Chapter Summary: After the rebellion, Gale Hawthorne works under the commander of District 2. (Harry/Gale, The Hunger Games)

AN: Contains disciplinary spanking.

"Hawthorne, Commander Potter wants you in his office!"

Gale glared at the messenger and the younger man turned and fled. He looked out through his office window, still lowkey bewildered about having an office, and then padded out through his door. The evening outside looked warm enough, the street lights lit to produce just enough light to see by.

People idly passed by, glanced his way, nodded at him, and walked on by, whispering about his black eye. He mostly ignored the looks, ignored the whispers, and walked down the hall, dropping his hands into his pockets.

Some people had since gone home, following their Commander's orders to not overwork themselves. It'd just been three months since Paylor had taken office as President as Panem and everyone was still slowly settling into the new routines. Into the new everything. No Games around the corner and no war and… Gale grimaced and stared at a few of the men and women who had worked in the Capitol before it had fallen.

Anger roiled in his chest and stomach, heating him up, and making his pulse speed up.

As he took a right at the end of the hall, he peered over at the last door on the left, seeing the plaque on the side of it. Commander Potter. Gale grit his teeth at the sight and then closed the distance, sweeping through the door and pausing at the Commander's secretary's desk.

The woman at the desk waved him through, did a double take at the black eye on his face, and then turned back to her work.

Gale refused to grimace and strode through the open double doors in front of him. District 2 had been wealthier than District 12, had been so hard to take, and Commander Potter had been a key player in the rebellion, working well with Commander Paylor and Katniss.

The man in question sat behind his desk, his black hair brushed out as well as it could be. The familiar scar on his forehead didn't draw Gale's attention as much as it used to. The first time Gale had seen Potter had been when he had asked for a job, seeing the new Commander in talks with President Paylor. Gale hadn't even noticed the scar the first time, instead so full of fire and hate.

The Commander hadn't even paid attention to him after glancing at him for a minute, maybe two, before turning back to Paylor. The Commander was probably three years older than Gale, with a thin layer of facial hair covering his skin, the result of not shaving for a day or two.

Commander Potter sat at his desk quietly, seemingly ignoring Gale for another moment before looking up with an unimpressed look. Potter frowned at him, faint disappointment in his bright green eyes.

"Hawthorne."

"Commander."

"Close the door."

Gale shrugged and did as told before standing neatly in front of the Commander.

Potter continued to look him over, the corner of his mouth turning up in a frown. "I see you have yet to talk to someone."

"I don't need to," Gale retorted, standing at attention but keeping his hands in his pockets. He didn't particularly want the Commander to see his fingers curl into fists.

"I beg to differ," Potter offered, finally standing up and showing off the dark green shirt covering his chest and pants that covered his legs and hips. Combat boots curled around the Commander's feet and Gale kept his gaze on them as Potter took a step around his desk only to prop his hip against the desk.

"I'm fine, Commander. I don't need to talk to a freaking therapist."

Potter arched an eyebrow before pinching the bridge of his nose. "That black eye of yours says differently."

Gale crossed his arms and mostly restrained himself from brushing a finger over the bruise. "Look, I'm not here to talk about my behavior. What the fuck did you need me for anyway?"

"I called you here precisely to talk about your behavior," Potter remarked, staring at him idly. "Your colleagues have mentioned you frequently showing up with bruises."

Gale swore under his breath. "There's nothing wrong with me!"

Potter continued to stare at him with a dubious frown, very obviously calling bullshit. "Hawthorne, you and I both know you went through some shit. We all did. You were taken by Snow's peacekeepers. I don't know what they did but I can guess. You saw your district get bombed and burned to ash. You were brutally whipped several months ago for 'insubordination'. Those might have healed physically but we all know trauma doesn't just leave physical scars."

Gale's jaw clenched even as he felt sweat drip down his back and he turned, halfway to fleeing when Potter called him back.

"If you're not going to do anything about that anger of yours," Potter started, something very much like steel in his voice. "Then I'm going to."

Potter slid off the desk and stepped to the right of it, jerking a thumb down. "Come over here and put your hands on the desk."

Gale froze, his heart galloping in his chest at the words, heated embarrassment flooding him. "What."

"You heard me. It's either this or I bench you for two weeks."

When he craned his neck around to look at Potter again, there was just patience in those green eyes. Expectant patience. Like he would wait for Gale to make up his mind but up to a point.

