Work Text:
"I am not going to give you the-"
The taste of blood filled his mouth as a sharp slap rang out. It took a second for the pain to register, and a second beyond that for him to process what had just happened.
Mike had slapped him. Latvia Mike. The middle iteration. The calm, reasonable one in the face of Mikey and Michael's constant bullshit. That Mike had just slapped him, hard, across the face.
Mikey whimpered, holding his hand over his cheek and mouth. "Mike?" he squeaked, trying to sound even more pathetic than he felt; it wasn't difficult, with Mike glaring at him and his cheek burning. "What-"
"Get on the floor, you dumb fucking brat," Mike snapped, shoving him down with a thump before he could even process the words.
Mike fisted a hand in Mikey's hair, gripping hard enough that he could feel a few strands tear out, and half dragged, half led Mikey to the coffee table, where he was shoved over hard enough for the solid wood to dig into his hips. Then his jeans and boxers were shoved down, leaving him bare and exposed and… Well, it wasn’t Mikey's fault that Mike had pushed the exact right “Mike Walters pain boner” button.
“Huh,” he forced out, brain trying to catch up with the last thirty seconds. “What're you-?”
"I can't fucking believe you!" Mike hissed. He placed a hand on Mikey's bare ass, rubbing at the soft skin almost subconsciously. “You're such a fucking idiot, fuck you. Futurescouting, going through my goddamn house? ”! Almost too gently, Mike smacked him with the palm of his hand.
Oh, god. He wanted this. He needed this, desperately. So many of his good dreams revolved around this; his older iterations caring for him, teaching him how to be better. But-
"Wait!" Mikey cried out. Immediately, Mike froze. "Edgar- He- I haven't asked him if-"
Mike gave him a dirty look. " That's what you think Edgar is going to be pissed at you for? For fulfilling his horniest fucking fantasies, and not, I don't know, risking an absolutely catastrophic degree of propagation?" Slowly, he inhaled, then exhaled, forcing himself to calm down. "Since you're already fucking futurescouting , I'll tell you something that won't put your life in danger; Edgar doesn't fucking care. He's never cared, and he's never going to care, so just stop pretending you don't want to fuck yourself, Mikey."
He stopped, then, in a much warmer tone, said, "I mean- I shouldn't say he doesn't care , because he does care. He likes it . He sees it as halfway between masturbating and having sex with someone else, and, yeah, you’re going to argue about that, but h e thinks it's hot, and he kind of thinks it's cute when I come home after-" he cut himself off with a little shake of his head. "None of that matters. You want this, we both know you do, because you're a disobedient little brat who likes getting the sense smacked into him, and your boyfriend is fine with it, which I know because my husband is fine with it.”
And then, with no further discussion or warning, Mike's hand struck his ass, harder than he would've ever imagined.
His eyes welled with tears. He’d been spanked, of course; even besides Edgar, he had been with plenty of other Doms who enjoyed punishing him. And Mikey, of course, loved it, too.
But something made this hurt more. Whether it was because Mike was genuinely, truly mad, or because Mike lashing out like this was so wildly outside of his previous experiences with someone who always touted himself as a responsible iteration, he didn't know. Maybe it was because Mike knew exactly what would hurt the most. But regardless, it stung .
“ Fuck off,” he snapped, kicking out behind him, but Mike just stood between his legs, keeping himself out of reach of any forceful strikes.
Mike laughed. “Don't even pretend you don't want this, Mikey. I know you do, because I know I would want it. Hell, I did want it. You think I never pissed Michael off, back before I was me? Never did something idiotic like the shit you pulled? Newsflash, Mikey- it takes a lot of discipline to make a ‘responsible’ Mike Walters.”
On the next swat, the backs of Mike's knuckles just barely grazed his balls, sending him jerking and yelping, trying futilely to squeeze his legs shut.
“Stay still, ” Mike hissed, giving him a harder smack on the thigh.
With every strike, he almost felt the defiance being forced from him.
Five, then ten, then fifteen, and, by the time he had broken down enough to beg, he had completely lost count.
“Mike, Mike, I'm sorry,” he whined, squirming as Mike struck his red, bruised ass yet again.
"Don't you ever even think about pulling this shit again, Mikey," Mike hissed, leaning in far enough that Mikey could feel the air as he spoke.
"I won't, I promise , please, Mike, please let me-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Mike wrapped a hand around his dick, stroking roughly as he continued to strike Mikey's ass, sending him bucking forwards in an attempt to escape the pain. Or to seek out the pleasure of Mike's fist. He didn't have the space in his head to figure it out.
"Mike, Mike, Mike-" Mikey whined, whole body tense with the effort of not coming. Mike hadn't told him not to, but… he needed to be good.
"Shh, go on," Mike urged, giving him one last rough spank and a long, tight stroke.
And, with that, Mikey came, biting his hand in a pointless attempt to keep himself quiet.
The second Mike's hands left him, he felt suddenly cold.
“I'm sorry,” he forced out, desperate for the heat of Mike against him. “I'm sorry, Mike, I didn't-”
“No,” Mike insisted, wrapping his arms around Mikey. “You did so good, Mikey. Good boy.” And fuck, that made Mikey want to cry. He was good! Mike had called him good!
Carefully, Mike pulled him upright, guiding him to the soft, comfortable sofa. And, on Mikey's insistence, halfway into Mike's lap.
Eagerly, he nuzzled against Mike’s neck, and Mike laughed, warm and kind and loving as Mikey's beard tickled him.
The hands on him now were so gentle now that Mikey was good . Stroking and petting, soothing the sting of being bad .
A floorboard creaked from behind him, and a startled inhale that was so familiar.
Then Mike laughed again. "You can come out now, Michael- he figured it out already.”
