A/N: New chapter! This is shorter, I'm afraid, but I have actually gotten an idea for something to happen, and didn't want to leave you with a cliffy this time…. nice huh? Yes, I know, I rule! ;)
Oh, I've just issued a challenge on my Deviant-Art page. It's about doing a satire/parody or crack fic/pic based on one or more of my universes… or my writing-style… or something… It's just a challenge, so there are no prizes, but those joining in will be rewarded somehow… ;)
Only read this through once, cookies for corrections...
2061
All work and no play…
"Alan! Duck!" Robin yelled out and pulled the man to the floor just as the window and the small saltshaker on their table shattered. This told Robin that the man hadn't been aiming for Alan's head after all, which, somehow, made him angrier.
He got to his feet and headed for the door when the city planner grabbed him by the ankle.
"You can't go, there's a crazy murderer out there!"
"I know. And I'm going to have a little chat with him…" Robin growled and pulled himself free.
The shot must have come from the roof of the low building across the road, the teen quickly decided, so he set off. He jumped from a fire hydrant, grabbed a window-ledge on the first floor, swung himself up on that and then jumped again, catching a balcony on the second floor with his fingertips. He soon landed on the roof having made Parkour-experts look like challenged toddlers on monkey-bars.
Slade was still there, calmly buffing out an invisible smudge on the rifle.
"Was that your idea of a joke?" Robin snarled.
"Yes, why aren't you laughing?" the man deadpanned. "I've also come up with this one; 'why did the little bird cross the road?'"
"To kick your ass!" the hero answered and attacked. Slade blocked the fist embarrassingly easy, however.
"I had a slightly different answer in mind… like 'to protect his boyfriend'. Your version was more absurd, though."
"Alan is not my boyfriend! We're not on a date!" the teen yelled.
"Of course not. If that was the case he would be dead."
Robin took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't win over Slade while being this angry. Unfortunately the man was an expert on pissing him off.
"What are you doing here? Spying on me?"
"Yes."
Robin blinked. He hadn't expected an admission.
"Really?"
"Yes. I wanted to see how the meeting was going, and, frankly, it's nice to get out of the office."
The teen just stared at the man. For the first time he noticed that Slade was wearing his own version of Robin's black outfit, making him look like a god. A god of death, perhaps, but still. No matter, the hero quickly locked those kinds of thoughts away, as they would only lead to bad things. Or extremely good things that he would feel bad about afterwards.
"I see. You missed me, you were bored, and you wanted to play."
"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but in general, yes." The man gave Robin an almost boyish grin, which had the teen struggling to rein those dirty thoughts in again.
"I see. Goodbye, Slade," Robin said and turned around.
"Excuse me?"
"Well," the teen said as he stood on the ledge of the roof and looked at the man from over his shoulder. "If it was business, fine; set up a meeting, I'll be there. But I have work to do, so I don't have time to play rooftop-tag with you."
With those words he jumped off, landing on the street via a canopy a few seconds later. He had taken ten steps when his phone rang.
"Yes?" he hissed, still walking away.
"I bet you would like playing if we used my rules," the man claimed.
"Let me guess, if you catch me you get to do me against a chimney, and if I catch you, you get to do me against a chimney?" Robin said dryly.
"Oh, so you know the game?" Slade chuckled.
Robin hung up.
The waitress in the café told him that Alan had already left, asking her to apologize on his behalf, but Robin was actually pleased. He didn't want Slade to shoot the poor man just because he was annoyed.
As he set off across no-man's land he couldn't help but grin a little and shake his head. Slade was really too much sometimes.
Almost three weeks went by.
Slade and Robin had some contact over the phone. Robin tried to keep it cool and professional, but, sometimes, the man managed to lure him into conversations that he hoped wasn't overheard. One of those started when the phone woke Robin up late one night and the first words Slade said was "What are you wearing?".
The clearing and repairing was getting on, slowly but steadily. The Mongrels had organized themselves into four larger groups of about a hundred people in each, who each had an assigned living-area. This made it easier to build temporary but full sized water pipes to each point as well as electricity, so each centre now had thirty showers and twenty washing-machines and dryers, whereas the toilets were spread out throughout each area for easier access. There were also places for washing dishes and preparing food, because the Mongrels were more used to doing these things together in large groups than in the small nuclear-family constellations more common in Robin's time. It all reminded the teen of a large camping-ground, where most commodities were shared.