Gale stood there shock still for a moment, his heart pounding in his ears, before he mechanically closed the distance between the door and the desk. Humiliation spread like wildfire up his skin, making his cheeks heat up. He met Potter's eyes as he laid his palms down on the man's desk, shaking a little bit, but willing enough. Maybe if he got through whatever punishment Potter deemed acceptable, he'd be able to skate through any other talk of needing to talk to someone.

"Good. Now take off your pants."

Gale's shoulders went still with tension before he slowly unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor around his boots. He laid his hands on the desk again, noting the various pieces of parchment that cluttered the desk. Important government papers that Potter had had to read through, sign off on, all stamped with the symbol for District 2.

He felt more than heard Potter come up behind him. Gale jumped at the touch of light fingers on the small of his back, tracing circles through his shirt. Goosebumps rolled up his arms as Potter leaned over him, his breath hot against Gale's neck.

"Good boy," Potter whispered, his fingers trailing downward, tracing over his boxers to push them down too, spreading his fingers wide over bare skin. Gale shivered as cool air fluttered over his skin, the room temperature somewhere between comfortably warm and on the edge of being chilly. Not warm enough to fade off to sleep.

Heat flooded the tips of his ears and he could feel how red his cheeks were. His heart raced in his chest at the thought of how he must look, bent over the desk, half naked. His dick jerked at the thought and he swallowed. Potter had sounded like they were just discussing the weather, like this was just another day at work, voice steady. A curl of anger erupted and made him loud. Potter was just treating this like this was no problem. Like he had just skirted through the rebellion with minor consequences.

"You gonna spank me like a child?" Gale retorted, heat and embarrassment and anger making his voice rough.

"If you behave like one," Potter offered, keeping his voice quiet, his fingers still tracing his ass, curling around his hip. "I mentioned before that this behavior would be unacceptable."

The first blow was loud and the thump filled the air, making Gale yelp more out of surprise. It forced a startled breath out of his lungs, his entire body holding still for a moment, his body freezing up. Potter hadn't reached for any tool or implement; it had just been his hand on his ass. Nowhere near his back and the mostly healed marks on it. His skin still ached from the marks even now and every time he twisted his back in one movement or another, white hot pain shot up his nerves. But Potter's hand was sticking to his ass and the blow didn't hurt. Or it did but not in that way.

"Are we good now?" Gale asked, irritation curling in his stomach, in his chest. "I only ask-"

The second blow landed without any warning like the first, the sting of it sharp, heat rippling outward from it. Gale shuddered and he raised his head, to look behind him, only for a hand to slide up his back, pressing down on his shoulder blades.

"Stay still," Potter reproached, voice still steady, an edge of something in it that Gale couldn't decipher. "You'll know when I'm satisfied."

He laid his elbows down on the desk and rested his head on them, hearing Potter pause before the weight of the hand on his back lifted a little bit.

The next couple of blows landed without ceremony, slightly harder, the sting of them radiating up Gale's back and all the way down to his feet. The sting of them rippled through his body, lighting up his nerves and throwing everything into high gear. Potter's hand did not linger between, no trailing touch, no curling into his hips, just smooth skin hitting flesh. Gale tried to hold in the shiver as Potter dealt another blow, half wanting to move away from the blows and half… His fingers clenched and dug into the desk beneath him, making him shudder.

His legs were effectively hobbled, kept together by his pants and boxers, his legs and ass bare and exposed. He knew from this angle that… Potter could see him, see his cock hanging limply between his legs but… Another blow and his thoughts spiraled, making him focus on the heat and sting of it, fidgeting a little, his breath hitching.

The hand on his back smoothed circles over his skin, tracing gentle designs into his back. Almost comforting for a single moment and it made Gale heat up, though maybe not…

He could feel sweat trickling down his back, down his ass. A sound left his throat as Potter struck another blow and Gale tried his damnedest to not think about how he wanted to arch into those fingers or lean into the warmth of the blows. This was nothing but discipline though and Potter's hand did not linger after each one.

Gale let his head rest on his arms, bent over the desk, bare from the waist down, and remained still as each blow landed. Sweat dripped down his forehead and back, making his shirt stick to his skin. He wanted to shake and shudder with each blow though, wanted to ride it out and… yet.

His dick throbbed with each movement and he tried to bend down closer to the cool metal of the desk, hoping to hide it. A small sound escaped his throat and he clenched his teeth, hoping to stop any more noises from coming out. The Capital wasn't going to-

"Hawthorne. President Snow's dead," Potter whispered, pausing for a minute, brushing his fingers against Gale's warm neck. "Snow's dead and the Hunger Games are over."

