A/N: Happy B-day lalalerah (January 26)!
This one ran away with me… it's not exactly according to the original wish, which I felt was a bit too close to "Almeria Man" by Jayto. It still IS along the same theme, though!
I wouldn't call this story dark although it's not very fluffy either… more like "a fun adventure with bad boys, smex and death," yeah… ;) It is AU, and you have to expect the OOC-ness that comes with it.
The Dark Bird
The mercenary closed in on his victim, a man in his fifties, who had been annoying enough to make a run for it. Now the guy was backed up against the wall in one of Gotham City's darkest alleys, which made his chances of survival equal a snow-flake's in a forest fire.
Suddenly something jumped down between Slade and his prey. The man's first thought was that the Dark Knight had decided to meddle in his affairs, but, although the shadow was mainly black, it was far too short and lithe to be the Bat.
"Step away, you're not going to hurt him," the shadow growled out.
"And why is that?" Slade asked, slightly amused. The one standing before him was nothing more than a kid, seventeen or eighteen years old… and if this little hero didn't change his mind, he wouldn't get much older.
"Because he's my target."
"Excuse me?" Slade blinked, hoping his cloth mask would hide how stunned he was.
"He's mine. I'm getting paid for taking him down and I need the money, so skedaddle… go mug someone else."
"MUG?" Slade had never been so insulted in his life. "Who do you think I am, kid?"
"How should I know? Some random…" the young man suddenly seemed to narrow his unmasked eyes, and took a step towards the mercenary, peering at him in the faint light from a flickering street-light.
"Deathstroke the Terminator!"
Slade had never heard his full nickname called out quite so enthusiastically before.
"The very same," he confirmed.
"Oh, wow… You are my hero, you know!" the teen exclaimed. "Ah, gee… I never thought I would ever go after the same target as Deathstroke, that's so cool…"
"I'm sure it is, now move aside," Slade said.
"Um… yeah, I mean… I should… Like, as a favor, but… well… I really do need the money, and-"
"Let's not turn this into a discussion," Slade growled.
"You're right," the young man nodded and whipped around towards their trembling target. An instant later a long, thin, curved throwing-knife of some sort was sticking out the man's chest. The teen wandered up to the body, making sure the man was dead before snapping a photo of the corpse with his phone and then removing the knife.
"There. Problem solved. The pic will get me paid, so, well… if you want the body…?"
"Who are you?" Slade found himself asking.
"Oh, sorry. Bad manners. Comes from growing up on the street, I guess," the teen grinned and shrugged before extending a hand. "I'm Black Robin. Pleased to meet you."
"Black Robin is myth," Slade snorted, and then looked into the teen's laughing eyes. "Although I'm starting to think that there might be some truth to it."
"Oh, I'm a myth, alright, always staying in the shadows after all… didn't wanna get all famous like you, not since I'm a bit stuck here in Gotham… it's bad news to be well known in Gotham. Anyway… Deathstroke… wow… I kinda want to ask you for your autograph…"
"I might be willing to carve it into your back," the man muttered.
"Wow! Really? That would be amazing! But I really have to go get paid first," the teen produced a black hood from his belt and pulled it over his head.
"Isn't it a bit late or masks?" Slade snorted.
"Nah, I never hunt with my mask on… if my victims can't see me… I mean… where's the fun in that? Then anyone could have offed them. I want them to know."
"You have a big ego, don't you?" Slade smirked under his mask.
"Goes with my big… ah, but I think I might be overshadowed in that department for once… hmmm…"
Slade raised an eyebrow as the kid blatantly checked him out.
"Sooo…" Black Robin continued. "Can I see you after the payment?"
"If you can find me," the man said smugly.
"It's a date!" The teen jumped up, grabbed the bottom rung of a fire-ladder and swung his body upwards. He was gone just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving a bemused Slade and a cooling body in his wake.
One hour later there was a knock on the man's window. He pulled on his mask and parted the blinds.
"How did you find me?" Slade asked as he opened the narrow side-window, the only one that could be opened, letting the black-clad youngster in.
"Oh, I've heard rumors about this apartment," the young assassin shrugged. "They say it's like your over-night place whenever you have to stay in Gotham, but I was never sure… nice place, though."
"Thank you."
"Can I use it when you're not here?"
"No."
"Awww… I wouldn't wreak anything?"
"Still no. And I won't be using it anymore. I don't like it when people can find me that easily."
The teen sighed and threw himself down in an expensive leather couch. When Slade had bought the place he had had a decorator do it up, and he had a maid-service coming in once a week just to dust and vacuum, so whenever he needed the place it wouldn't be a dump.
The kid was pulling off his mask and shaking his head at him.
"Don't be like that, Deathstroke, I'm just a fan. I won't tell."
"You should perhaps be concerned that I want to make sure of that, Black Robin," Slade told him.
"Well… it would be an honor, but I'm not ready to kick the bucket yet… having too much fun. Can I get back to you? And call me Robin. May I call you Slade?"
"You know my name?"
"Man, I told you! Fan boy here! I literally have a scrap-book all about you… oh, will you take a pic with me?" the teen asked and held up his phone.
"No."
"Aw."
Robin didn't push the issue, though, and Slade was almost sure that he hadn't been kidding about the Slade-killing-him-offer… this kid was probably seriously disturbed… He liked it.
Slade sighed and pulled his mask off. The young man knew his identity, after all, and he now knew his. A low whistle made him throw a glare at the teen, who sat up straight in the couch from his slumping position.
"Sorry… I'm acting a bit like a spaz, right?" Robin mumbled and actually looked ashamed of himself.
"Some."
"Yeah, it's just that… well… never had a hero besides you, and it's, well… a bit overwhelming."
"I bet."
