Pep Talk

A/N: Enjoy the smut while you can – things get cranky at the end.

Robin was not the least bit surprised to find that Slade was gone when he awoke to the dim light of day, nor was he surprised that he had to peel the sheets off his ass as he stood. He shrugged as he let the cloth fall back to the bed, stretched, and gave a small ironic smile at the ache that ran through him. He loved the feeling of waking up after a good round – but more often than not, he still craved the sensation of being filled. Of being alive. Perhaps he was supposed to have felt guilty about it. Perhaps he did. His mind wandered back to his post-coitus breakdown and he rolled his eyes in spite of himself.

"Nothing like sobbing after sex," he muttered as he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and moved to the broken window. "That's not awkward. Not awkward at all."

The rain had continued through the night and showed little sign of stopping as the Robin pulled back the plastic covering they had taped over the window. He dared a small glance at the dead below and frowned. Was the whole damn city outside their building? More had probably been drawn by the sound of the explosion they'd used to create a tunnel into the apartment. He shrugged again, wetting the cloth in the rain and giving his body a quick, thorough scrub.

The dead didn't really matter to him. Slade would make it out alive if he was lucky, but Robin was doomed, and he knew that. He gave a small smirk to the mirror as he grabbed the lotion from the floor and sauntered to the front of the apartment. At least he could make the most of his time left.

"Wow," the hero stopped mid-saunter as he surveyed the kitchen and living room. "Been busy?"

Slade, sitting cross-legged over a pile of various materials in the living room, flashed a small grin that almost made the teen step back. Spending time with Slade – not to mention fucking him – had helped the teen acquaint himself to the more human sides of the villain, but some things, like the slight pride in his anticipation to show his project to the teen, was simply weird. It was the sheer lack of arrogance in it that threw the hero, that fact that the man was clearly enjoying his work the extent that his smile was genuine and excited... Wasn't Slade always an egotistical son-of-a bitch? Robin wondered. Or maybe it was only when his plans were in motion that the excitement dissolved into smugness. Or maybe he was still just thrilled to not be on the rooftop.

"What?" the man asked, reading the teen's apprehension and all at once returning to his usual hard-faced expression.

"Nothing," the teen dismissed his thoughts quickly and looked over the 'supplies' the man had gathered and meticulously organized into piles that were aligned by rows and columns. "What is all this?"

"I'm making armor," The man let him know. "We're off to a good start, but we'll need more from the other apartments. More metals, ceramics, glue… I would kill a man for duct tape about now."

"Need a break?" Robin plopped down on the sofa and gave his best come-hither look that was quickly replaced by a startled expression at the sound that emanated from the hallway. Whatever was on the other side of the door had friends, and they were moving. "Jesus…"

"Yes. There are more of them today," Slade let him know calmly, moving his finger in a way that indicated he was counting something among the supplies. "I'll take care of it when I go out."

"You're going to open the door?" Robin asked incredulously.

"Of course not," the man scoffed. "I'm going to use the rope to climb to other windows. We just have to wait for a break in the weather."

"Might be awhile from the look of things," the teen nuzzled back into the couch and peered out into the rainy sky.

"I've got enough material to keep myself busy for the time being," Slade shook his head dismissively and grabbed one of the dinner plates and the pizza cutter.

Robin watched with mild fascination as he slowly worked a groove into the surface of the plate, slid it between a hardbound book cover that had the contents hollowed out, and then used pliers to slowly apply pressure until the plate cracked perfectly along the line.

"This is fascinating and all," Robin sighed, standing from the couch, "but I can think of at least three different things I'd rather be doing right now."

"You want to make yourself useful?" Slade asked, not raising his head from his work but throwing a wooden ruler to the teen. "I need your measurements."

"I don't need armor," Robin said very plainly, walking in between the man and his work.

"I don't need distractions," the man replied bluntly, reaching between the hero's legs for the pizza cutter and smirking when the wooden ruler smacked his hand.

"Go ahead, then," Robin smirked, straddling the man's lap and pulling him into a deep kiss that he didn't seem to mind.

"I'm working," Slade murmured into a mouthful of hero, his hands slowly abandoning his project.

"You're hard," Robin tilted his hips invitingly.

