the last three, hard strokes have given the marks a pleasant, blocky appearance.
He mumbles praise in Jim’s ear, kissing the back of his neck whilst his lover calms down. Jim looks at him tearfully.
"You okay darlin’?" He kisses Jim’s lips gently, ignoring the taste of tears and snot.
"Am I gonna have to go to hospital?" Jim asks.
Bones laughs at him, tapping his ass playfully. “Don’t be so melodramatic. In three days the only proof this ever happened is gonna be the belt loop ripped off my pants.”
When he’s sure that Jim’s okay, he walks him to the corner with his boxers round his ankles. “Stand there for twenty three minutes, hands on the back of your head.” He says, softer than his earlier demands but no less firm.
Then he sits down at his desk and pretends to work whilst he watches Jim quietly sneak a hand back to rub the sting from those purple, bruised cheeks. He'll train him out of that another time.