Still, people were mostly optimistic, although some were a bit vary of all this sudden change, but they did appreciate when Rose and a large medical team, had, in cooperation with AndréGariot, the medical consultant, given the Mongrels health-checks. It was quickly discovered that there was a need for dentists as well, although not as much as Robin had expected. Also asthma and allergies among the Mongrels were almost non-existent.
Small, but important luxuries aside, most of their days were filled with hard work. Robin spent half the day helping to clear rubble, something even young children did, and the other half planning and visiting the different operation-points. Bricks, for example, were taken to one place where a large group of people spent time chiseling the old mortar off so they could be re-used. They were then sorted by type and size and loaded onto pickup-trucks to be taken to an area assigned for building-supplies. It was time-consuming work, but important. They needed to use as much recycled material as possible, because Slade was not freely giving resources away. Divisions of the Mongrels were already shipped out every morning to work on building-sites in the city itself, to pay off the equipment and expertise the man provided. They returned every day with new knowledge, however, so when they did work on their own turf, the assignments were handled faster and with more skill.
Robin watched it all happen with a bubbling sense of pride, but, as he dragged his feet home, exhausted after yet another long day, he couldn't wait for it all to be finished.
He was coming back from a hot shower, his hair still a bit wet, which made him shiver. He still lived in his small basement-room, as he didn't want to take up a whole living-unit all by himself. Privacy was the only luxury he allowed himself, or rather, demanded. John had asked him many times to move in with them, but the teen had turned him down politely. Now, of course, he could pick one of the rooms that stood empty as their occupants had left for the new, modern living-units, but he just hadn't had the time and energy to move his blankets yet. Well, blankets and mattress, because he had gotten a proper one of those to. And a pillow. It was practically the Hilton.
It was getting dark out, so Robin flicked the light on as he entered. Nothing happened. This building was one of the condemned ones, though it was stable enough not to fall down at any moment. Still, though, there was no use fixing the electricity in it, so it worked on a very random basis.
"Great…" the teen muttered and closed his door with a bang. A little bit of light was still coming in from the small gaps in the boarded up window, but he hardly needed it. There was nothing to trip over, after all, since the room was empty.
He pulled his top over his head and stretched his sore back. He didn't dare think about what it would have felt like without the longevity drug.
He pulled his trousers and underwear down as well, fumbling around the foot of the bed for the small stack of clean clothes he had collected, or rather given forcefully by Rebecca a few days ago.
When he couldn't find them at once he sank down on his knees on the mattress, and, with a deep, exasperated and tired sigh he just let himself collapse forward.
Landing right on a warm chest.
Robin made a rather undignified sound as he struggled to get up, but an arm around his waist kept him pretty much in place.
"Are you so eager that you jump on me?"
"Oh, for fucks sake, Slade, you almost gave me a heart attack!" the teen yelled.
"Hmm… seems to beat quite strongly to me… fast, but strong…" the man said, pressing a warm hand against Robin's chest. "You feel a bit cold, though… want me to warm you up?"
"No! Want me to give you a prostate exam with my foot?" the teen growled. He had calmed down a bit now. Slade was, after all, not some unknown psycho rapist, oh no. He knew this psycho rapist very well. This was why he hadn't broken Slade's nose yet, but accepted being held, their naked bodies pressed tightly togeth-
"You're naked?"
"Yes."
"You sneak into my home, get naked, and get into my bed? Why?"
"To save time?"
"Save- what?"
"Well, I'm going to fuck you," the man explained.
"Noooo…. no, you're not. You're going to get the hell out of here and- ah!" Slade had suddenly flipped them over, making Robin wish that he had tried harder to escape while he had been on top, because now he was pretty much screwed. And probably literally too.
"What did you promise me weeks ago, Robin?" the man asked, his warm breath ghosting over Robin's neck.
"Not this, that's for sure!" the teen muttered.
"No, but a list…. remember?"