"Brat," the man wrapped his hand around the teen's arousal.

"Fucker," he purred back between kisses.

"Invitation?" Slade felt his length teasing against the hero's behind.

"Obviously."

"Bed?"

"Couch's fine," Robin let him know as he moved to his feet, erection unabashedly in view. He motioned to the bottle he'd brought with him, "Lather up."

The edge of Slade's mouth quirked as he walked to the sofa, picking up the lotion before squirting it into his hands, "You certainly are a demanding little thing, aren't you?"

"I could say the same for you," Robin smirked, pushing the man onto the couch and quickly straddling his lap. "Remember when you wanted me to call you Master?"

"Hmm, still has a nice ring to it," the man said almost absently as he watched his cock slowly disappear into the hero.

"Mmn, cockrings, I miss those," the teen breathed as he braced himself on the man's shoulders and slowly lifted his body before bringing it back down over the man's length.

"You are delightfully single-minded," Slade breathed as his hands closed around the hero's waist and moved in sync with his body.

Robin's lips curled into a little smile as he picked up the pace, enjoying the small, almost invisible shifts in the villain's expression as he did so. Slade's thumbs had taken to circling his hip bones while his fingers squeezed at the teen's ass. The little brat had always been a bit scrawny for Slade's taste, but his build had certainly ventured into emaciated territory after the end of the world… or at least by comparison. His body rarely changed, and though he had lost some weight since Gotham, it barely showed.

"We ought to try and bulk you up while we're here," he murmured as the hero began to move more aggressively. "I wonder if we'll have any luck getting food from the other apartments..."

"Shh, Slade, don't ruin this for me," Robin said as evenly as he could – but the response still came out rather choppy as he had taken to a bouncing movement. "And pick up the slack, would you?"

Slade responded with a firm slap to the teen's behind, "I nailed you to the wall last night. It's your turn."

"Oops, I forgot... You're not a team player…. Guess that's why you're good with your hands."

"Versus you, who is good with your ass," Slade smirked again, wrapping his hands more tightly around the lithe hips and thrusting his own to meet them.

"Speak for yourself, Ass Whisperer," Robin gave a breathy laugh.

"That's no way to speak to your Master, Robin." The villain gave a dangerous smile.

"Prefer Ass Master?" the hero quirked.

"No," Slade grunted him as he lifted the teen, spun him around, and planted him face first into the couch. "Just Master."

Robin said something incomprehensible into the cushion. It might have been a swear, or perhaps another wisecrack… It was too hard to tell between the muffled voice and the sounds of skin hitting skin. By the time the teen had righted himself, he was too busy moaning to say much else.

Slade's hands felt rough and calloused as they dug in to Robin's hips, pulling the hero's body in time with each of his thrusts. In spite of himself, the teen gave a small grin as he braced himself against the arm of the couch and moaned with each crisp slap.

"Deeper," he panted, pushing himself hard over the man's length and casting a spirited glance over his shoulder.

"Be my guest," Slade purred as he released the teen and jutted his hips slightly, smirking when the hero began moving without the slightest hesitation. Robin pulled forward, arching his back before slamming himself back over Slade's erection, biting his lip and moaning as he did so.

"Fuck me, that feels amazing," Robin breathed after several hard snaps of his hips trying not to use his injured hand as he pushed against the couch for leverage. "Ahh – lay back. Let me ride you."

"Just don't take forever this time," Slade muttered and slapped the teen's ass before he pulled away and stretched out onto the couch.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the hero said dismissively, straddling the man before grabbing the lotion with his good hand and applying a generous squirt over the man's cock. "Hands," he commanded, smirking with the man complied and received a second and equally generous portion. "I like it when you're compliant like this."

"Well, that's the deal, isn't it?" Slade ran a wet palm up the hero's shaft. "You boss my cock around here, and I boss your ass around once we're on the road to Gotham."

"I'm fine with that," Robin rolled his eyes and plopped back over the man's cock. "Seeing as I'm not going to make it out of here alive."

"So you say," the villain's smile turned slightly colder. "What's your plan, then? Get in a few good fucks before I leave you here? Then what?"

"Hadn't given much thought beyond the fucking, honestly," the teen quipped, rolling his hips and enjoying the man's grip on his cock as he moved. "I guess blowing my brains out is the best option."

