ooc: I couldn't resist. I hope this is okay, OP! A cross-post to AO3 here http://archiveofourown.org/works/11648253 ---
They’d found him. Half-dead and bleeding out fast on the dry, dead ground outside of the gods-forsaken cavern. Weskham and Regis had rushed to him, while Clarus and Cid covered the pair of them. Potion after potion, elixir after elixir were poured down the kid’s throat and across the scars. The one across his throat, shallow enough to spare his life but only just, worried them all the most.
Flesh knit back together, and it was the audible sigh of relief from King and Steward was enough to inform Clarus of the fact that the little brat was still with them. Clarus was furious. That fury built in the back of his throat, tangy as blood.
Cor’s coughing and spluttering back into consciousness was met with words of relief and frustration, and the pair of men attending to him helping him to his feet and towards the Regalia. Cid took the driver’s seat, Weskham the back-seat with Cor between him and Clarus. Regis urged Cid faster down the road, a quiet lecture flying out of his mouth at Cor.
Cor, who sat there with a dazed expression and sipping water out of the bottle he’d had shoved in his hands. Cor, who didn’t acknowledge any of the comments thrown at him or the lecture that poured out of Regis’ throat. Clarus ground his teeth together hard enough he was surprised they didn’t crack under the force of it.
By time they pulled up to the Haven, Clarus was about ready to punch the teen. Hard enough that he knocked sense into him. That was when an idea struck him, and as soon as the car turned off, Clarus was out of the thing, dragging Cor with him. His grip was unerringly, on the boy’s ear.
“ Ow, fuck!” the little brat snarled, staggering after Clarus with no choice, who slowed not at all to compensate for the still tender and healing teen. If he wanted to act like a brat, he was going to be treated like one.
Clarus shoved him towards the runes of the campsite, roughly and unkindly.
Cor staggered over the runes, turning to glare at the bigger man who hadn’t stopped coming. Clarus grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him towards the center of their little camp. He told himself he didn’t care the way the boy stumbled to keep up with him, or the way he could feel his pulse fluttering under his fingers.
“ The hell, Clarus?!” Cor spat, shoving the hand off of him defiantly.
The Shield didn’t answer and instead grabbed the struggling teen again and hauled him across his lap. It was a thrashing struggle, and one bony elbow nailed the Shield in the gut which made him grunt. It most certainly did nothing to improve his temper.
One forearm pressed down over the teenager’s shoulders, pinning him to one thigh, no matter how he squirmed. If there was benefit to Cor’s youth, it was the fact that he was still short enough that he couldn’t get enough leverage to break the hold and squirm away. If he were any older and Clarus would have had to have been a touch more inventive.
“ Let me go!” Cor snapped, out of breath but no less angry, cheeks stained with a pink, splotchy blush. He glowered at Clarus over his shoulder, brows furrowed and the hint of teeth bared at him. Like he was going to intimidate Clarus out of what he was doing.
“ No.” the Shield growled in turn, “ You’re gonna learn this lesson, and if I can’t beat it through your thick skull, I’m gonna try the other end and see if that makes a difference.”
There was a beat of silence as the meaning of his words sank in, and Cor exploded into a frenzy of movement and swearing again, trying to get away from the coming punishment. Clarus waited him out, counting on his endurance and lack of strain on his own body to see him through the out-burst. Just like a kid, something that the younger boy claimed he wasn’t.
The other three men watched, surprised but not arguing, at the sight that was unfolding. Clarus didn’t care. If Cor wanted to act like a brat he would let him. Then he would make him regret it. He’d told him, they all had, countless times, that he was a member of the ‘Guard. He was as accepted as any of them. A fantastic warrior and friend.
Clarus wasn’t sure if Cor didn’t believe them, or if it was some teenaged, hormone bullshit. Time after time, he’d bristle and spit at anyone who called him ‘kid’ or ‘squirt’, practically got into brawls over it. More often than not he tried to prove he wasn’t ‘too young’ by doing increasingly stupid shit, which include but was not limited to trying to get himself killed.
Clarus had seen Regis throw him one too many potions, seen Weskham stitch him up or check him over for injuries that he could have avoided in the first place. It was a frustrating waste of resources, and the amount of scars the kid was piling up on his body was just fucking ridiculous.
