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“Blue?”
Blue was still in the middle of his cool down stretches when Yellow peaked his head into the dance room. He was holding his hat in his hands, fingers clutching the brim, turning it round and round - nervous.
“Yes, darling?” Blue asked from his position on the ground, body coated in a sheen of sweat and pulled into a pigeon pose quad stretch. He could see the way Yellow’s eyes fluttered over him, pausing on his chest, thrust forward by the pose, before flying to the ground.
Blue smiled and carried on holding the stretch.
“Oh, gosh, ‘course you’re busy. Don’t know what I was thinkin’ bargin’ in here like this. Sorry, sorry-”
“Yellow,” Blue said, stopping Yellow from apologizing further or, worse, attempting to scurry away. “I’d be happy to have you join me. Come in, dear.”
Yellow, who had gone obligingly quiet, took a small step into the room. More fiddling with his hat, his eyes raised just slightly, looking up through his lashes - shy, contrite.
Blue noticed Yellow had thankfully already had the decency to remove his shoes, apparently remembering, after the last time, that Blue preferred any visitors to the dance studio avoid dirtying the floor as much as possible.
“Ya really don’t mind? I don’t want to disturb ya or be a botha’,” Yellow said, still hovering just within the doorway - still the sweetest picture of contrition Blue ever did see.
Blue hummed, a soft, warm feeling in his chest radiating with it.
“Not at all darling,” he said, releasing his ankle and unwinding his body only to rearrange himself for the same stretch on the other side. He kept his eyes on Yellow’s as he added, “You know I like it when you watch me.”
A pink blush rose rapidly in Yellow’s cheeks, a bright, bashful smile taking hold of his lips as he stumbled out a,”Ah, geez, when you put it like that, I guess… And ya know I love to watch you! Being the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on and all!”
Yellow took a few rapid steps further into the room, sliding a bit on his socked feet, then crouched down to take a seat against the wall, being careful not to hit his head on the ballet bar screwed into the wall on his way down.
He seemed so content just sitting there, Blue almost hated to ask, but…
“Did you need help with something?” Blue uncoiled from his stretch again, reaching his legs out in front of him and leaning forward to grab his toes.
“Huh?”
“If you just came to see me, I’m touched. But I don’t think we had plans to meet up right after my practice, so I thought you might have needed help with something.”
“Oh! Oh, I…”
Blue glanced up. Yellow was fiddling even more with his hat now, turning it faster and faster, his brow furrowed.
Interesting.
“I s’pose I did have an idea,” Yellow said, “and I wanted to run it by you.”
Blue sat upright, judging this as serious enough to need his full attention.
“An idea?” he asked, prompting Yellow to continue.
“Yeah, see,” Yellow paused in his fiddling, set the hat aside and looked straight at Blue. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout how you’re so smart. You always seem to be able to untangle all my knotted up trains of thought when I get it in my head that I done somethin’ bad, but it actually wasn’t my fault. Or if it was my fault, you make me see how it’s not so bad as I get to thinkin’ it is. That I’m not as bad as I get to thinkin’ I am.
“So, I was thinkin’ about this and I realized: If I can’t be trusted to know when I really deserve to be punished, maybe I shouldn't be in charge of it!”
Yellow was staring at Blue with a wide-eyed intensity, now - as if the secrets of the universe had suddenly fallen into his lap and Blue was the answer to everything.
Blue, for his part… wasn’t quite sure he was following.
“I’m sorry, darling. Could you lay it out a bit more plainly for me?” Blue asked. “I’m glad that you’re thinking seriously about your stance on punishing yourself, but. What do you mean, you shouldn’t be in charge of it?”
In his fervor, Yellow rolled onto his hands and knees, crawling towards Blue until he was at his side, clasping Blue’s hands between his.
“It’s you Blue! You should be in charge o’my punishments! I know you’d be fair to me - make sure my punishments suit my crimes.”
“I… Me?” Blue was gobsmacked to put it lightly. He’d always tried to be a source of comfort and calm for Yellow, a fountain of praise, a balance to his swift downswings. Being the gatekeeper of Yellow’s punishments… that certainly wasn’t a role he’d ever entertained.
Yellow blinked in the face of Blue’s confusion, the wind immediately taken out of his sails - his expression dropped, he released Blue’s hands, sat back on his heels.
“Oh, well, you’re right, no. This was a bad idea. I can’t believe I ever thought, even for a second- Please don’t feel like you have to do anything just to make me happy! Gosh, I’m the worst, springin’ this on you like-”
“Yellow!” Blue cried, tone firm. He shuffled around, up on to his knees and grabbed Yellow’s face in one hand, placing his other gently across Yellow’s mouth. The two of them stared at each other, Yellow looking like he was about to cry, Blue more analytical.
Blue’s gaze trailed over Yellow’s face, his watery eyes, the indents in his cheeks where Blue’s fingers were gripping him.
“I’m going to let you go,” Blue said, softly, “and I want us to continue discussing this calmly. Can we do that?”
Yellow nodded, just as much as he was able. Blue released him, settling his hands in his lap.
“Now, I want you to understand that I’m surprise, but I’m not necessarily opposed.”
“Really!? But-”
Blue put a hand to Yellow’s mouth again, cutting him off short and raised an eyebrow. “Be honest with me. Were you about to say something self-depricating?”