"Want me to go?" the words were accompanied by a puppy-dog look which made the man chuckle. He had heard rumors about Black Robin, and if even half the body-count the teen had racked up was true, it was impressive.
"No, stay. Tell me about yourself. How old are you?"
"Eighteen!... soon."
"Ah-ha. And how did you come to be so good with knives?"
"Started at the circus. Grew up there, but then my parents got killed. I took care of the guy who did it, and his whole little group…" the teen had amazingly blue eyes, the man now saw, and they had just turned as cold as ice. His thick, black locks which were only long enough to brush his collar, and even though his face wasn't rounded, the big eyes and the way the teen's hair framed his features made him look somewhat childish and innocent… or had, until that moment, because those were the eyes of a killer, not an angel.
"Hmmm… the Zucco-group?" the man asked, trying to pretend that he wasn't enjoying the view.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I was in town for a while back then. Almost had the Batman blame me…"
"Oh. Sorry."
"Nah, he soon figured out it had to be a novice," the man smirked, making the teen huff. "So…? You didn't find a new family?"
"Not many want to take in an eight-year old hyperactive circus-brat," the teen shrugged. "Besides, I been getting by."
"Killing?"
"Among other things."
"Do you sell yourself as well?"
Now it was Robin's turn to get the insult of a life-time, and he straightened up even more, eyes blazing.
"No!"
"Just asking. So then what?"
"Bit of stealing…" Robin winced when he saw the derisive look on the man's face. "Yeah, I know, but I did some really high end jobs, not convenience-stores, you know. Didn't really get the same kick out of it, though…"
The man looked the kid over, noticing that his outfit was merely ordinary black clothes, worn and slightly dirty, and his belt was a badly home-made versions of the Batman's.
"So you became a legendary killer… and you need money?"
The teen looked self-conscious and picked at a hole on the knees of his jeans.
"Like I said, I have to keep a low profile… I can't take many jobs. I've been able to raise my prizes lately, but with the rents being what they are… I don't want to sleep outside."
"Do you have a drug-problem?" the man asked, trying to figure out where the money went.
"Never touches the stuff. Got drunk once and was almost stabbed by a pimp. No, I want to keep my head clear, thank you."
"Smart boy."
Those simple words of praise made the teen's whole face lit up. Slade had a feeling that it was a long time since he had gotten any kind of approval.
"So, why are you stuck in Gotham?" the man continued his interrogation.
"Don't have any papers… not anything. I'm saving up to it, though, but those things are expensive if you want them done right."
"You're right. I know a guy…" Slade offered.
"Really? Here in Gotham? Can I have his name? Please?"
"That won't be enough, I'm afraid, he only works on a personal recommendation from a former client. Like me."
"What will that cost me?" the teen asked.
"I'll decide that if I decide to recommend you," the man smirked.
"Okay."
It was almost eerie, in a way, how quickly the teen, who had come off as such a stubborn little thing, folded when Slade put his foot down. It almost gave the man a rush.
"Well, I have another job here," the mercenary told the kid. "So I might look you up before I leave, and then we'll see…"
"Umm… no," Robin said and stood up.
"No?"
"Yeah, don't mean to be rude, sorry, but this is my city, and you're welcome to stay, but if you plan to work you better get the fuck out. Pardon my French."
"Excuse me?" Slade smirked.
"Yeah. Sorry," Robin looked like he wanted to scrape his feet on the floor, but his voice was still firm.
"It's a big city. Why not share?" the man found himself suggesting. Normally he wouldn't even discuss things like things with such a shrimp, but he was amused.
"Because you're going after Robert the Smith. And he's mine. As well."
"How did you know?"
"I eavesdropped on my client when I picked up the cash from our first mutual friend. He thought it would be fun to hire us both. They have a bet going."
"Hm. My fee just went up."
"No, because you're not doing it. Like I said, I need the money. More than you, it looks like," the teen said and gestured to the room in general.
"Yes, but I'm not going to let a little slip of a boy take my job from under my nose," Slade snorted and folded his arms.
"Not even once?" Robin asked, giving him the puppy-dog eyes again.
"No."
"Oh. Well… then I guess we fight?"
"Or you can go home and watch cartoons. I'm sure it's a school-night," Slade smirked.
"Ouch. You're grumpy. Is your arthritis acting up?" Robin asked sweetly and beckoned the man to begin with a hand gesture. "Age before beauty."
Slade sighed and decided that he would knock the brat out quickly, and leave to do the job. When the kid woke up it would be a done deal and he could pout as much as he wanted. However, his fist only connected with air.
Then a foot connected with his stomach, making him take a step back.
Maybe there was more to this kid than just a big mouth and ego… and whatever that other thing might be.
You could only surprise Slade once, however, and he blocked the next kick by grabbing the ankle.
"Ops. Saw that one?" Robin grinned sheepishly, before launching at Slade instead of trying to pull away as expected. The teen's body twisted in an amazing show of agility, and Slade's grip slipped.
The teen flipped away, and was suddenly on top of a book-case.
"Are any of these like family heirlooms?" he asked, indicating the little statues and other pieces of art on the shelf.
"No, the decorator bought them, so if you think you can blackmail me-" Slade started.
"No, I just wanna make sure they were alright to throw," the teen said and did just that.
Slade had to admit that Robin had an almost uncanny ability to hit the mark with any kind of projectile. He wondered why the boy didn't have a gun, though, and decided to ask.
"Too expensive," the teen answered with a shrug as he vaulted through the air to avoid being kicked to little pieces like the bookcase had just been. "I made my first kill by throwing a lid from a trashcan, so I figured throwing things was my thing." He flung a low bowl at the man's head as a demonstration.
"If you think you're going to be able to knock me out…" Slade smirked and shook his head once he had ducked the bowl.
"Not looking to do that," the teen smirked back. "All I want… is a head start."
