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by Izzy~
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Friendship · #2139280
Why is Gus coming home late?
Pacing the living room floor of the house he shared with his best friend, Hank, and his rookie, Gus, Niklas was getting worried. He could not imagine what had happened to Gus or where he'd be at 3:40 in the morning. It was rule of the team that all rookies had to be back home by now later than 12:30 (if traffic and time allowed it of course) and to call them if something happened. Gus hadn't answered either of their phone calls nor, obviously, was he home.

Just as he was about to head up to check on Hank, who had back surgery just the week before, Niklas's ears caught wind of the front door creaking open. Flickering his eyes upward, he found himself gazing at a flushed face, glazed-eyed, stumbling-while-he-walked Gus. What in the world had happened to him?


Gus squeaked at the sound of his name being yelled and, leaning on the door to keep himself from falling over, looked over at his mentor and blushed a bright pink.

“Yes, Kronner?”

Niklas pursed his lips and walked over to Gus. He gently moved the rookie away from the door and kept a firm grip on him, lest Gus fall to the floor and hurt himself.

“We're going to have a talk with Hank. We were both worried sick about you!”

Gus whimpered softly but didn't argue the matter. Instead, he scampered up the stairs as best he could with Niklas behind him in case he fell.

When Niklas pushed open the door to the room Hank slept in, Gus hesitated at first, not sure if it was a good idea to distrub Hank, but the sharp glare Niklas gave him was enough to convince him otherwise. He shook his head to clear it and ducked under Niklas's arm into the room before Niklas closed the door behind him.


The figure laying on the bed groaned and opened one sleepy brown eye.

“Krons? It's 3:55 in the morning. What do you want from me this early?”

Niklas pushed Gus forward with a palm in-between his shoulder blades and arched an eyebrow.

“Guess who arrived at 3:40 in the morning, drunk?”

At the word “drunk” both of Hank's eyes opened wide and he glanced between Gus and Niklas for a moment, clearly in shock.

“Drunk? Gus? He never does that! What makes you so sure that he is drunk?”

“He was stumbling around when he came in and his eyes were glazed over.”

Hank let out a drawn-out loud sigh and gestured for Niklas to leave the room.

“I need to talk to Gus alone.”

Gus bit nervously down on his lip as Niklas left the room and was left alone to face Hank's wrath. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else in this world, it was disappointing Hank or making Hank angry at him. Hank was not only his idol, but his mentor and captain as well.

“Gustav, come here, please.”

Swallowing so loud Hank could probably hear it, Gus shuffled his way to his mentor's side, stumbling a few times as he did so. He took up a seat in the chair next to Hank's bed and stared at the floor, unable to look Hank in the eyes. He knew the look those eyes would hold: he'd seen it several times before.

“I'm very disapointed in you, Gustav. You know the laws of this country and you know my rules. I have told you time and time again not to go out and drink because you are underage and yet you did it anyway. I've also told you not to come home late because not only does that worry me and Niklas, but also because you need your sleep for practice the next day. And again, you disobyed my rules. I want to know, right here, right now, why you disobeyed me. Tell me.”

Gus sniffled and finally flickered his eyes up to meet the gaze of his mentor, who, as he expected, looked like a father who's son had gotten in trouble and was trying to figure out the best way to punish him.

“I-I guess I just wanted to try it, sir. I wanted to know what it was like to be drunk. I'm sorry.” Gus sniffled again and rubbed at his wet eyes.

Hank pursed his lips and tapped on his leg with his fingers. He was shocked that this was the reason why Gus had drank. It was one of the dumbest reasons he'd ever heard of why someone wanted to get drunk. Gus wasn't stupid, he knew that, but what he did was.

“I'll give you the choice of your punishment, Gustav. You can either sit one game or be spanked. It's up to you.”

“Spanking, sir”, Gus quickly replied. As much as he hated being spanked, it was better than sitting out a game, at least in his mind.

Hank nodded and shifted his position on the bed, wincing as he did so. Damn his back!


Slipping through the door, Niklas, who'd been outside listening to the entire conversation and also thought that Gus's reasoning for drinking was a dumb idea, walked over to the bed and patted it.

“Over the bed, Gustav, and pull down your pants and underwear.”

Shaking out of fear of the pain more than anything else, Gus obeyed and buried his face in the comforter, antisapating that first swat.

He sucked in his breath as Niklas's hand smacked against his backside and let out a tiny yelp. Wasn't being spanked the worst?

As the slaps continued to fall, he turned from gasping to whimpering and eventually to crying. It hurt!

“I-I'm s-sorry!”

Upon hearing those words, Niklas's hand fell still at his side and Hank's tongue clucked. They both knew what it was liked to be spanked and they both hated spanking their rookies.

“Alright, Gussie. You're forgiven, okay,” Hank said softly as Niklas pulled up Gus's clothing.

Gus sniffled, looking so miserable, as Niklas hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek, but he nodded at his captain's words.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Hank patted the bed next to him and gave Gus a fatherly look.

“Come lay with me for a while, Gussie. You need to calm down.”

Gus rose up from his bent-over position and hobbled over to the other side of the bed. He crawled up onto it and rolled over until he reached Hank's side, being careful not to run into Hank's injured back. Then, he gently nuzzled into Hank's side and rubbed his red eyes.

Hank pet a hand through Gus's red, tangled, thick hair and hummed to soothe him.

“You're a good boy, Gussie, but you do stupid things sometimes. We all do, even me and Kronner. We don't spank you because we hate you or want to see you in pain, we spank you because we love and care about you. We want you to grow into a good player but more importantly, a good person. Got it?”

Gus smiled, content as a sleeping puppy, and leaned up to press a soft kiss to Hank's cheek.

“Yes, Captain.”
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