Title: Mummy Dearest
Summary: Vaysey's found a reason to have his bath another year early. And Guy gets jealous. Smoulderingly so. Crack!fic, ignores majority of s2 canon
Notes: Implied Vaysey/Allan/Guy. This is totally insane, and dedicated to my wonderful semi-beta, semi-sounding board, semi-coauthor encrypted cookie (see, she's so awesome she's one and a half things. Rock on). And to those evil people who wind me up with Guy/Allan comments. You know who you are. Crack. Spanking. Utter crack. Slash. Did I mention crack?
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.
"This is what you woke me up for? A good looking man such as myself needs his beauty sleep, Gisbourne," the Sheriff mocked as he circled the young man kneeling on the floor before him. It was one of Robin Hood's men – Aaron? Adam? – and he had a sneaking suspicion that something was going on between the young outlaw and his right hand man that he wasn't privy to.
"He's had a change of heart, my lord," Guy replied, arms crossed and leaning against a wall as he usually did, smirking rather sexily. It was cute, in a way, Vaysey thought – a little boy thinking he was older, harder, or like a little puppy wanting to be rewarded for bringing back a stick. He couldn't decide which.
"He wishes to swear loyalty to your cause."
"Does he now?" Vaysey muttered, standing behind the man and leaning over him, sniffing the top of his head. He pulled a face. "I assume he's house trained? There's no point taking in a stray unless it's house trained. I won't put up with him using the dining room as a toilet."
The man continued to stare straight on, putting up no resistance. Vaysey was confused, and slapped the outlaw's head, wiping his hand down his side afterwards – peasant lurgies, not pleasant.
"Is he deaf? Or is he just stupid as well as dirty?"
He circled round and knelt before the man, lifting his chin to get a look at clear blue eyes.
"Do you understand what I am saying?" Vaysey asked slowly, mockingly. He was pleased to see a spark in the eyes – anger, that was always good. "What's. Your. Name. Name? My. Name. Is. Vaysey."
"Allan," was the short, terse reply.
The older man clapped his hands in front of Allan's face, causing him to flinch, then stood up and turned on his heels. He walked to the table slowly and perched on the end, picking up a bunch of grapes and pulling them off one at a time, chewing thoughtfully.
"Tell me, why would one of Robin Hood's merry men want to work for me? Thought a career change might be in order? Thinking of becoming a blacksmith, maybe a cook? I can't say I blame you, what with Outlaw season coming…"
"I was kicked out," Allan muttered, his head turning ever so slightly in Guy's direction before his eyes dropped back to the floor. So that was their little secret. Vaysey had been wondering where Guy had been disappearing to in the night, but to shack up with a filthy little outlaw? What had happened to that serving wench?Probably got her pregnant, he thought, and dismissed it. At least his performance has been better of late.
"I have a proposition for you," Vaysey announced, leaning against the table and smirking, his gapped teeth gleaming yellow in the firelight. "Prove your loyalty to me by sucking my cock."
Allan raised his head, a shocked expression etched into his features, and nearly fell backwards in an attempt to get away from the Sheriff. Guy, however, had taken a step forward with glee upon his face, but quickly realised the offer had been for his present, not himself, and returned to leaning against the wall, hoping no one had noticed his actions.
They had; they just weren't mentioning it.
Vaysey grinned.
"Kidding."
He rolled his eyes as Allan returned to kneeling, this time hugging his chest as though it would protect him from any assault, and chose to tease some more information out of Gisbourne instead.
"He is a very interesting present, Guy; I wouldn't mind some more of these, especially if they came with easy access trousers and a signature hoodie… Does this one keep on going? Or is his stamina lacking? He's not one of those disposable minions, is he? They always break down whenever they have to do anything, and they're a nightmare to clean up after when they've been stabbed."
He shook his head, fiddling with the bird cage hanging next to his second in command. "Bleeding everywhere like that, don't they know blood is a nightmare to get off?"
"He has excellent stamina, my lord," Guy replied, choosing rather wisely to ignore the rest of the comment.
Though he did agree - blood was far worse to get out of leather than wine was, and it smelt bad after a while too.