With that the boy was gone, slipping through the window he had maneuvered himself in front off. Slade swore. He would never fit through that opening himself. He grabbed his mask and his gear and stormed out of the apartment, heading for the roof. It would be a cold day in hell before he let a little boy best him, and it didn't matter how cute the kid was.
Robert the Smith knew he was in trouble. He had claimed to be able, and failed, to produce any plutonium one time too many… and he shouldn't, perhaps, have promised so many people a share of the cake. Well, the groups just needed some time to cool down, he figured, and his house had all the state of the art security, so he felt pretty safe where he was, currently standing in his bedroom, trying to pick out what to wear that night. Just because you had exiled yourself didn't mean you couldn't look good doing it, he figured. He was slightly surprised when a curved blade sliced his spine clean off. Or he would have been, had not his head been hit by a bullet at the same time, making all his shirts more or less unwearable.
"Ah… shoot. It's a tie," Robin muttered as he dropped to the floor. He had discovered that when all the security had been installed, the ceiling had been lowered to allow for all the cables to run through the house. It also left just enough space for a wiry teen to crawl through it undetected and lift up a ceiling panel to get a very nice view of the target.
"Looks like it," Slade growled as he came through the door, his gun still raised.
"Aw, don't pout, we kinda both won!" Robin grinned and snapped a photo of the body. "But I get more points for finesse!"
"If I hadn't taken the security guard out, he would have detected you," Slade snorted.
"Pft… he wouldn't have known where to look for me, anyway." Robin shrugged. "I would have gotten the job done before he caught up."
"So you say."
"Well, your way was kinda stupid you know?" Robin said.
"And why is that?"
"Because Batman is watching this guy."
"He what?"
"Yeah, Robert was gonna be a witness in a trial next week, although our client didn't know that part… so the Bat has this place under surveillance, and he's probably on his way right now."
A crash was heard from downstairs, the sound of someone who didn't have time to pick the lock on a door.
"Come on!" Robin said and jumped up, grabbing the edge of the hole in the ceiling.
"I won't fit up there," the man snorted.
"You will, there's a bit of an extra space, just enough to hide out in," Robin explained hurriedly and reached down. "Come on! I wouldn't set up my hero! Besides, I'll be right next to you!"
Slade, who knew that being chased by someone who knew every building and every shadow of the city wasn't a good idea, took Robin up on his offer, and a moment later the gap in the ceiling was closed. It was a tight squeeze, and they were pressed against each other, keeping perfectly still. Well, Slade was. Robin kept wriggling his ass, which was pushed up against the man's more sensitive parts.
"Stop that," Slade hissed in the teen's ear.
"Just trying to make things more exciting."
"I don't think there's a lack of that right now," the man muttered.
They heard steps and a muttered curse from below.
"Gordon? It's me. Robert's dead. Shot. Oh. And stabbed. Curious. The perp seemed to have come in through the back gate, might have had time to leave the same way. Send your boys, will you? I'm going to have a look around."
"Do you like coming in the back gate?" Robin almost soundlessly chuckled. Slade put a hand firmly over the little killer's mouth.
They stayed put for hours as the police did their thing. Not until sunlight was sifting through the tiny gaps in the panels did they dare to move. Robin was the first to peek out, making sure the room was empty before he pushed the panel and dropped softly to the floor.
"They took the body, I think they are done here," he said, but still keeping his voice down, surprising Slade with his professionalism. It appeared that when things got serious, so did Robin. To a degree.
"Seems so," Slade agreed and carefully glanced out a window onto an empty street.
"So, should we head to the client now?" the teen asked.
"Together?"
"Well, it was a tie! I guess we have to split the money," the boy frowned.
"I think I prefer to go alone."
"Fine. Then I won't show you a really clever and safe way out of here," the teen huffed and slipped out the bedroom door.
"Robin, careful. The client might not like their little bet going awry," Slade called after him.
"Pft! What? It was funny!" Robin smirked over his shoulder and then turned the corner.
But the client was not amused. Slade could sense that in the atmosphere as he entered the man's dingy office some time later.
"I'm not amused," the man said, because people like that likes to spell things out, and their moods was probably supposed to be intimidating. "You and the kid set us up, didn't you? You had money riding on this as well."
"Don't insult me, Kano," Slade snorted. "Just pay me."
"I'd love to. Just as I paid Black Robin." The man nodded to a corner and only now did Slade discover that the heap of junk there also contained a small human body.
"I'm impressed. He's a tough little thing," Slade said.
"Oh, we ambushed him as soon as he entered. We had already heard the rumors. Stabbed and shot? Wasn't hard to figure out that you were up to no good. And Black Robin? He's not so tough unconscious."
"So you had to knock him out before you killed him. You're such a gentleman, Kano."
"He's not dead… but he's not going to like where he wakes up. Let's just say that he's going to make sure to earn back what I lost on the bet, one man at a time. You, on the other hand…"
Slade had seen the man with the gun just outside the door by now, but he had already drawn and fired his own before the man's finger had firmed on the trigger. More men came at him, but Kano suffered from the kind of over confidence all crime lords seemed to get when they had reached a certain point in their career. He didn't suffer for long. As per usual, the condition turned out to be fatal.
Slade scooped Robin's unconscious body up more as an afterthought. He wanted to see the expression on the teen's face when he realized that Slade had been right, after all.
The young man stirred a little before he opened his eyes.
"Oooww… Hi."
"Hi," Slade smirked.
"So you're my first client then?"
"You know what would happen to you?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"It's kind of Kano's thing when he's pissed off at someone. Seen it before…" Robin mumbled.
"He's not pissed off. He's dead." Slade informed him.
"Oh… so I'm not at a…?"
"No, this is my apartment."
"Oh… never saw the bedroom before. Thought it seemed a bit too classy," Robin said and started to sit up. "Oh, crap!" he groaned and caressed his side.
