Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

 

 

 

Fandoms: CSI:NY

Characters: Mac Taylor/Danny Messer, Don Flack/Mac

Rating: 18+

Type: One Shot – Stand alone.

Warnings: BDSM, M/m, M/M (sorta)

Kinks: Bondage, Flogging

Spoilers: Some for season 4 finale (ep 21 – Hostage)

Completed: 21st Jun 2008. 2585 wds.

Disclaimer I don't own the characters or ideas behind CSI:NY, no money has or will be made from this fic.

Summary: Sometimes, being the dominant partner doesn’t mean you’re right.

 

A/N: Written for my Kink Bingo card: Penance/Punishment.

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Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

 

 

 

Danny stood by the window, arms folded over his chest, as he looked decidedly unhappy at his arriving lover.

 

Mac dropped his keys on the side table and sighed heavily a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was still shaken from the last 24 hours, it wasn’t like he’d never been in a hostage situation before but it was the first time he’d been dumb enough to walk straight in with his eyes wide open. More than anything, he hated being taken for a fool. He turned as he slid his suit jacket off and loosened his tie. He looked up from undoing the second cuff of his shirtsleeve and his eyes met stormy blue.

 

“Danny,” he breathed out as he took in the mussed dirty-blond hair, two-day-old stubble and dishevelled clothes. Opening his mouth to say more he found nothing else would come. His boy was looking decidedly pissed off.

 

Earlier there had been relief from everyone. All his colleagues had gone out of their way to show how happy they were he was back with them safe and sound. Danny had held back, a look on his face that was a mix of relief and anger.

 

“Rule number one, Mac!” he said simply.

 

The older man sucked in a deep breath that was heavy in his lungs and pressed on something unmentionable inside. “Look, I know…” he started, only to be cut off.

 

“No, Sir, you don’t. Have you any idea? You made the rules, doesn’t that mean you should follow certain ones too?” the unhappy voice was thick with his New York accent.

 

“Danny…” Mac tried again, and still the words couldn’t form, his hands held out in front of him almost in an attempt to placate or plead for…some thing.

 

“Rule One,” he stated determinedly again.

 

His hand slid through usually perfectly neat black hair as the ex-marine considered how to deal with the current situation.

 

“Say it,” Danny demanded, obviously growing more agitated but finding a core of calm from somewhere.

 

“Never put yourself at undue risk,” Mac repeated his own words softly.

 

The blond nodded sharply in acknowledgment. “What part of letting yourself be isolated in an unmarked car with a crazy SOB carrying a loaded gun fell into that category?” he asked, his voice filled with the same steely determination.

 

It was all that Mac deserved and more from his boy, and maybe he should just take his chastisement. His shoulders dropped as his hands dropped to his sides, defeat written right across his usually so composed posture.

 

“Just because you’re the Dom in this partnership, it don’t make it right for you to put y’self at risk like that.” Mac decided the tone was bordering on desperation now and that Danny needed this to be able to let go of what might have been. “He coulda killed ya and then what?”

 

It was left unsaid what he meant, but Mac Taylor had been this feisty fiery young man’s Dominant for long enough that he knew Danny was scared about being left alone again.

 

“Danny,” his tone soft, soothing, “You’re right, I know.” And in an instant the older man made his decision. “Punish me as you see fit.”

 

He could tell his boy hadn’t been expecting that by the rapid intake of breath. Danny took a couple of steps towards him and then stopped; worry and displeasure battling it out almost visibly in his blue eyes as he tried to process what had been said. He realised he didn’t have a clue what was going through the blond’s head at that turn of events.

 

He wondered just what the other man would do, when all of a sudden a decision seemed to be made and Danny headed for the phone. Mac looked at him in confusion. “Who are you calling?” He almost added, ‘at a time like this?’

 

“Flack. You need reminding of your responsibilities and I reckon he’s just the man t’ do it.”

 

He was stunned, but Mac didn’t argue, his boy was right: this was the way it should be done. It wouldn’t have been fair on either of them to ask Danny to carry out whatever was decided, but another Dominant, that was the order of things.

 

The phone call was brief and to the point. And the next thing his boy was turning away having hung up the phone. “He said we should go over. I’m jus’ gonna grab a few things.”