A pause as Yellow took a moment to think, then a nod.
“Alright,” Blue continued. “We’ll file that away for later. Right now I have a very important question for you. Just now, you said that me punishing you would make you happy. Did you mean that.”
More nodding, enthusiastic this time, now hesitation. Yellow hooked a hand lightly around Blue’s wrist, gently tugging his hand away from his mouth, adding a, “More than anything! Yes! Yes, I swear! More than anything!”
Blue considered that - Yellow and his punishments as self-flagellation and his misery versus Yellow, now in Blue’s hands, and the punishments a source of relief, perhaps, and happiness.
That in mind - and Yellow’s wet, wide, hopeful eyes before him - Blue gave a resolute nod.
“Alright.”
“Alright!?” Yellow sprang up in his excitement, reached for his hat, likely to throw it in victory, but it was still against the wall, across the room.
Blue laughed a little, nodding again. “Yes, alright. I’ll take charge of you, darling.” He rose gracefully to his feet, stepped over to Yellow and patted him on the head.
Yellow’s eyes slipped closed, and he smiled, melting into a slight slouch, all the easier for Blue to reach him.
“Starting now, I think,” Blue said. His patting stopped and he nabbed Yellow by the earlobe.
“Huh? Now? What’d I do now?” Yellow asked, eyes flown wide, bent over to avoid his ear being pulled too much, but not protesting at all as he was led to the ballet bar.
“My dearest heart,” Blue said, positioning Yellow in front of the bar, “you had the lapse of judgement to think for even a moment that you would have been better off hiding your heart’s desire from me. And what’s more you were going to deride yourself because of it.”
Blue huffed a sigh, placing Yellow’s hands on the bar.
Yellow for his part, was pliant, watching Blue. “That’s bad?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m afraid it is.” Blue stepped behind Yellow, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back until he was bent over at a slight angle. Their eyes met in the mirror lining the wall. “There should be no shame in love.” Blue took a moment in staring at each other, rubbing a tender circle into Yellow’s lower back. He then smiled reassuringly. “But don’t worry. Neither of those things is unforgivable. I was thinking, just a bit of a spanking would do? I think that seems fair, what about you, love?”
Yellow swallowed, a fierce blush encroaching on his face. “Sure, Blue. If you really think that’s enough for someone like me.”
Blue clucked his tongue, shaking his head. “What did I just say?”
“Um!”
Blue reached around Yellow, his front, pressed to Yellow’s back, got up on the points of his ballet shoes and as close to Yellow’s ear as he could. “No self-deprication.”
At the same moment, he unlatched Yellow’s belt, giving it a couple harsh tugs to pull it free, then unbuttoned Yellow’s pants and, stepping back, pulled them down.
Yellow squealed in surprise, his grip on the bar tightening and shifted a bit, nervously, but still made no real move to protest the treatment.
“I think,” Blue said, really starting to have some fun now, “five strikes for each offense. Three offenses, fifteen strikes.”
“Right.” Yellow nodded. “That’s… that’s fair. I,” he licked his lips, then continued, voice going soft and a bit wobbly, “trust your judgement Blue.”
Blue smiled, draped Yellow’s belt over his shoulder, deciding he’d save it for later, and with a tug at Yellow’s underwear, commenced with a, “There’s a good cowboy.”
Blue started off gently, not wanting to accidentally underestimate his own strength as he drew back his hand and swatted it forward for the first hit. Even still, the sound of skin on skin rang through the dance studio and they both gasped, locking startled eyes again in the mirror.
A heartbeat and then Yellow nodded, lowering his head and settling more solidly into position. Blue bit his lip, once again overtaken by that soft, warm feeling in his chest. That particular love that he felt for Yellow, strong and tender and growing.
He reared back again for the second hit, harder this time. Another, another.
Five hits in and Yellow’s left cheek was turning red. He was breathing heavier, a soft whimper at each strike.
Blue swapped sides, delivering another five strikes to his right cheek, evening out the red splotching.
The sound of a hitched breath, a sniffle, then a gasped out sob came from Yellow.
Blue was taken almost complete out of the moment until:
“Thank you.” It was choked out between Yellow’s sobs, followed up immediately by another, “Thank you,” and a desperately whined out, “Blue, please. Make me better.”
Blue took a breath, centering himself back in the moment and retrieved Yellow’s belt from his shoulder. He reared back and, again testing limits, gave an exploratory whack.
The smack of leather on skin and Yellow’s harsh yelp were delicious. Again, again, again, and with the last hit to Yellow’s now visibly bruising bottom, Blue thought to himself: I could really come to love this.
The fifteen strike punishment finished, Blue curled himself around Yellow’s body, trembling as it was with his sobs. He reached forward, uncurling Yellow’s fingers from the ballet bar and shuffled the two of them until he had Yellow turned facing him and the two of them lowered to the floor, letting Yellow use his body like a pillow, their legs intertwining as Blue stroked Yellow’s hair, shushing and rocking him as well as he could while Yellow cried into his chest.
They lay there together until Yellow’s tears dried up, then a while longer still.
Finally, Blue broke the silence. “How do you feel?”
Yellow dug his face more firmly into Blue’s chest, patting around blindly with one of his hands until Blue caught it, their fingers locking together.
“Yellow?” Blue prompted.
“Better,” Yellow mumbled. “I feel… better.”