"A few broken ribs. I patched you up, you'll be fine."
"Yes, because I have a great health-insurance…" the teen muttered.
"Never been called that before," Slade deadpanned, making Robin chuckle and then wince. "Oooww… don't make me laugh?"
"It's not a complaint I often hear from people, but I'll try," Slade smirked and set down a wrapped up sandwich on the nightstand. "Eat. It's included in the rent."
"Rent?"
"We'll discuss that part later."
"I don't think I can afford that," the teen frowned. "We didn't get paid, did we?"
"No."
"Then you can have my half of that," Robin said generously.
"Your part of money we didn't get. Cute."
"Money that's owed to us…" Robin smirked. "I'm sure you can go back and… talk to someone."
"I left the office pretty empty, I'm afraid."
"Oh… but Kano was the whipping boy of someone else, he wasn't that far up the food chain, after all. And no one likes to be in debt to Deathstroke the Terminator."
"You're sweet when you are flattering," Slade chuckled.
"I'm almost always sweet, actually, and I make mean pancakes."
"Is that so?"
"Well, I take some odd jobs sometimes…" the teen grinned.
"Odder than killing for money?"
"Maybe not. But they were more boring and paid less."
"And you took them because?"
"Hey, laying low, you know… also sometimes as a cover."
"I see. Well, you might want to think about flipping pancakes for a while. You're not going to be able to do anything much too strenuous for a few weeks."
"Awww… but I'm here, half naked in your bed!" Robin objected.
"That seduction thing you are trying..." Slade said.
"Yeah?"
"…it needs work."
"Oh. Sorry. Never tried it before."
"I bet, but I was serious about the job. The way to do this is to relax and take it slowly."
"Yeah, so I've heard. Otherwise it hurts, right?" Robin asked with a very innocent expression.
"Yes, your ribs- you weren't talking about your ribs, were you?"
"Nope!" the teen grinned.
"You are incorrigible."
"Just the way you like me."
"Please, who says I like you at all?" the man snorted and walked out of the room, leaving Robin with a very hurt look on his face.
Slade didn't see the teen again for over an hour, and then Robin shuffled into the living room, limping slightly.
"Um… may I use your shower?"
"I would have to re-tape your ribs," Slade pointed out.
"Yeah, but… they aren't so bad. Had worse. It's just that, well… I spent all that time crawling through the dust and… it's been a while."
Slade studied the young man, He knew exactly how bad the ribs were, and they had to hurt with every breath. Adding to that were some very ugly bruises covering half his face, his arms and his legs. The kid was a mess, and he had 'had worse'?
"I guess you are filthy. Fine. Do it. Down the hall to the left."
"Thanks. I've… I've changed the sheets on the bed, I got some dirt and blood on them," Robin said before disappearing towards the bathroom.
Slade shook his head. This Robin was one strange little bird, that was for sure, and still he didn't really get the manipulating-vibe from him… he seemed… honest, which was, of course, even stranger. Slade prided himself on being a good judge of character, however, and he felt like he could almost come to trust this Black Robin… obviously not when it came to work, but in all else.
The next time the teen appeared it was with a towel around his hips, asking if he could wash his clothes. Slade agreed and, after taping his ribs again, handed the boy one of his own t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants to wear in the mean time. He then spent some time chuckling at the young man who seemed to be drowning in the fabric. Robin took it all in stride, however, and quietly sat down on the couch to wait for his clothes to be done.
"Um… about our pay… are you going to try to get it back?" Robin asked after a while.
"They will pay up, sooner or later," Slade shrugged. Robin was right, being in debt to him was not healthy.
"Good… I mean… My rent is due and the alley-guy didn't pay much. I could really use a couple of hundred right now. If you're… sharing."
"A couple of hundred?"
"Um… one hundred then?" Robin asked.
"You kill for a couple of hundred dollars?" the man stared at the young man in disbelief.
"What? What do you charge?"
"For this particular job; fifty thousand. For the alley-guy forty-five."
"Fifty-? Wow! No wonder you can afford this place!"
"What, did you expect me to work for nothing?" the man smirked.
"No, I mean… I thought you charged more, sure, but… really? It was an easy job!"
"To you and me, perhaps. So why don't you make sure to get paid what you deserve?"
The teen straightened a little at those words, but then slumped again.
"Well, when I started they told me I was just a kid… and even when I showed them what I could do… let's just say that people are jerks to the little guy…"
"And why didn't you let them know what you thought about that?"
"Oh, I did… people got hurt… I'm not a total pushover, you know! It's just that they are all connected and before I knew it I had a prize on my head…" Robin muttered.
"Oh? How much? Worth cashing in?" Slade smirked.
"Not to you," Robin smirked back, obviously picking up on that Slade was joking.
"Well, let me guess… that's when you stayed low for a while?"
"Uh-huh," the teen nodded. "I did some well-paying jobs using different front-guys and such, but as soon as a client sees me, I can just see him thinking that I should be easy to screw over."
"Yes, you do come off as a little slutty," the man leered.
"Ha-ha…" the teen muttered and then blushed a little, to the mercenary's surprise. Maybe not so slutty after all.
Their talk was interrupted by the buzzer from the washer and Robin got to his feet, wincing.
"Well, I guess I'll get out of your hair now," he said and limped towards the door.
Slade looked up at the skies as if asking what sadistic angel had given him his current inclination and then called out.
"Robin, stop."
"Huh?" the teen turned around, looking bemused.
"You clothes are still wet, and you won't stand much of a chance out there right now. I'm leaving town tomorrow, but I plan to be back in about three weeks… if you want…" Slade took a deep breath, just to be able to get the offer out. "… if you want, you can stay here in the mean time."
It was rather worth it by the way the teen's face lit up.