"Oh, yes. Clearly the best choice," Slade answered darkly, his cold smile melting into a sneer. "Why even wait? I could kill you now, if you like? I would even make it painless if you asked me to."

"Such a gentleman," the teen scoffed, bouncing a bit faster over the man's erection before biting his lip and smirking.

The villain snorted, glaring while he tightened his hand over the teen's cock, watching the hero's back arc and his lips divide.

"You close?" Robin almost sung, his head thrown back as his chest heaved for precious air.

Slade clutched the teen's length with one hand while his other braced against the couch as he forced his hips upward to meet the younger man's movements. "Just cum already," he grunted, running his thumb over the underside of the teen's cock and gripping slightly harder than he knew would be comfortable. Robin only moaned at the pressure, bucking his hips while his good hand fell onto the man's chest and braced for support. Slade pumped faster at the sight, his lips curling into a tiny sneer as he felt his own release building inside him.

The hero let out a loud and breathless cry as his back arched harder in release. Slade didn't blink as the first wave of cum splashed over his stomach, dotting his chest

Robin's good hand clutched at his arm, nails digging into the skin. "God, yes!" he cried out, his body tightening around Slade's arousal in surges.

The man responded with a haughty smirk and near glare, thrusting up into the hero with long hard strokes as the teen happily bounced over his lap, riding out the last of his climax as his cock twitched in the villain's grip.

"You're not done," Slade informed him wryly as the hero slowed, mouth open and panting with a dazed look in his eyes.

"Right," Robin muttered, a near giggle in his tone as he licked his lips and forced his body into motion again.

Slade gave a droll glare, letting his hands roam to the teen's hips before his grasp tightened and he moved the smaller body in time with his own thrusts.

"You're a – slave-driver…. You know that?" The hero asked breathlessly.

"If you're the slave, then you really should be calling me master," the older man gave a dark smirk as his hips met the hero's backside with a series of crisp slaps.

"Mmm – Next time… maybe," Robin bounced weakly, literally allowing Slade to push him along.

"You really are incorrigible."

"You say that – like it's a – a bad thing…"he panted. "Hey… you close?"

"Oh? Are you tired? I just assumed you were lazy," the villain taunted.

"Bastard," the teen breathed, eyelids fluttering. "You've damn near – fucked me into – a coma."

"Are you dizzy?" Slade asked, his tone deepening as his eye narrowed.

Robin gave a small sound and shrugged with an ambivalent smile on his lips, "Isn't sex supposed to make you dizzy?"

"Leave it to the Boy Wonder to seduce a man, interrupt his work, and then fall asleep on his cock."

"Hey, at least I'm not crying on you!" Robin smirked somewhat painfully, trying vaguely to roll his hips with the man's movements. "Or throwing up!"

"Or attacking me in a state of half-consciousness."

"I will apologize for only one of those things," Robin let him know. "But I will let you pick."

Slade gave the smallest of chuckles as he pushed the teen off his lap.

"Hey!" he protested, clawing at the man's arm as he moved towards the kitchen.

"You need to eat something," Slade let him know, dodging and ignoring the outstretched hands completely. "And then I'm changing your bandages."

Robin rolled his eyes and flopped back against the couch, "You gonna' wipe my ass for me, too?"

Slade gave a bored snort and quickly rummaged through their stash, "I'd planned for you to make the food while I made your armor."

"And I told you that I don't need armor. It's a waste to make it for me. The food too. You should eat it and get out while you can - If you can."

"You're eating," the man said firmly. "Even if I have to shove a spoon down your throat, which, by the way, I know you can handle."

"Don't waste good fellatio on bad threats, Slade." Robin tisked and stood to his feet, wobbling slightly as he pretended to ignore the commotion of the dead gathering outside the apartment door. "And don't waste the calories. Just fuck me a few more times before you leave and I'll die happy."

"About that, then," Slade replied in a droll tone. "I'll need all the weapons. Do you want me to kill you before I go, or do you want to do it? That is assuming you still want to die with a bullet in your brain."

"Uh, no. You don't get to kill me," Robin huffed, making his way to the table before his shaking knees decided that sitting down was a good idea.