Vaysey raised an eyebrow.
"Been testing him out, have you? It's not much of a present if you play with the toy before you give it away, now, is it?"
Guy almost spluttered but fortunately saved himself the indignity by biting his lip. He scowled at Allan as Vaysey walked to the doors of the room; how dare he cause Guy to be the butt end of jokes! And he hadn't tested him out in that way (though he did tuck the thought away for the next good looking outlaw he caught - hopefully the Saracen).
Vaysey opened the doors and beckoned a guard to him.
"Fetch one of the wenches and arrange for a large bath to be made."
He looked back into the room at the outlaw, sat on his haunches and face twisted somewhere between confusion and fear.
"And tell her not to be stingy with the poppy this time. God knows we'll need it."
Allan was wishing Robin had killed him.
In the least, it would have saved him the utter indignity of being washed by the Sheriff of Nottingham. Vaysey had dragged both him and Guy upstairs to a separate chamber, adorned by bird cages like many other rooms (Allan was beginning to get slightly scared he'd be caged too) and had nearly scampered back out when he saw the steaming hot lobster pot that the serving girl called a bath. Surely if he stepped in there, like Vaysey was asking (see: commanding), he'd be boiled alive?
This argument hadn't stopped the older man from stripping Allan down (who was now mildly annoyed he didn't wear any undergarments at all - it would have made things more difficult for the old pervert) and bodily shoving the conman into the bath, quickly stripping off and jumping in after him.
Guy was also wishing Robin had killed Allan, but so he could be the one in the bath instead of Allan. He tried to stand in the corner and glower sexily so as to bring Vaysey's attention back to himself, but it worked about as well as blackmailing Marian to marry him had. Instead he settled on glaring angrily at the back of Allan's head and smouldered slowly in his jealousy.
What he didn't realise is that, had he just asked, Vaysey would have probably let him in the bath too. He'd just been too busy trying to get the young outlaw naked and clean so he could have his filthy way- I mean, so he didn't make the castle anymore unhygienic than it already was.
It could never be said the Sheriff wasn't meticulous. Or that he ever told the truth.
Allan was finding this out the hard way, as wandering calloused hands moved steadily downwards towards a place he only wanted one person touching while he remained in the castle, and that was himself.
He hit at the hand, not caring that this man could have him hanging in mere minutes (and he wasn't totally sure he was as adverse to the idea as he had been a few months - hell, even a few days - before); he just wanted to get the hell out of the bath and away from this place. He wasn't even sure why he'd turned up here, and hadn't just gone up to Scarborough or down to London to make a living.
In the moments his mind was drifting in thought, the hand had returned and was stroking a place it oughtn't.
Vaysey grabbed Allan's hand and held it up high, carrying on with his minstrations. He leaned forward and smirked in his ear.
"Now now, dear boy, let Mummy make sure you're nice and clean before you go to bed. You clearly can't look after yourself."
"Mummy?" Allan asked, starting to get very scared and looking at Guy for confirmation of his hearing. The evil grin he got in reply was all the answer he needed.
The Sheriff laughed.
"What can I say? Being the daddy is overrated. Just remember that mummies do everything for their little boys. Would you like that, my boy?"
Guy was getting antsy by this point. This was their game, dammit, and he didn't want a little brother!
Allan was still trying to worm away, even more uncomfortable than before thanks to the hand as deft as its owner's slippery tongue (and Allan wasn't thinking about that tongue in any way, thank you very much), but fortunately for him the Sheriff had decided he was quite clean enough, and that it was time to get out.
He really didn't like smelling of poppies. It made him feel like he truly belonged to the Sheriff of Nottingham, like he was a dog or an ornament.
"Kneel down."
Or a manservant. He was beginning to sympathise with Much, and that was worrying.
"Lift your arms up."
Allan refused - he didn't want to allow the Sheriff more access to his body, and he could bloody well dry himself. He was utterly fed up of being treated like a small child, and was tempted to run out (naked or not) and find Robin to beg his forgiveness, regardless of whether that meant Robin's dagger would end up in his neck or not.