 

It wasn’t far to Don Flack’s house and when they arrived the tall brunette was waiting for them. He’d changed from his work clothes and was in more comfortable jeans and t-shirt. The serious look on the handsome face was something that was usually reserved for dealing with suspects or even his own boys.

 

Danny’s call had been unexpected, but Don knew it was the best way for the current situation to be handled. In the circles that he moved in, it was the done thing, if another Dom needed punishing then it was done by one of the respected Doms in their circle.

 

“Playroom,” was all the homicide detective said to them as they entered his house.

 

They followed in silence, Danny falling into step behind his lover despite the current situation. He knew that even though his buddy would be handing out the punishment that Flack could be trusted to respect Mac.

 

The frame took the centre stage in Flack’s playroom. The steel structure standing proud and imposing: two vertical uprights that were braced and secured to the floor, and the horizontal bar across the top which was almost ceiling height; attachment points were evenly spaced around the structure enabling the user to bind someone in any number of ways.

 

Flack stopped in front of his colleague and friend and looked at him carefully. Mac didn’t look worried but there was a slight crease to his forehead that spoke of uncertainty and discomfort. For a man who was used to being in control and taking charge in every aspect of his life, this was going to be hard on him. Which was entirely why Don had picked this particular method of punishment. Firstly, it was private between the three of them and his four walls; secondly, it wasn’t about humiliation, but rather removing that control and hopefully breaking through the man’s damned thick skin to show some emotion for his crumbling boy.

 

“Strip off,” Don eventually said after deciding that what he saw in the piercing blue eyes corresponded with his own decisions.

 

He didn’t watch as Mac removed his clothes, instead he pulled Danny aside. His friend seemed so much younger in that moment and despite trying to affect a cool composure he looked far more worried and strained than the man who was about to receive the punishment.

 

“Let him do this,” Don said softly, “be there for him, but let it happen and don’t fight your own feelin’s right?”

 

Danny nodded silently and ran a shaky hand through his hair mussing it even more than usual. Don caught the fretting nervous hand and held it between his. His eyes captured the blue ones that were hidden behind glasses and held the worried gaze. “Trust me to know what I’m doin’, here.” He brought the hand up to his lips and kissed it fondly. He and Danny had never been lovers, they just weren’t compatible in the things they liked but the affection was still strong between them and at times he almost felt like a surrogate Dom to him when Mac wasn’t around.

 

“Yeah,” the blond replied simply, emotion already bubbling behind his too bright eyes.

 

Flack made short work of attaching leather cuffs to Mac’s wrists and ankles before chaining him, tightly spread-eagle, in the centre of the frame. There was no room for a Safeword, this was pure punishment and Don knew enough to be able to tell when they’d reached the crucial point.

 

He’d only ever had to punish another Dominant once before but he’d seen a few public ones in his time. On the outside he looked completely composed and in control, but inside he reminded himself that this was Mac, not just an acquaintance but a close personal friend. He not only had a duty to care for the one he was punishing but also for his boy. He kept all this in mind as he selected three floggers from the rack.

 

The first flogger was a dark red Buffalo-hide flogger with thirty half-inch wide tails. It was a heavy toy that was all thud and very little sting. Although he didn’t know how much it would take to accomplish what he wanted, what he did know was that he would recognise that event when it occurred. Something else he knew was that ‘the beast’, as one of his boys had named it, would drive in deep and fast to that place he needed to reach.

 

He took an experimental swing in the air, causing a swish of noise as the air displaced around it. He met Danny’s eyes and the blond moved so that he was stood in front of his Master, keeping his eyes on his lover’s face.

 

Normally, the sight of Mac’s naked body would be enough to make Danny instantly hard, but not this time. Blue eyes met Danny’s and held a million words, but easiest to recognise was acceptance and understanding; Mac knew this was right for both of them.

 

The next time the flogger swung it landed a blow across Mac’s shoulder blade and he sucked in a breath at the thud of the falls on his skin. Flack wasn’t going to hold back. There’d be no warm up or gradual ease in…and he was grateful for that. It struck him again over the same spot and he winced but didn’t react. As each blow fell he counted silently in his head. It had been a long time since he’d been in this position, nearly twenty years had passed and despite having a high tolerance for most pain, he knew this was different.