Clarus had had more than his fill of watching it. He was done.
It was easy enough to yank the too-big jeans down the boy’s body, just enough to reveal the kid’s ass to the air. He’d had his ass-whopped bare-bottomed when he’d been a kid, and he didn’t think anything was more effective than knowing that was coming. Cor had gone still and furious under his arm, and Clarus didn’t waste his chance, before the younger man could try and explode out from his grip yet again. Enough was enough, and Clarus was going to make him realize that.
Come Hell or high-water.
The sound of Clarus’ palm striking against the younger man’s rump was strikingly loud in their little camp. Cor jerked under him in surprise at the stinging pain that radiated from the blow. The toes of his shoes dug into the stone under him and Clarus growled lowly.
“ You squirm, I add ten more!” he snapped, “ You’re already looking at more than you want!”
Cor froze again and Clarus rained a series of blows onto the exposed ass of their youngest member. The first few blows, the teen shook and grunted with each blow, and squirmed after the first fifteen. Clarus didn’t stop. The first low noise the boy made, Clarus was relieved. He didn’t want to bruise the kid, but one good swat just wasn’t going to cut it.
“ You run off doing the stupidest things for the stupidest reasons!” he started, “ Throwing yourself into fight after fight, refusing to back down, putting yourself deliberately in danger!” Each point was punctuated with a sharp slap.
Cor squirmed, shifting his weight as he could from foot to foot, like he was trying to flinch away from the blows he knew were going to keep coming. He yelped once or twice, and steadily the cries grew louder, more pained and Clarus got louder. He wasn’t done making his point.
“ You make Regis waste potions and elixirs, Weskham has better things to do than patch you up and you don’t care! You think if you can win one more fight that it’ll make all your dreams come true, that you’ll finally prove you’re a full member of the Crownsguard to us, right?!”
Words or blow, Clarus wasn’t sure what made the first sob break lose out of the teen’s throat. The point was, it did and it was a relief. They were half-way there, as far as he could tell.
“ You like making us watch you get beat all to hell? To have us wake up and find you fucking gone?! Do you have any idea what it was like to know we were probably looking for your corpse, that you were already dead and we were too late?”
Cor sobbed, and shook his head and tears streaking down his cheeks to drop onto the dry, stony ground below him. His breathing was ragged and hitched with every inhale. The sound of his cries were as upsetting as his anger had been and Clarus forced himself to gear up for the final round of strikes against Cor’s already, practically, glowing ass.
“ You scared the shit out of us! If you died because of your damn pride-!” he broke off, gritting his teeth, “ I’d never forgive you for that. I’ve lost enough people to this damn war, to their pride and greed. I won’t watch you die too!” He landed one last blistering blow to the teen’s ass, “ Do. You. Understand?”
It ripped a scream out of him, and Clarus was under no illusions that Cor was not going to be bruised if they didn’t shove a potion down his throat after all of this. He let his hand fall still on the small of Cor’s back, who’s breath was ragged and quiet sobs poured out of him as sure as the tears down his cheeks. For a moment, the Shield felt guilt nip at him. He sighed, and pet a hand over the back of Cor’s head, over brown hair.
“ You’re already Crownsguard Cor, you’re one of the best swordsmen in Lucis,” he stated, “ no Trial, or fight, scar or anything is going to change that.”
“ I-I’m sorry,” Cor managed, voice ragged and raw, tears still wetting his face, “ I didn’t..I didn’t think-“ he broke off again, and Clarus could imagine the way he looked away, shame covering his expression as much as pride and pain.
“ Ya thought you were jus’ some brat we let tag along?” Cid asked, disbelievingly, before he whistled low and unimpressed with a shake of his head, “ Boy, I oughta whoop your ass next for that.” The man had said nothing during the entire spanking, and to be honest, Clarus wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not.
Cor ducked his head, and closed his eyes, hands curled into fists.
It was Weskham who spoke up next, offering him a hand to straighten himself from over Clarus’ lap. Cor took it, tugging his pants all the way back up, gaze firmly on the ground. He grimaced in pain at the fabric pressing against the tender skin of his hind-end.