"Are you sure? I'm very good at it."

"Oh, I'm sure you're good at it," Robin drawled sarcastically. "But you don't sound at all interested in killing me. It's my first time, you know. I want it to be special."

"I could light some candles."

Robin smirked in answer, his eyes drifting over the flecks of dried blood that were glued to the table. "Did you read the guy's note?"

"No," Slade answered, placing two bowls on the table and sitting across from the teen.

The hero eyed the sheet that had been draped over the man's body. "Is there a reason we're keeping him around, or...?"

"Waste not, want not," Slade pushed the bowl closer to the teen. "Eat."

Robin looked down at the bowl and raised an eyebrow before he quietly spoke. "You really shouldn't waste this on me."

"I'm keeping the body because it might make a good decoy – maybe even bait, but I don't think I've ever seen one of them go after anything but fresh blood and meat." Slade glared up from his bowl. "Do you prefer that I plan on using your corpse instead?"

"Waste not, want not," Robin gave a small smile.

"I won't fuck a corpse, you know. And in your state, that's about what you are – just a lot mouthier."

Robin rolled his eyes slightly, folding his arms over his chest as he glared down at the food. "You can't possibly think that I'll make it out of here alive… He'll, I'd be shocked if you made it out, and you're immune!"

"Eat your food, Robin."

"You know, using my body is actually a good idea… At least for getting out of the building… How many days do you think you'll need to make your armor?"

"I'm making your armor first. Are you going to eat or not?" Slade glared impatiently.

"No," Robin snapped, "I told you it's a fucking waste." He shoved his bowl across the table, watching it slide over the edge before the villain caught it and gave a long, heated sigh. Robin swallowed at the death glare he received, but resolved himself to an indifferent shrug. "You should eat it."

The room settled back into a long, uneasy silence before Slade finally responded in a cold tone, "Is that really what you want?"

"Yeah," Robin gave a weak smile. "The only way you can possibly make it is with my death. I guess I'm fine with that… I think that's all I've ever really hoped for… Dying for a cause… making some sort of difference."

"If that's what you've decided, then so be it." Slade stood from the table, grabbing the dishes and moving them back into the kitchen. "Go lie down, then. I have work to do."

The teen nodded, pushing himself to his feet. He did what he could to keep his gait steady, but there was a noticeable weakness in his steps as he made his way towards the hallway – at least until Slade grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall. Robin gave a pained grunt at the impact and a raspy cry as the calloused hand tightened into a painful chokehold.

"Right now," the man snarled as the hero kicked at his shins and pushed against his chest, trying to force the grip to relent. "Tell me what you feel right now."

Robin hissed and gagged as the villain's grip tightened over his throat, pinning his body against the cold surface and lifting him to eye-level. His heels scrapped helplessly against the wall, trying to gain some sort of traction, some balance as he struggled to lift his body to meet the pressure. Slade only glared and watched as the pretty blue eyes began to gloss over in a bloodshot mess and the hero continued through a series of weak defensive moves.

"Don't fight, Robin. It will only make this harder." Slade let the teen's fist crash into his cheek, giving a merciless huff at the weakness of the blow.

Robin watched as his vision darkened, feeling the heat and pressure building in his eyes, making his face flush.

Slade's glare intensified as he threw the teen to the floor, letting him choke in ragged gasp of air before kneeling down grabbing the thick, black hair. "Or maybe you struggle because you know I'm right. You were built for this. You were built to survive because that the only thing know to do. This world may kill you, but it won't be without a fight."

Slade gave the teen's cheek a few gentle smacks as Robin stared numbly at the floor, rubbing his neck as if he could erase the bruises that would soon form over his skin. His breath flowed in a series of rasping gasps and shuddering exhales.

The villain stood, his back turned to the hero as we took the few steps needed to reach the kitchen "You know I'm right. I'd kill you now if I wasn't so sure of it myself." Grabbing the bowl from the counter, Slade gave an innocent smile at the teen's glare and walked back to him. One hand moved through the dark hair before slowly drifting down the back of the teen's neck. Slade lowered the meal onto the teen's hands. "Now eat."

A/N: Remember when there were more zombies in this story? I miss that. We should invite them to hang out sometime.