"Really?"
"Yes, but I warn you; if you tell anyone of this place, if you invite anyone over, if so as much as a pillow is out of place when I return… there will be hell to pay."
"Yes, Sir!" the teen grinned. "I'll take care of it, I promise! And I'll sit tight!"
"You better. I don't want anyone being seen coming and going, do you understand? If you have to leave for supplies, make sure it's really necessary. And no ordering take-out."
"Oh. Why?" the teen looked troubled by this.
"As I said, I want to avoid anyone seeing you here, and any abnormal activity. The neighbors would notice. The people in this building think that this apartment is used as an over-night place by a company, if a teenager is seen running in and out of it all the time people might start talking."
"I understand. You can trust me," Robin said, and if it hadn't been for that honest look, Slade would have snorted.
That night the mercenary woke up with a warm body curled up next to him. This was unexpected for two reasons; one; he had made the boy a place to sleep on the sofa and two; he hadn't heard him come in and get into bed with him. Slade hoped that Robin was just that good, because if not it would mean that he was losing his touch.
When he woke up the next morning the spot next to him on the bed was empty, if still slightly warm, and when he entered the living room there was Robin on the couch again, giving him an innocent look. This one was very fake, though, and the boy was clearly nervous. The man held back a smirk and decided to pretend that he hadn't discovered the young man's little… whatever it was.
"So, I'm leaving this afternoon. Do you need to go to your place and get some things?"
"Yes, please," Robin breathed and Slade almost laughed out loud at the relief in his voice.
They went out for breakfast as Slade didn't keep anything that would spoil in the fridge and then Robin led them, still limping somewhat, to a run-down apartment building. It wasn't as much run down as resembling a Swiss cheese.
"You… you don't have to come in," the teen said, looking uncomfortable. It was clear that he didn't want the man to see where he was living, which was exactly why Slade insisted to come with him.
The apartment was only one small room. The windows were still there, even though one was cracks, letting the cold winds of Gotham in despite it having been taped up. Besides the stained and peeling wallpaper and an abhorrent carpet, the place was neat and as clean as it was possible to get it. There were only a few pieces of furniture and a single mattress in a corner. A shelf was actually full of books, most looking like they had been thrown out by their owners, but covering a wide range of subjects.
"You've read these?" Slade asked.
"Yeah! Love reading, but I mainly read at the library. Books are hard to come by sometimes."
"You never considered just taking them with you from the library, then?" the man said.
Robin's face got an incredulous look, like Slade had just suggested that he should start collecting children's feet.
The mercenary chuckled and shook his head, looking around.
"A neat apartment, and there's no sign of any kind of abuse… and still you grew up on the streets… Should I start calling you Annie?"
"I'm just…" Robin looked a bit embarrassed again, but then met Slade's amused gaze straight on. "I'm better than that."
"Yes, you are. And you're better than this. Grab your things."
There really weren't much, a few clothes and then the books, which Robin wouldn't leave behind. One of the books, an album, Robin fumbled with a bit and obviously tried to hide. Slade wondered if it was the aforementioned scrapbook.
"As I said, the rent is due in a day or so, so I'll lose this place," the teen said, looking around. "But that's alright, I'll find another."
Slade just nodded. There were lots of these kinds of apartments in the city, all run down, all overpriced.
"Um, one more thing?" Robin said as they got outside. Slade carrying the plastic bags full of books.
"Yes?"
"Well, I wanna get my money-stash so I can pay you back for breakfast and buy some food," the teen said.
"The breakfast was on me, but of course we can go get it. Is it far?" Slade knew that keeping money in the apartment would have meant losing it to the first burglar or drug addict kicking down the door, so keeping it hidden elsewhere was the clever thing to do. He himself had different kinds of emergency kits all over the globe, two in this city alone.
"It's just down here," the young man said and led them down a one-way alley. He stopped in front of a brick-house building and looked a bit concerned.
"Don't tell me you forgot where it is?" the man smirked.
"No, no. Normally I scale the building over there, " Robin pointed at a place where the withered stones created minuscule hand- and foot-holds which a mountain goat would be insecure about using. "And then I jump over to the rungs where the fire escape used to be and hang from one of them by one foot and then I can reach the loose brick up there," the teen explained.
"But that's a pretty hard feat with broken ribs," Slade concluded, suddenly understanding the hesitation.
"Yeah… um… do you think-"
"Yes, I can lend you some money-"
"No! No, I mean, can I stand on your shoulders? I think I'll be able to reach then?" Robin interrupted.
Slade looked at the teen who seemed a bit huffy about his lending-suggestion and then nodded.
"Fine. But don't fall and break any more bones."
"I won't," Robin grinned and then maneuvered Slade to stand just below where he needed to reach. After another bout of hesitation, Robin scratched his head.
"Umm… do you think you can… crouch down?"
Slade did so, but even then it was obviously very painful for the boy to climb up on his shoulders. He managed, however, and gave the man the all clear to stand up.
The teen's balance was perfect, he didn't even waver, and soon he had a plastic bag with neatly stacked bills in his hand.
After leaving Robin and his things in the apartment, Slade went grocery-shopping, stubbornly refusing the boy's money. The convenience-store was a rather big one so, after some thought, the man also picked up a few ten-packs of underwear and socks, as well as a few t-shirts and sweatpants. He had seen the state of most of Robin's clothes, after all, and most needed to be thrown away. Or burnt.
It wasn't that he really pitied the kid. He'd make his way, he was resourceful enough, he was by no means a helpless stray kitten… but, like Slade had agreed, he was worth better. At least he would be able to rest up for a few weeks and heal while Slade was away.
"This is too much!" Robin objected when the man handed him the bags.