“ You’ve saved our lives more than once, Cor,” The man noted, not unkindly, “ why in the name of the Six would we not do the same for you, or be angry about your blatant lack of self-preservation?”
Cor looked up in surprise, lips thinning tightly as a thought poured out of his head from years before“ I’m just a kid from the slums, why-“
“ If you ask ‘why’ you’re worth it, “ Regis noted, approaching with a potion in hand and shoving it at the teenager brusquely, “ I’m going to personally put you over Clarus’ knee again for another round. You scared us, Cor,” the Prince continued, placing a hand on the teen’s shoulder, “ we care about you, as much as you care for us.”
Cor flushed at the words, and Clarus sighed with something like fond amusement. It was hard to imagine that they were having to spell it out for the kid, but stranger things had apparently happened. Just as long as he never, ever had to spell it out again. Cor was a smart kid, he picked up on lessons amazingly quickly. He could only hope their prodigy picked up on this one just as quick.
“ You’re our brother, by bond if not blood, and we love you.” Clarus rumbled pointedly from his chair by the fire, “ It’s about time you got that through your thick skull, don’t you think?”
Cor dropped his gaze to the fire, and Clarus was sure that the tears he saw in blue eyes had little to do with the lesson he just learned, and more to do with the wash of emotion between the four of them. Something they’d all never speak of again, knowing them.
“ Yeah,” the teen finally managed, voice thick, “ I guess it is.”
Clarus sighed and leaned his head back to roll his eyes up at the sky, which hung on the verge of sunset and clear free of clouds. The fear of seeing Cor half-dead and thinking he was too late was still very much in his mind’s eye. It’d be a long while before he forgot it.
“ About damn time,” he remarked, however, and it was greeted by laughter and grins.
The laughter of the four of them would be something he remembered for the rest of his life. If Cor remembered nothing else, then maybe he’d remember that he wasn’t alone, would never be alone. Brotherhood wasn’t ended by distance or argument. It was born of love, and nothing could destroy that, as cheesy as it was. It’d have to do.
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timeasmymeasure
Fill [1/1]: Clarus & Cor - non sexual spanking after Gilgamesh
Date: 2017-08-02 07:52 pm (UTC)---
They’d found him. Half-dead and bleeding out fast on the dry, dead ground outside of the gods-forsaken cavern. Weskham and Regis had rushed to him, while Clarus and Cid covered the pair of them. Potion after potion, elixir after elixir were poured down the kid’s throat and across the scars. The one across his throat, shallow enough to spare his life but only just, worried them all the most.
Flesh knit back together, and it was the audible sigh of relief from King and Steward was enough to inform Clarus of the fact that the little brat was still with them. Clarus was furious. That fury built in the back of his throat, tangy as blood.
Cor’s coughing and spluttering back into consciousness was met with words of relief and frustration, and the pair of men attending to him helping him to his feet and towards the Regalia. Cid took the driver’s seat, Weskham the back-seat with Cor between him and Clarus. Regis urged Cid faster down the road, a quiet lecture flying out of his mouth at Cor.
Cor, who sat there with a dazed expression and sipping water out of the bottle he’d had shoved in his hands. Cor, who didn’t acknowledge any of the comments thrown at him or the lecture that poured out of Regis’ throat. Clarus ground his teeth together hard enough he was surprised they didn’t crack under the force of it.
By time they pulled up to the Haven, Clarus was about ready to punch the teen. Hard enough that he knocked sense into him. That was when an idea struck him, and as soon as the car turned off, Clarus was out of the thing, dragging Cor with him. His grip was unerringly, on the boy’s ear.
“ Ow, fuck!” the little brat snarled, staggering after Clarus with no choice, who slowed not at all to compensate for the still tender and healing teen. If he wanted to act like a brat, he was going to be treated like one.
Clarus shoved him towards the runes of the campsite, roughly and unkindly.
Cor staggered over the runes, turning to glare at the bigger man who hadn’t stopped coming. Clarus grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him towards the center of their little camp. He told himself he didn’t care the way the boy stumbled to keep up with him, or the way he could feel his pulse fluttering under his fingers.