Gale grunted but refused to unclench his teeth, his body.

"You're a smart man. That brain of yours is so quick to design things," Potter continued, keeping his voice to a murmur. "I've seen what you can do and heard what you can do and yet… You keep getting into fights and are so quick to anger."

"Commander-" Gale gritted out, refusing to let himself sink into the fingers that were so close to cupping his neck.

"This needs to stop," Potter interrupted. "You need to stop getting into fights and getting yourself hurt."

"But… I… Fuck. I just want revenge!"

Silence echoed in the room and Gale's throat closed up in shame, as he tried to swallow back tears. "The Capital took so much from us and we're just fucking working with the people who did all that shit!"

The hand at his neck stroked over his hot skin before Potter curled his fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

"Not everything's black and white, Hawthorne," Potter murmured, his voice rough now. "It's not healthy, what you're doing right now. You know it's not healthy, I hope."

Gale let out a sob, stricken at the noise that left his throat. "I made the bomb that killed Katniss' sister! That killed-"

Potter was quiet for a moment before he shushed him. "Hawthorne… Did you give the order to bomb the square?"

Gale whined at the words, shaking on the spot. "No. I didn't. I just… I just."

"Coin gave that order. You're not responsible for that. She used you and your designs. She used the whole damn rebellion to take control. Or at least in an attempt to take control. Your friend put an end to that idea."

"But-"

"But nothing, Gale. It's not your fault."

Gale swallowed against the remembered helplessness that swelled at those words. Katniss' anger towards him afterwards and her indifference. A sob tore itself from his throat and Potter murmured quietly.

"Good." Potter didn't move for a minute before withdrawing his fingers from Gale's neck, brushing them down his shoulder blades in an almost comforting manner. It drew ripples of goosebumps down his skin and every inch of him was almost hyperaware, his mind slowing down, listening to the Commander moving behind him. His body felt like it was on fire, his nerves lit up, the desire to lean into those fingers filling him up, to rut against that hot body behind him.

The next blow hit on the back of his thighs, hot and harsh. He let out a cry as electric heat spread up his chest, knowing now that Potter could see that he was hard between his legs. Hard and leaking and he wanted more. The second blow made his knees buckle and Potter's hand on his back was the only thing keeping him upright. The man had closed the distance between them, his heat slithering into Gale even through their clothes.

Potter froze behind him and now Gale could feel the heat of Potter's hard cock against his legs. The man hadn't been as unaffected as Gale had thought he'd been and the mental image of himself flashed through him. Bent over the commander's desk, half naked, his cock hard between his legs. Red skin instead of pale, marks left on his ass. He whimpered at the thought, as even more heat flooded him, making it hard to breathe.

"Please."

Potter swore under his breath, his fingers idly drawing circles into Gale's skin. "Hawthorne."

Gale shuddered at Potter's rough voice and leaned into the man behind him.

"Fuck." Potter stood apart from him, before withdrawing one of his hands, and Gale heard the sound of rustling fabric. Potter swept an arm out in front of them, making papers fly off the desk, and then shoved Gale up onto the desk. "Stay."

Gale shuddered and squirmed, shuffling in place, before being forcefully quelled by a hand coming to rest on the small of his back. His face was now lying against the desk entirely as Potter smoothed a finger over his ass, coming close to his hole. Ripples of heat flooded him and his entire world dwindled to that finger that was now circling the rim of muscle.

"You really want this?" Potter asked, his voice hoarse with desire.

"Yes. Please."

Potter stopped all of his movements before shoving a wet finger into him. Gale yelled out at the intrusion, shuddering as he was opened up, feeling his muscles flex and clench. His breathing hitched and caught as Potter slipped in another, stretching him out quickly. All he could see now was the other edge of the desk and the window that sat at eye level across from him. He blushed at the prospect of being seen, of someone walking out of the building or by it and turning to see him out of the corner of his eyes. Blushed even redder at that thought.

"You look utterly delicious here," Potter murmured, his voice low and rough, as he shuffled behind him, withdrawing his fingers. Gale whined and arched his back, feeling Potter slide his fingers over his hips, holding him in place before thrusting right into him. Sweat dripped down his back and down his ass before he moaned, reaching out to clutch at the desk even tighter.