"You are my houseguest for a while, and I have standards. The food should last if you don't pig out. There's a small 7-eleven on the corner if you need milk. I'll leave you a bit of cash for-"
Slade was suddenly unable to talk since his lips had been taken over and a pair of arms was wrapped around his neck as the teen was standing on tip-toe to reach.
"Thank you!" Robin gasped as he pulled away.
"Thank you," the man smirked.
"You're not… mad?" the teen looked a little bit apprehensive.
"No, but I'm running late. I'll be back in about three weeks; I'll call when I know the date."
"Um… my phone really doesn't do calls… I just use it as a camera," the teen mumbled.
"The apartment has a phone though," the man chuckled. "I'll cancel the cleaning-lady on the way to the airport, so you better look after the place. You can put the things we wrecked in the hall closet for now."
"Okay… um… I'll miss you," Robin smiled, his big, blue eyes unusually bright.
"And I'll maim you if you misbehave," the man smirked and left.
Slade ran into some trouble and it was almost four weeks later when he finally stood outside the apartment door again He had called the day before, giving the brat at least a chance to clean up his act, and Robin had sounded ecstatic.
He had barely touched the handle before the door swung open, showing a grinning barefoot teenage killer in a… frilly white and pink checkered apron?
"Experimenting a bit, are we?" Slade deadpanned and ran his eye up and down the slim figure as he toed off his shoes.
"Huh? OH!" the teen blushed and ripped the apron off, leaving him in a pair of faded jeans and a tight t-shirt, which was, the man tried to tell himself, better. "Sorry, found it among your maid's supplies… I'm cooking us dinner!"
"Oh, so you decided to be a housewife instead of an assassin?" Slade asked and shrugged his coat off. It was getting cold out there as winter had just sunken its greedy teeth into Gotham.
"I'm just… trying to thank you…" Robin looked hurt and the man startled, having forgotten how open the teen's face was. Raw emotions like that could be a bit… touching. Even for Slade.
"I was just joking. Dinner, you say? I'm starving."
The dinner was no Master Chef masterpiece but it was good and included a pair of great steaks and baked potatoes. Robin asked all about his mission and Slade really enjoyed talking about his job… he so rarely had a chance to, after all. It was as rare as a home cooked meal.
"I hope you have room for dessert!" the teen grinned as they had cleared their plates.
"I might, if I cut out one of my kidneys…" Slade almost sighed. The young man snickered and went to fetch something from the oven.
"Is that apple pie?"
"No, apple is so 'All American Hero'… this is raspberry!"
"And raspberry is more 'All American Villain'?" Slade asked, amused.
"Yeah… we're like sweet and sour and gets stuck in your teeth," Robin smirked.
"That was possibly the strangest analogy I've ever heard."
"Would you like your slice of analogy with custard or ice cream?" the teen just asked brightly.
The evening passed in leisurely conversation, mostly shop-talk, and then the young man stood up and stretched.
"You're all healed up?" Slade asked.
"Yup! Thank you so much for all this, Slade," he said, looking down on the man with his usually glittering eyes very serious. "I guess it's time for me to go," he added and gestured to a couple of plastic bags by the door. Slade had seen them when he had come in, but assumed that they were garbage. "If you're ever in town again, I really hope I run into you… although not while stealing my work," the teen added with a grin. He turned to go when Slade grabbed his wrist.
"Stay."
"Huh?" the young man looked utterly surprised, and got even more so when the man pulled him down on his lap.
"Stay," Slade repeated.
"But why- oh… the payment…" the teen's expression went from hopeful to resigned in a split second.
"What payment?"
"The rent… when you brought me back here you said we would discuss it later," Robin mumbled. "Sorry, I forgot."
"That was only a joke. I want you to stay the night, but only if you want to, understood?"
The young killer gave him a long, thoughtful look, like he was trying to figure out if the man was telling the truth, but then a soft smile graced his lips and the man could feel the young, lithe body relax and melt into his, while Robin's arms came up around his neck.
"I want to… very much."
The boy lowered his head and kissed him for the second time. The kiss was a little clumsy and faltering at first, but not from lack of interest, that much the man could tell from the teen's breathing.
"I… was… actually a bit worried that you wanted me to pay like that…" Robin grinned a little breathlessly as they parted.
"Is 'that' something you don't want to do?" the man asked. He would of course not force Robin to do anything, things like that was beneath him, but he needed to tell a certain part of himself to ease off if this wasn't leading anywhere.
"Oh, no! I mean, I want 'that', I do, but… well… I'm… I'm not any good, so I thought you might be angry."
"I rather doubt you're' not any good'," the man leered.
"Well, I couldn't hit a barn from the inside when I first started throwing knives," the teen shrugged, leaving Slade to interpret that. The man had no problems doing so, of course, after all, little orphan Annie was not the kind to whore around.
"I'll teach you," he smirked and stood up, lifting Robin with him, his hands under the teen's ass.
"Oh, I better pay attention, then…" the teen grinned as he let himself be carried into the bedroom and dropped onto the freshly made bed.
"You do that," Slade purred. "Now, for the first lesson: getting naked."
"I know this one, let me try it on you!" the enthusiastic student grinned and reached for the man, starting to unbutton his shirt. "Oh, my god, I'm undressing Deathstroke…" he half whispered to himself.
Slade chuckled and Robin went bright pink.
"Ow, I said that aloud?"
"Yes. Try not to come in your pants just by being near me, alright? As flattering as that would be…"
"You might be a little too late there," Robin snickered, but, for once, Slade couldn't tell if he was joking, because the teen had his head lowered, and his eyes firmly on the man's groin.
"May I?" the young man asked with a slightly hungry look on his face.
"As you are asking so nicely…" Slade chuckled.
Robin took his time, his fingers travelling over the clothed bulge a few times; his nails even scraping the fabric. It gave the man some very nice sensations, but in the end he almost groaned.