"OH! Oh, the list! Yeah, I forgot, but it's done! I'll get it, shall I?" the teen said and tried to get up.
"Later. The board has been riding my ass about it… I thought I deserved some compensation of the same kind…"
"You thought wrong," Robin growled.
"Oh, just hush and enjoy it," Slade chuckled.
Robin seethed. He decided to wait for the right opportunity to strike; that was when he could move. Slade was straddling his thighs, making his legs useless, and his hands had somehow ended up by his head, where they were caged in and held by Slade. They weren't grasped hard at all, the man's thumbs were even sliding up and down his wrists, over the pulse-point, making it beat a little harder.
Slade had taken to kissing and nibbling on Robin's throat, making the teen do two things; consider head-butting the man and give a small moan.
"I know what you're doing, you know," the teen said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, you're trying to... t…turn me on."
"Really?"
"Yes. These are your nice-guy sex-moves."
"I didn't know I had those."
"You don't use them a lot."
"Better practice then."
Robin snorted, but his body had started to grasp the idea and rather liked it. It wasn't just what the man did, it was that he did it… that it was Slade kissing the corner of his mouth, or his jaw, his chest, his nipples, trying to make him react, to please him. Even though he was being held down, Robin felt a rush of excitement at being the man's centre of attention.
It was completely dark now, Robin couldn't see a thing, he could only hear and feel and smell, which made it all even more exciting and also more… acceptable. Because if he could have seen the man's face, he might have found a smug expression on it, which would have ruined everything.
The man shifted, kneeling between the teen's legs instead of straddling them, and then settled down again, pushing their bodies together in a very suggestive rhythm. Robin moaned as their cocks slid against each other, partly because it felt good and partly because it wasn't nearly enough. Apart from his length throbbing, there was also a very familiar tingling feeling further down. It was the kind he sometimes felt after waking up from a wet dream, right on the edge of coming, and which more or less forced him to push a couple of fingers into himself, just to come. Nothing else would do. He needed to be filled.
With a soft whimper the teen lifted his hips so that the man's cock was sliding between his cheeks instead. It was already slick with precum, but Slade let one of his arms go for a moment and a slightly cool sensation against the teen's entrance told Robin what that hand was busy with.
There was no talking now, no teasing or mocking. Why taunt someone about being needy when it was so very obvious that they both wanted it just as much?
Having an arm free was an opportunity not to be wasted, although Robin didn't quite use it as he had initially planned. Instead he grabbed the man's neck and pulled him down for a kiss that should teach the former mercenary his place.
Slade ruined it slightly by chuckling, though.
Robin still felt that he ruled the kiss until the man shifted and there was a pressure against his opening, because then he lost his focus a little bit.
He secretly loved being taken like this, with only lube and no stretching. He felt that fingers sometimes ruined the initial, wonderful sensation of being… well… taken. It was not a proud realization, but it was nonetheless true… It was best when Slade was going slowly, like now, however, just putting on a slow, steady pressure until Robin's ring of muscle just gave in, making the teen gasp and clutch the man's back. There was nothing like this feeling in the world. Nothing.
They started to move together in the dark, with only little moans and grunts guiding them through the other one's wishes. Robin weakly wondered what it was about Slade that allowed his presence to push all the teen's other thoughts, worries and goals out of his head. It was not love, because there was nothing rose-tinted about it, it was just that Slade had a way of taking up so much room that nothing else would really fit.
The teen sighed and parted his lips to let the man's persistent tongue in, only to battle it lazily with his own. He should be grateful that the man managed to do this, he suddenly realized, because if he would never be able to put all these other serious things aside, he wasn't sure he would have made it this far without going insane. Slade drew him insane too, but somehow it canceled each other out in the end.
Then Robin started to wonder if Slade felt the same way.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Slade and Robin's relationship is very hot/cold, on again/off again, and with this chapter I tried to explain a bit about WHY this is. I'm not sure I succeeded, and if you don't want to dig deeper into this story, just ignore it and, hopefully, enjoy all the ups and downs on a simple, smexy level instead… ;)
I'll update a Delightful drabble on Sunday, and I'm not sure I'll have time to update anything before then, because tomorrow work starts again, and it will be a busy week, but we'll see…