Vaysey stopped trying to go around Allan and sighed. Why couldn't these people ever do it the easy way? It was like his enemies were all suicidal.
Oh well, all the more fun for him.
He put his hands on his hips and adopted a motherly, scolding tone,
"It looks like someone is feeling a bit grumpy. Diddums. I hope you know what ignoring Mummy gets you?"
Allan's eyes widened slightly in fear. Was this going to be his last moments? Was he about to die?
"A hug?"
Idiot! he thought. Why couldn't he learn to keep his mouth closed once in a while?
No, precious boy. It gets you…" Vaysey trailed off, grabbing Allan's wrist and dragging him to lean over the edge of the bathtub. The older man put one hand firmly against the base of Allan's spine to keep him in place - he had a surprising amount of strength, considering he was quite old for the people of his time.
He raised his hand, and his eyes lit up with glee as he finished his sentence.
"It gets you a spanking!"
The sound of flesh on flesh echoed round the room, along with a faint squeal from Allan who really hadn't been expecting the slap. He squirmed, but between the uncomfortable position of half-hanging in the tub and being held down, he couldn't do a lot. He very nearly began kicking like a five year old having a tantrum but decided against it - he didn't want to give them the satisfaction.
Another slap resounded around the room, followed by another, and Guy's stomach dropped a little more with each and every hit. How could Vaysey be doing this to another person? He had thought it was their private little game, and he didn't like sharing his toys - after all, that's why he had never told his master about Allan spying for him, or about the time he and the stable boy had- well, that was neither here nor there, really.
Allan was beginning to howl by this point. Not only was Vaysey slapping him with a regular rhythm and harsh force, but he was also a great aim and was managing to slap the exact handspan of arse with each whack. The burning sensation was almost unbearable, and much to his shame Allan was startingg to realise why so many people used spanking as foreplay.
As tears began to leak from Allan's eyes, Vaysey stopped and turned to look at Guy. He knew the man had been in the room from the start, and felt ever so slightly guilty that he'd ignored him up until this point.
There was a reason he kept Guy around, and it wasn't his brains.
"Oh, come on then. I'll give you a spanking to be fair. I can't play favourites now, can I?" He beckoned Guy over with a finger, before turning to Allan, who was now lying face down on the floor, rubbing his sore arse, and he waved the same finger in a stern manner.
"Don't you move from that spot, young man. I'm not finished with you yet."
Allan groaned.
"Yes, Mum," he mumbled sarcastically, forgetting momentarily that this was exactly what the Sheriff wanted. Vaysey smirked at the young man and patted him on the head before guiding Guy into a proper spanking position.
"Glad to see you're settling in."
With Guy's arse shining like a blood moon, Vaysey smiled. He was a great disciplinarian, if he did say so himself (and there must have been some truth to the statement; no one ever challenged him. Of course, this could have been because all the people who were likely to challenge him were dead or in Robin's gang of thieves).
Unfortunately, it looked like the unruly former outlaw was back in form after his break from spanking, or at least he was able to sit on his behind once more. This was something Vaysey couldn't allow. A lesson was required.
"Boys, go to my room. You're not to leave it without my permission."
"Your room? But-" Allan began, but was silenced by a rather excited Guy (which just served to scare Allan further. Grown men shouldn't look so thrilled).
"Don't talk. Just go."
Both men got up and walked (or, in Guy's case, it was more of a waddle) through the door, across the hallway and into the end room. None of the guards were phased - they were used to this sort of thing by now.
Allan chose this moment to start complaining.
"Can't I have my clothes back? I'm not being funny but it's bloody cold in this castle."
"Shut up," Guy muttered, looking back eagerly into the hall and pacing as though his life depended on it. "You're not going to ruin this for me."
"He's really got you whipped, hasn't he?"
"No, that was Davina. Vayse-"
Guy stopped mid sentence and his eyes went wide. His face split into what Allan felt to be a very evil grin.
Allan turned to look into the hall to see what had caused such a reaction.
Vaysey was walking towards them with chains, a jar of honey and a rather large paddle.
Allan gulped.