“ The hell, Clarus?!” Cor spat, shoving the hand off of him defiantly.
The Shield didn’t answer and instead grabbed the struggling teen again and hauled him across his lap. It was a thrashing struggle, and one bony elbow nailed the Shield in the gut which made him grunt. It most certainly did nothing to improve his temper.
One forearm pressed down over the teenager’s shoulders, pinning him to one thigh, no matter how he squirmed. If there was benefit to Cor’s youth, it was the fact that he was still short enough that he couldn’t get enough leverage to break the hold and squirm away. If he were any older and Clarus would have had to have been a touch more inventive.
“ Let me go!” Cor snapped, out of breath but no less angry, cheeks stained with a pink, splotchy blush. He glowered at Clarus over his shoulder, brows furrowed and the hint of teeth bared at him. Like he was going to intimidate Clarus out of what he was doing.
“ No.” the Shield growled in turn, “ You’re gonna learn this lesson, and if I can’t beat it through your thick skull, I’m gonna try the other end and see if that makes a difference.”
There was a beat of silence as the meaning of his words sank in, and Cor exploded into a frenzy of movement and swearing again, trying to get away from the coming punishment. Clarus waited him out, counting on his endurance and lack of strain on his own body to see him through the out-burst. Just like a kid, something that the younger boy claimed he wasn’t.
The other three men watched, surprised but not arguing, at the sight that was unfolding. Clarus didn’t care. If Cor wanted to act like a brat he would let him. Then he would make him regret it. He’d told him, they all had, countless times, that he was a member of the ‘Guard. He was as accepted as any of them. A fantastic warrior and friend.
Clarus wasn’t sure if Cor didn’t believe them, or if it was some teenaged, hormone bullshit. Time after time, he’d bristle and spit at anyone who called him ‘kid’ or ‘squirt’, practically got into brawls over it. More often than not he tried to prove he wasn’t ‘too young’ by doing increasingly stupid shit, which include but was not limited to trying to get himself killed.
Clarus had seen Regis throw him one too many potions, seen Weskham stitch him up or check him over for injuries that he could have avoided in the first place. It was a frustrating waste of resources, and the amount of scars the kid was piling up on his body was just fucking ridiculous.
Clarus had had more than his fill of watching it. He was done.
It was easy enough to yank the too-big jeans down the boy’s body, just enough to reveal the kid’s ass to the air. He’d had his ass-whopped bare-bottomed when he’d been a kid, and he didn’t think anything was more effective than knowing that was coming. Cor had gone still and furious under his arm, and Clarus didn’t waste his chance, before the younger man could try and explode out from his grip yet again. Enough was enough, and Clarus was going to make him realize that.
Come Hell or high-water.
The sound of Clarus’ palm striking against the younger man’s rump was strikingly loud in their little camp. Cor jerked under him in surprise at the stinging pain that radiated from the blow. The toes of his shoes dug into the stone under him and Clarus growled lowly.
“ You squirm, I add ten more!” he snapped, “ You’re already looking at more than you want!”
Cor froze again and Clarus rained a series of blows onto the exposed ass of their youngest member. The first few blows, the teen shook and grunted with each blow, and squirmed after the first fifteen. Clarus didn’t stop. The first low noise the boy made, Clarus was relieved. He didn’t want to bruise the kid, but one good swat just wasn’t going to cut it.
“ You run off doing the stupidest things for the stupidest reasons!” he started, “ Throwing yourself into fight after fight, refusing to back down, putting yourself deliberately in danger!” Each point was punctuated with a sharp slap.
Cor squirmed, shifting his weight as he could from foot to foot, like he was trying to flinch away from the blows he knew were going to keep coming. He yelped once or twice, and steadily the cries grew louder, more pained and Clarus got louder. He wasn’t done making his point.
“ You make Regis waste potions and elixirs, Weskham has better things to do than patch you up and you don’t care! You think if you can win one more fight that it’ll make all your dreams come true, that you’ll finally prove you’re a full member of the Crownsguard to us, right?!”
Words or blow, Clarus wasn’t sure what made the first sob break lose out of the teen’s throat. The point was, it did and it was a relief. They were half-way there, as far as he could tell.