"Did you forget how a fly works?" he asked tensely.
"I'm only savoring the moment!" Robin objected. "It's driving you crazy, isn't it?" he added with a leer.
"Yes, I'd rather you savor the moment of me being inside you," the man muttered.
"We'll do that too," the young man promised, and then rubbed his hands together greedily. "And now for opening my present!"
"Is that what it is?"
"Well, did you bring me something else?"
"Should I have?"
"No, this is fine!"
"Good. Start playing with it or I'm taking it back," Slade told him firmly.
"Yes, Sir!" Robin grinned and finally undid the button and the zipper. It didn't take long for him to find his way to his 'present' and he wasn't disappointed. "It's… wow… I was right in not getting into a size-contest with you… you have me whipped."
"Interesting idea," Slade mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Lesson number two; using your hands."
"Um… mind if we skip that, 'cause I really want to use my mouth," Robin asked.
"Where have you been all my life?" Slade smirked.
"Mostly not born… but I'll make up for that now!" the teen grinned and lowered his head, licking at the leaking tip.
"Yes, that was a big oversight on your part. Bad boy," Slade hummed and put a hand on the back of the teen's head to urge him on.
"Mmmmhhhpf," Robin mumbled, the vibrations in his throat feeling very good for the man.
"Was what that? I can't hear you when you have a cock down your throat," Slade leered and pushed some more of it in the teen's mouth.
"Mmmphf!"
"Stop trying to talk and try to relax instead. This lesson is about deep-throating," the man informed him. "Make swallowing motions. Yes. Just like that. Breathe through your nose. Watch your teeth."
After a bit of muffled objections on Robin's part the boy seemed to get the hang of it and enjoy it. Slade leaned his head back, closing his eye and enjoyed it as well, making sure he wouldn't go over the edge. On the other hand, it felt too good to ask the boy to stop, and really, he recuperated rather quickly after all… It was easy to make up his mind, but he pulled out almost completely from the teen's mouth first.
"This lesson is called 'swallow it all'," he told him, and smirked as Robin's eyes widened a little as he understood the implication. He was a trooper, though, and managed to do it.
"That was… wow…" the teen gasped, his voice a little hoarse, when the man had finished.
"Glad you liked it."
"I… I did… I must be weird…" Robin said with a halfhearted grin.
"No, but I'm thinking along the lines of 'close to perfect'."
"Close to?" Robin said, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, you are still dressed, aren't you?"
Robin chuckled and pulled off his t-shirt. There wasn't a trace of any bruising anymore, just the well-defined chest and abs the man had seen before. If anything his body looked even better, something some good regular food and rest probably had helped with. The jeans came next and Robin laid back on the bed to pull them off, lifting his hips in a very inviting way.
"Is this better, Sir?" the little minx asked innocently.
"Much," Slade purred and stepped out of his own jeans completely, leaving them both naked. Robin had not been bragging about his size, at least it hadn't been empty bragging, he was very well endowed for his body-type. His underwear had also looked pretty wet in the front, but the man couldn't be sure if the teen had actually come or if it was all pre-come. He seemed like a leaker, judging by the way clear fluid was slowly traveling down from the hard shaft in little drops.
"So… you like?" Robin asked, blushing a bit.
"Not bad," Slade leered.
"What's the next lesson, then?"
"I think we'll call this one 'recess'," the man chuckled and crawled onto the bed himself, covering the teen's body with his own. They kissed and explored each other, Slade taking it slowly because he could sense that even though Robin had displayed some bravado, he was still nervous. He wasn't hesitant, though, not at all… he boldly went exploring, both with his hands and lips, until Slade had a feeling that there wasn't a single part of his body the teen hadn't studied, touched or tasted. He reimbursed him fully, of course, even though he had been down similar paths before. Robin tensed a little as Slade let a finger circle his opening, but the man just kept going and distracted the boy by kissing his neck, which had proved to be very sensitive. He would need lubrication, however, and just saliva wouldn't do for a virgin. Moving away from the writhing, panting body under him was torturous, though. Fortunately the man remembered that he had lotion in his nightstand, something for… lonelier nights, and that might be perfect. He managed to reach for it without disturbing their make-out session too much, and then put a large glob of the stuff on his first two fingers.
"Ah! Cold!" the teen hissed as he felt the lotion.
"I need you to be a bit braver than that…" the man smirked, just continuing with the circling, for now.
The teen's eyes were wide again, and he looked a bit apprehensive, a bit… vulnerable.
"I'm brave… really," he mumbled.
"I'm sure you are," Slade chuckled, and moved down a little. The teen needed a bigger distraction than having his neck kissed.
"Oh… god, are you…?" Robin asked, stunned.
"Yes. But shhh, I need to focus. I'm normally at the receiving end of these things," the man told him.
"Oh… okay, I'm sure you do fiiiin-aaah! Oh, god this feels good! Did it feel this good for you? Oh, my god, why don't people do this all the time? Or do they? Aaaahhhh, oh, man…"
Slade chuckled as Robin started to babble uncontrollably. It was the perfect moment to slip a finger into the boy, and he didn't even notice. Slade stayed clear of the prostate, though, he didn't want the teen to come this soon, and that just might push him over the edge. Besides, he wanted to leave one surprise for later.
Two fingers made Robin clench and moan a bit, but he didn't freeze up. Three fingers and the boy obviously felt the burn, but Slade took it slowly, until his own patience was running out. Robin wouldn't get more relaxed and couldn't be better prepared than he was, so the man quickly got in position, adding a coat of the lotion to his own cock before pushing against the tight entrance. He was quick enough so that Robin barely noticed the change before it was a bit too late to do anything about it.
"AAAH! UUnnggh…" The teen's back arched like his body was trying to make a run for it on its own. Slade knew that mercy was not the rout to take here, however, and buried himself to the hilt in one thrust. Only then did he keep still.
