Summary: established dom/sub between Slade and Dick. A hero knows that you can't save them all, yet the guilt and desire to repent remains. Slade is more than willing to help.
One of the first things every hero learned was that you couldn't save them all.
In theory it sounded harsh but it was nothing compared to the reality. Blaming yourself for the deaths of people you couldn't help was torture, especially for someone as emphatic as Dick. The other heroes didn't seem to be able to help him, they claimed that it wasn't his fault and that he needed to move on, or worse made a comment that maybe the job was too much for him and he needed a break. The worst was when the comment was made by his mentor, so he tought himself to stop, to fake a smile and bury the pain deep inside him. Once he perfected the art, they started believe him, even complimenting him on his emotional maturity ... if only they knew how he relieved himself of the guilt, would they change their mind?
Slade had been able to see through his mask and offered help, he understood that the simplest way for the guilt to lessen was to repent, so he punished the failed hero, for the guilt to be suppressed could only lead to grow emotionally numb or to break from the burden.
Which is why he was now naked, kneeling across mercenary's lap with a gag in his mouth. Words never meant enough in this time, how could one apologize for failing to save a life? The older man always seemed to understand him better than anybody including himself could, he trusted him to give him what he needed, a trust which had yet to be proven misplaced.
The first strike came down and he whimpered from the sudden contact, the warm rough hand left a slight flush on his cheek. His upper body was rubbing from the impact across the covered length of the other and he felt it starting to harden. The strikes were hard, leaving his flesh hot and tender, he tried to keep the sounds to himself, to keep his mind in control over his body as Bruce had tought him, but it got harder with every strike he felt a little of his control crumble until he was nothing but a whimpering mess with tears streaming down his face.
Suddenly the pain stopped and he slowly noted that the bulge under had grown bigger and harder, confused he looked towards the villain. The hand on his ass stopped and a finger started to outline the red hand print on his cheek. It was soft almost tender touch which relaxed him as he waited expectantly for the other to give him anything. The legs under him parted and he removed himself from his lap and sunk the floor to kneel between them. One hand stared to pet his hair as the other forced his chin up to make eye contact with the other. The single eye seemed to bore into his soul as if searching for something, finding what he had searched for Slade nodded and released the gag from his mouth. Being judged and declared acceptable filled him a deep sense of gratitude and he smiled up to the man whose thump brushed over his lips, eagerly he parted them, giving the digit a soft lick. The hand moved away and was replaced by the man's hard cock. Greedily he sucked it, wanting to convey his feelings as his tongue twirled around it. The audible erratic breathing and deep moans only fueled his desire as the flesh was trusted deep inside him and the release slide down his throat. Feeling tired he closed his eyes with his chin resting on a small piece of the chair and drifted of while the older male continued to pet his hair.