Slade stared, eye narrowed, searching for any signs of weakness in his opponent. He was growing frustrated with this battle, and he intended to end it soon. At the first sign of fragility, he would attack.

Robin kept up his façade of nonchalance, radiating a sense of ease he didn't feel. This had to end soon. He couldn't keep it up much longer. But he was damned if he was going to lose to Slade again.

The silence was deafening as they faced each other. Robin moved first, a quick motion Slade almost didn't catch. He remained motionless as Robin's hand shot out- and grabbed a spoon.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" Robin asked as he calmly opened a cup of yogurt. "Anything big?"

Across the table, Slade glowered as he replied "You know exactly what my plans are. Taunting me is not very mannerly, Robin. Especially considering your recent decision."

Robin had, out of nowhere, deserted his bed. The boy claimed he simply couldn't sleep with an assassin who was willing to kill the innocent as well as the guilty. Until Slade changed his ways, he was sleeping alone.

Slade had been confident, at first, that it would be easily resolved. Those teenage hormones would kick in and Robin would come to him begging for sex, without him having to cancel his current job- killing some insipid visiting politician as he gave a speech.

That was four days ago, and Slade was now a ticking time bomb.

Robin had rebuffed his every advance, fleeing hastily from any attempt at seduction. And although he completely refused to do anything more than kiss –and barely even that- Robin still paraded around in articles of clothing hardly larger than handkerchiefs.

He almost seemed to delight in flaunting himself, frustrating Slade to no end. Right now, for example, he was wearing no shirt and tiny shorts as he . . . Oh merciful god. Slade's thought processes stuttered to a halt as he focused on what Robin was doing. He wasn't entirely sure what to call that, but "molestation of yogurt" was probably pretty close.

Robin's tongue was flicking lightly across the tip of the spoon, tasting the creamy white substance gathered there. He didn't merely consume the yogurt- he caressed it, sweeping his tongue across the quivering mouthful. He licked slowly, drawing each morsel into his mouth as though it were the most delicious thing on earth, his face expressing ecstasy previously unknown to eaters of yogurt.

A drop fell from the spoon, landing lightly on Robin's naked chest. As he reached for it, he accidently brushed one pink nipple, causing it to harden. He gathered the wayward drop onto his finger, then drew it into his mouth, sucking gently before releasing it.

Slade had a sudden revelation as he watched Robin: The boy was going to give him an aneurysm. The fact that those wanton lips and that soft, caressing tongue were being wasted on a humble spoon was slowly driving him insane.

Robin fought the urge to blush as he did everything but make love to his breakfast. He knew it was ridiculously cheesy, and completely obvious, but he kind of thought it was working. Slade did look awfully tense about something. Deciding to push it just a bit further, Robin stood up.

"I'm going to get some milk. Want any?" His voice held the barest hint of suggestion, and he put a little extra sway in his hips as he walked across the room to the refrigerator.

Slade was on him in an instant, erection pressing against the curve of Robin's ass as he grabbed the boy from behind. "Robin." He moaned as he felt his young lover melt against him. He reached for the clasp of those infuriating shorts, needing Robin naked and gasping beneath him right now- only to have his hand swatted away as Robin slipped out of his embrace.

Robin turned towards him, breathing heavily, his own desire outlined by the tight shorts. His face was flushed with arousal, but his expression was resolute as he looked at Slade. "No. Not until you can agree not to kill people." He turned and continued calmly to the fridge, grabbing the milk and returning to the table with it.

Slade glanced at his own abandoned breakfast, then at Robin, who was once more dipping his spoon into the yogurt. Without a word, he fled.

Robin was rather worried by Slade's sudden departure from the breakfast table. He knew he was being hard on the man, and wondered if Slade had finally gotten angry. Maybe he should go check . . . ?

The sound of a polite cough behind him alerted him to Slade's return. Robin was surprised to find a disgruntled looking Slade thrusting a writing-covered piece of paper into his hands, along with a blue pen.

"Here. You win."

"I . . . what?" It wasn't the most intelligent of questions, but Robin was genuinely confused. He'd won a piece of paper?

Slade sighed. "It's a contract. It states that I will not murder anyone who is not evil or at the very least criminal, except in your defense or my own. In return, you will not withhold sex in an attempt to modify my behavior. Is that satisfactory?"

Robin glanced at the paper. "That's a lot of writing, considering it says so little."

"I wrote it in legal language. I don't trust you to ignore loopholes, should I be foolish enough to leave any."

"I should really read this first . . ."

"Robin," Slade's voice was a sultry purr. "The more time you waste reading, the less time we have to make up for the past few days. Don't you trust me?"

Robin looked doubtful.

"As you wish." Slade allowed a note of wistful longing to enter his voice. "Take your time then. I'll be in the bedroom." He smirked as he left. If he knew his bird at all . . .

Robin scanned the paper after Slade left, complicated phrases scrawling across the page before him. "Slade Wilson, hereafter referred to as Party A, hereby proposes to enter into an agreement with Richard Grayson, hereafter Party B, for the cessation of attacks with fatal intent upon . . ."

Robin was already nodding off. Deciding to trust that Slade had written the contract fairly, he signed his name and raced towards the bedroom.

Slade smiled as he heard Robin coming. The boy couldn't possibly have read the entire contract that quickly- meaning he had no idea what he had just agreed to. Slade very much looked forward to showing him.