 

Mac closed his eyes tight against the heat and pain as each fall of the flogger against his shoulders and ass drove deep into a place he wasn’t sure he wanted to analyse. He gave an anguished cry and then another, on the third everything paused.

 

Danny had watched feeling completely detached, he wasn’t sure that this was even going to work, that it would do what he needed it to do. He’d watched his lover’s eyes close, shutting him out, and he’d wanted to tell him to open them again, wanted to tell him it would be ok. When Mac had finally given voice to the sensation it was all he could do to hold himself back from rushing forward and calling a halt. But, his eyes had met with Flacks, the knowing eyes had looked back at him and pinned him to the spot with their concern and understanding. The silent command to stay made him remain firm even as eyes blinked open in the lull while Don changed floggers.

 

The second flogger was medium weight with forty tails, each one half-inch wide, it was made of dark blue chap suede and was one of Don’s favourites. Equal parts thud and sting, even if it wasn’t as heavy as some – the first included. If the situation had been different then he would have been smiling as he swung it.

 

Mac had expected the next strike to be worse than the last, and it was; but not for the reason he’d thought. It wasn’t as heavy but there was a sting in the tail that made him suck in air, he didn’t cry out and his eyes didn’t close. As each fall of the tails landed, he had to make an effort to keep his emotions in tight. The intensity of the blows increased, thudding against his heated flesh and blossoming into a pain that lingered and melded with the next. The accumulated effect meant that it didn’t take as long as it might have and as he started to cry out in pain once again he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to meet his boy’s eyes.

 

Danny counted each contact, his eyes taking in each minute response and his fingers itched to reach out and offer comfort, voice wanting to forgive and pardon. It was too soon though, even he knew that without looking at Don, and he couldn’t quite make himself meet his friend’s eyes now, forcing himself to document his Master’s reactions.

 

When the bound man’s breath hitched Don knew they were close to the end of phase two. Fingers curled into fists and the muscles twitched under fiery red skin. He landed another three strikes and set the flogger aside.

 

Mac’s fingers didn’t relax and his flesh felt like it was bruised to the bone, the slight sting warming it too.

 

Don’s final choice of floggers was all sting, made of thirty-five cowhide tails, each 3/8ths of an inch wide. It was black with a black and blue braided handle. It wasn’t one of his favourites at all, but he knew it would do what he wanted it to. The first contact told him he had been right in his choices.

 

The leather slashed into his skin and Mac’s eyes flew wide open in shook as the sting sliced through his shoulder and rapidly turned to fire. He cried out as Don exploited the same spot mercilessly and his eyes unintentionally found his boy’s. The look on Danny’s face was pained and his eyes automatically started to close against the gaze. But the next strikes brought tears to his eyes and as the pain started to become almost unbearable. Something inside him clicked into place. Something nameless and immensely more painful than what was happening to his body right then. As Flack found a new spot to expertly abuse, Mac forced himself to open his eyes and face what he’d done to his boy.

 

The shielded blue eyes looked watery and his resistance left him, his own tears breaking free. He’d nearly died, had nearly abandoned his beloved boy who needed him so much. His boy who trusted him to always be there when he needed him, and he’d almost broken that trust by his own foolish actions.

 

Mac cried openly for the first time Danny could ever remember and he couldn’t bring himself to break the spell that was binding their gaze together, not even to look at Don in admiration and thanks. He tracked the progress of tears as they rolled their way silently down his lover’s face. Mac no longer cried out, but wasn’t quite sobbing, the sound hitching to echo each blow that landed.

 

The tails stopped falling, but the tears didn’t.

 

Danny didn’t need telling by his friend that he could go to his Master; his feet were automatically carrying him across the space to him. Hands reaching out to gently cup his face and push away the wetness even as he ignored the tears on his own cheeks. Danny almost apologised but was cut off by Mac.

 

“I’m sorry, Danny…” his voice was quiet but desperate, “it’s never going to happen again… I’m never leaving you, I promise. I love you and you’re mine,” he told him.

 

The blond’s tender touch held love, comfort and forgiveness that nearly broke Mac’s heart all over again.

 

~Fin~

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