"Let's… let's… do that 'savor the moment'-thing now… please?" the teen gasped.
"Of course. If you want to wait for the really good part to start," the man smirked.
"G-good part?"
"Yes."
"You promise there's a good part, because… when people say 'I feel fucked over'… I kinda know what they mean now…"
"Oh, no you don't… in half an hour or so, though… then you will," Slade smirked and pulled out a little, only to slam right in again. He hit the mark perfectly.
"You… weren't… lying…" the teen gasped as Slade continued to move. "This is… much… better… oh! Oh, yes, right… there!" the teen squirmed again, one heel hooking over Slade's shoulder as he searched for the perfect position. As he found it, he started to push back, matching the man's strokes, grasping the sheets and even placing a hand on the headboard for leverage.
Slade, who had already come, smirked at the teen's desperate struggle to finish.
"Oh, no… not so soon. I want this to me memorable…" he grinned.
"Believe me, I will never forget this," Robin panted. "Hey, what did you do that for?" he added as Slade pulled out of him.
"Time to flip the little pancake boy over," the man told him.
"But I'm not done yet!" Robin objected. His protests were in vain, though; Slade had him on all fours in a moment.
"You are on that side, now for the other," the man chuckled and pushed in again.
Robin didn't seem to mind this one either, but he wriggled his ass more.
"You're not rubbing the good spot that much this way!" he complained.
"I know."
"But why?"
"I don't want you to come so fast," the man smirked, but then blinked as the teen pulled away and then kicked him in the chest. With his balance already being bad, and the move being so completely unexpected, Slade's side hit the bed and then the teen was on top of him. The man had barely time to figure out how to deal with his attacker before he was pushed fully on his back and the teen was sinking down on his shaft, looking down at him very smugly.
"This is much better," Robin grinned.
"Yes, it is, it means you have to do all the work," the man pointed out.
"Crap."
"Get to it."
Even with the initial reluctance Robin really took his newest mission to heart, and Slade had to admit that he had never been ridden like that in his life, by any man or woman. Instead of him controlling how fast they were moving to completion, it was now Robin pulling him along, and the teen only had one setting; full speed ahead. The mercenary decided to give the little killer a hand. Literally. When his hand wrapped around Robin's dripping shaft the teen let out a moan which ended in a low chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Slade asked.
"Well… with everything new going on... I forgot about my cock," the teen almost giggled.
"Not a common thing for a man to do," Slade agreed, but he was secretly glad that his own could give the young man so much stimulation that he really hadn't been looking for more.
Now it all became a little too much for the teen, though, and Slade felt him squeeze him as he threw his head back and cried out his release, most of the evidence of which the man would later have to wash out of his own hair. Slade let his control go as well, gripping the teen's hips as he pushed him down hard all the way as he filled him.
Slade wouldn't go as far as calling it 'cuddling', it was more of a disorderly collapse of two bodies entangled with each other while they tried to regain their breath.
"Mmm… I think I love cuddling…" Robin purred as he pressed himself closer, destroying the man's analysis of the situation.
Slade only snorted, although very softly. More like a short laugh.
"I'm going to miss you," Robin mumbled, sounding half asleep.
"Well…" Slade said and tried to find the right words to propose something he had been thinking about since he left for the mission. "I have a suggestion for you."
"Anything. Trust me. You can have me do anything right now…" the teen said, looking up at him with a lazy grin.
"Good to know. Well, here it is. I've noticed that you are not worthless in your field; in fact you show great potential-"
"I'm amazing, and you know it," Robin snorted.
"You are good," Slade coincided. "Still, you lack a lot of things. Knowledge about the business, for one, and the ability to gain the respect you need-"
"Actually, If I can take that pic with you now, that would really help," Robin suggested.
"It probably would, but what I offer would help more. I'm willing to introduce you to a wide net of contacts, all over the world. Train you in all kinds of disciplines, with all kinds of weapons, let you assist me on missions and even send you on your own… teach you the trade… in short, I'm offering you a place as my apprentice."
"Apprentice?" Robin frowned. "Like a Master-Apprentice thing?"
"That kind of thing, yes," Slade nodded.
"That… that would be so great!" the teen whooped. "Does that mean I get to go with you outside of Gotham?"
"Yes, all over the world," the man smirked, very pleased with the reaction.
"Will you teach me other languages? I always wanted to learn that… I've picked up bits and pieces here and there," Robin babbled.
"I'll teach you, don't worry," the man said.
"Wow… missions all over the world…" the teen's eyes were full of stars. "We'll make a lot of money, won't we?"
"We'll split the money, of course. Eighty-twenty."
"Hey, that's not fair! Fifty-fifty!" Robin objected.
"You will be my student, Robin, and I will take care of all your other costs, food, shelter… you'll get a phone you can actually make a call on… weapons, clothes…"
"Seventy-thirty?" Robin tried. "Remember the tie!"
"Nonnegotiable," Slade said, deciding that he needed to put his food down early in this apprenticeship.
Robin gave him a firm stare for a few moments but then shrugged and sighed.
"Alright… Eighty-twenty…"
"I'm feeling generous… I'll through in free sex," Slade leered.
"Oh, that was generous!" Robin chuckled and cuddled closer. They just stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow. "But Slade?" the teen mumbled eventually.
"Hmm?"
"For twenty… I'm not calling you 'Master'."
The End
A/N. Sooo… did you enjoy the "Black Robin" universe? Yes, I'm calling it a universe, since I've been living in if for about a week or so now…;) I'm… a bit besotted, feels a bit like a "Black Sheep"-vibe, actually… so, if anyone's interested, I can imagine writing more of this, and if you liked it, and have booked a b-day date with me already, let me know…