“ You like making us watch you get beat all to hell? To have us wake up and find you fucking gone?! Do you have any idea what it was like to know we were probably looking for your corpse, that you were already dead and we were too late?”
Cor sobbed, and shook his head and tears streaking down his cheeks to drop onto the dry, stony ground below him. His breathing was ragged and hitched with every inhale. The sound of his cries were as upsetting as his anger had been and Clarus forced himself to gear up for the final round of strikes against Cor’s already, practically, glowing ass.
“ You scared the shit out of us! If you died because of your damn pride-!” he broke off, gritting his teeth, “ I’d never forgive you for that. I’ve lost enough people to this damn war, to their pride and greed. I won’t watch you die too!” He landed one last blistering blow to the teen’s ass, “ Do. You. Understand?”
It ripped a scream out of him, and Clarus was under no illusions that Cor was not going to be bruised if they didn’t shove a potion down his throat after all of this. He let his hand fall still on the small of Cor’s back, who’s breath was ragged and quiet sobs poured out of him as sure as the tears down his cheeks. For a moment, the Shield felt guilt nip at him. He sighed, and pet a hand over the back of Cor’s head, over brown hair.
“ You’re already Crownsguard Cor, you’re one of the best swordsmen in Lucis,” he stated, “ no Trial, or fight, scar or anything is going to change that.”
“ I-I’m sorry,” Cor managed, voice ragged and raw, tears still wetting his face, “ I didn’t..I didn’t think-“ he broke off again, and Clarus could imagine the way he looked away, shame covering his expression as much as pride and pain.
“ Ya thought you were jus’ some brat we let tag along?” Cid asked, disbelievingly, before he whistled low and unimpressed with a shake of his head, “ Boy, I oughta whoop your ass next for that.” The man had said nothing during the entire spanking, and to be honest, Clarus wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not.
Cor ducked his head, and closed his eyes, hands curled into fists.
It was Weskham who spoke up next, offering him a hand to straighten himself from over Clarus’ lap. Cor took it, tugging his pants all the way back up, gaze firmly on the ground. He grimaced in pain at the fabric pressing against the tender skin of his hind-end.
“ You’ve saved our lives more than once, Cor,” The man noted, not unkindly, “ why in the name of the Six would we not do the same for you, or be angry about your blatant lack of self-preservation?”
Cor looked up in surprise, lips thinning tightly as a thought poured out of his head from years before“ I’m just a kid from the slums, why-“
“ If you ask ‘why’ you’re worth it, “ Regis noted, approaching with a potion in hand and shoving it at the teenager brusquely, “ I’m going to personally put you over Clarus’ knee again for another round. You scared us, Cor,” the Prince continued, placing a hand on the teen’s shoulder, “ we care about you, as much as you care for us.”
Cor flushed at the words, and Clarus sighed with something like fond amusement. It was hard to imagine that they were having to spell it out for the kid, but stranger things had apparently happened. Just as long as he never, ever had to spell it out again. Cor was a smart kid, he picked up on lessons amazingly quickly. He could only hope their prodigy picked up on this one just as quick.
“ You’re our brother, by bond if not blood, and we love you.” Clarus rumbled pointedly from his chair by the fire, “ It’s about time you got that through your thick skull, don’t you think?”
Cor dropped his gaze to the fire, and Clarus was sure that the tears he saw in blue eyes had little to do with the lesson he just learned, and more to do with the wash of emotion between the four of them. Something they’d all never speak of again, knowing them.
“ Yeah,” the teen finally managed, voice thick, “ I guess it is.”
Clarus sighed and leaned his head back to roll his eyes up at the sky, which hung on the verge of sunset and clear free of clouds. The fear of seeing Cor half-dead and thinking he was too late was still very much in his mind’s eye. It’d be a long while before he forgot it.
“ About damn time,” he remarked, however, and it was greeted by laughter and grins.
The laughter of the four of them would be something he remembered for the rest of his life. If Cor remembered nothing else, then maybe he’d remember that he wasn’t alone, would never be alone. Brotherhood wasn’t ended by distance or argument. It was born of love, and nothing could destroy that, as cheesy as it was. It’d have to do.