Potter fucked into him fast and hard, not taking any time to ease him into it.

Harry sucked in a breath as he bottomed out inside of Gale's ass, his eyes fixed on the spot where the other man had taken him in. He dug his fingers into Gale's hips, slipping underneath his military uniform. Gale was hot and warm and sweaty, his shirt sticking to his back.

His relatively new captain was underneath him, all splayed out for him. Hot and wet and wanting. Gale's cock was trapped between the desk and him and Harry's heart thundered in his chest at the sight. The marks that he'd left on Gale's skin just a few minutes ago were still red, still in the shape of a palm. His palm and that made him let out a strangled groan, feeling Gale squirm under him.

He had lowered the desk just a little bit with magic, lowering the top of it so that he could have access to that pretty ass. His feet were still planted on the floor, firm, unlike Gale's, as he pushed the man's thighs further apart. And started to move again, dragging his cock out of that hole inch by inch, reveling in the wet warmth, in the squelch that echoed in the air.

The stench of sex hit his nose and he smirked, smelling come and sweat. Gale was tight around him and he wondered if he was the man's first. He pulled out entirely before just sliding in the tip of his cock, teasing, and pulling out a whine from Gale. He wondered what the man's face looked like now, bright red with embarrassment maybe?

Heat curled underneath his ribs, familiar possessive instinct stirring inside him at the thought of other people getting this. Harry leaned down over Gale's back, pushing up Gale's shirt, and pressing into him, breathing right over Gale's bare neck.

Gale shuddered under him, shivering, goosebumps rolling up his back and neck. His blush made it all the way to the tips of his ears and Harry smiled before pushing all the way back in, forcing a yell from Gale.

"You gonna come for me, Hawthorne?" Harry questioned, thrusting in and hitting his captain's prostate, judging by the way Gale's muscles clenched around him. His back muscles went taut with pleasure and Harry's smile turned into more of a pleased smirk, as he saw Gale's cock leak with pre-come. "Untouched. You were aroused by what I did. By me taking my hand to your ass."

Gale spluttered and Harry rolled his hips into Gale's ass, forcing himself deeper, fucking into him fully.

"Fuck off."

"No, I don't think I will," Harry murmured, reaching up to grab one of Gale's hands, uncurling his white knuckled fingers from the desk and pulling his hand down. "I like you like this. And you like it too, if your moaning is anything… to go by."

Gale dug his fingers into Harry's, clawing at him, dragging him in.

"Your hole is so wet for me, isn't it?" Harry questioned, closing his eyes against lust before reopening them. "Taking me in like a good boy."

He reached down to lick a sharp line of heat up Gale's neck, sucking a bruise into the crook of his skin. He didn't pretend to be quiet, knew everyone else was out of the office already. But Gale didn't. Harry groaned as Gale whined loudly, his voice loud, rippling through the air, like an admission.

Gale's hips jerked as Harry bit a mark into his skin, at the base of his neck, fucking into him hotter and faster with each minute. His breathing grew shakier as he shoved into the man, hitting that little bundle of nerves each time. It didn't take long for Harry to hit that point, hurtling towards his own release, the sight of Gale Hawthorne open and bare to him undoing him.

He spilled into that hole, his cock pulsing, come flooding out and painting Gale's ass. Harry caught his breath as his toes curled, his body flooded with pleasure, warming him up more. Gale was still moving underneath him, his breath hitching, his balls dragged up close, wanting to come, wanting to but…

Harry reached down, not slipping out of the man's arse, and slid his fingers around Gale's cock.

"No more fights," Harry remarked, breathing heavily, panting, hearing Gale do the same. "Am I clear?"

Gale moaned and tried to rut against the desk, against Harry's desk, rolling his hips in jerky, unconscious movements. Harry pinned him down again, with a hand to the small of his back.

"Am I clear, Gale?" Harry questioned, squeezing Gale's cock in his fingers, hearing the punched out noise that left Gale's throat. "You want anything and you come to me."

"Yes! Yes, just…"

Harry pumped his fingers over Gale's cock, twisting over the head of the skin, over the hot, red skin and watched as the man came. Spilling over his fingers fast and wet, come splattering the floor. Harry grunted as Gale's muscles clenched around his own cock, having not slipped out of him.

He stepped back and slid out of that hot skin, plugging Gale up with a few of his fingers wistfully.

Gale lay there, panting, sweaty, on top of his desk, his limbs shaky.

"Good boy."