Delightful Drabbles

by Wynja

SladeRobin drabblecollection, and some Red X now! Both slash and nonslash stories will be listed... mostly slash, though... severe fluffwarnings might be issued.

151. The Bird And His Keeper

A/N: Happy B-day AvatarSatsuki (April 30!)

I got the setup scene for this drabble from the b-day girl as well as the wish that it should be "on the darker side (nothing too harsh though, nice and sexy)". And so I started to write it… and then it got away with me… So AvatarSatsuki, even though I, of course, hope you will like the whole thing, it turned into something a bit more than that first scene you described to me… ;) About the darkness, there are no warnings for this… the main set-up is dark, and some things happens, but it should be safe for everyone to read.

This is AU, with a slightly older teen Robin still as Batman's sidekick, so he never formed the Titans in this world… And Slade is… well… you'll see.

I borrowed a few of my duckling's names for this story… in fact, those who, so far (when I wrote that part on the 22'nd of April), had promised to help me with the 69-competition prizes! I WOULD like to point out, however, that it's just their names I borrowed and not anything else… also I put them randomly as "miss" and "Mrs"… ;)

Oh, and a special thank you to one of my facebook-ducklings, Rvb Fangirl, who helped me out when I needed an rush-order Beta-job on this when I realized I wouldn't have time to read it more than once… she only got a few hours to do it, so I'll take full responsibility if there's any errors left… ;)

EDIT: also thank you to Amirrel for extra edits! ;)

---

The Bird And His Keeper

Robin knew there was something suspicious about the businessman. Slade Wilson, who he had met a few times in social gatherings with Bruce, just gave him that… vibe. That Lex Luthor vibe. The 'I'm a great philanthropist who tortures puppies in my basement' kind of vibe… and the Boy Wonder wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

The Slade Industries building was a difficult one to break into, not only because it was one of the most protected ones in Gotham, but because it was rumored that Slade himself actually lived next to his office. That was probably only hearsay, though, Robin assumed. The guy might have an overnight apartment somewhere in his building, but on the executive floor? Doubtful.

Robin's heart was pounding hard in his chest as he ducked into an office just before the guards turned the corner into the hall outside. The electronic security was one thing; it was tough but Robin knew how to crack it. The guards prowling the halls at irregular intervals were a different matter; if he wasn't careful they might catch him… or give him a heart attack.

He listened at the door and then continued on. If he kept close to the security men it was unlikely that another pair would show up. He hoped.

He knew where he was going; Slade's office. Perhaps it seemed stupid for a villain in disguise to keep something incriminating in his own rooms, but Robin knew better. These people were arrogant to a fault and, as they thought that no one would ever have the guts to challenge them, they kept their secrets close. Suckers.

The electronic lock-pick he had been using the whole time beeped and, at last, he was at his goal. The large corner office stretched out in front of him and the teen shrugged. They all looked the same, really. Maybe they all used the same design-firm. He took in the room which had one more door than the one he had come through. Bathroom? Archive? He'd get to that later. The windows gave him ample chance to escape if he needed to, as some of them could be opened from the inside, and the next buildings over were just within reach for his grapple hook. Good.

Now it was time for the search to begin, and the desk was an obvious place to start. Slade had a huge one, an antique, in carved oak.

"Overcompensating for something, perhaps?" the teen mumbled to himself, smirking. The drawers were suspiciously empty, containing only notepads, pens and the occasional paperclip. The notes and files on top of the desk, arranged in neat stacks, seemed to just concern the company itself, which was involved in import and export, of all things. A business like that just screamed illegal activities, didn't it? No sign of those, though, until he came to the locked drawer.

Bingo.

The electronic lock pick wouldn't work here of course, but he had others. Sitting down in the wide executive leather chair to be able to reach better, he got to work. It took a few minutes as he wasn't used to locks several hundred years old, but then a lovely 'click' was heard, and the teen grinned. The drawer slid open to reveal a single, small card. No matter. It would hold a code or something, Robin was sure. He picked it up, read it and paled.

-Do you remember the second door?-

The teen looked up and gasped as a man was standing right in front of the desk.

"Hello, Robin. Visiting? I can't remember us having an appointment?"

The young hero didn't quite know what to do. He wanted to accuse the tall, wide shouldered, white haired man of something, but, the truth was, he had no idea of what.

"I'm following a lead, Slade," he growled, trying to sound threatening.

"A lead? Oh no, don't get up. In fact, I insist on it," the man told him and gestured for the hero, who was starting to get on his feet, to sit down again. He took a seat in one of the visitor-chairs himself. "Tell me of this lead…"

"Batman-"

"Is not involved. He didn't come with you and I would have known if he had been snooping around. So… want to start over?"

Robin glared, fighting a faint blush. Anyone else would have engaged him in a fight by now, or sent his minions in with machineguns, but that, of course, would be incriminating behavior. Damn, he wished the man would show some of that! It would make him feel better.

"Fine. I'm following a lead. A hunch."

"And I ask again; what hunch?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I do, actually, but fine," the man took out his cell phone which lit up the smug smile on his face. "I don't have Batman's number, of course, but I do have Commissioner Gordon's. He'll get your mentor here, as well as the police… and my lawyers of course."

"Wait... what?" Robin asked worriedly, sitting up straighter.

"Well, you broke the law, young man. This is breaking and entering. Very serious."

"I'm a hero!"

"Ah, so anyone can put on a mask and claim to go through another person's belongings in the name of justice, and this is acceptable behavior? I'd love to see a jury chew over that one."

"That's bullshit, Slade, everyone knows you're up to something!"

"Everyone, hmm? Yes well… I am."

"You are? I mean… what?" Robin caught himself. Villains normally didn't spill their plans until he was tied up under a swinging ax or something like that.

"I'm one of the largest employers in this city, and I'm sure that, if you dug through enough documents, one or two of my executives might have taken a bribe at one point or another. Not something I allow, mind you, but the rules surrounding these things tend to change, and one man's dinner might be another one's crime… Oh, and maybe our recycling-plans aren't working to the fullest capacity. I tell them not to throw envelopes in the paper recycle-bin, but do they listen?"

Robin gaped. Not only was the whole speech unexpected, but the man was looking at him very coldly as he spoke. His words were joking, almost friendly, but his demeanor was not.

"I know there's something else," he said lamely, and the man chuckled.

"And I'm sure the businesses in this city would love to make sure that no one goes through their dirty laundry without a warrant in the future. Batman might be close to untouchable, but you are not. Not at all. Oh, and try not to look so guilty when the press gets here? It won't do you much good at the trial." The man, who had been scrolling through his contacts list, found the number he had been looking for and selected it. Robin heard how it started to ring on the other end and realized that the man had activated the speaker phone.

"Commissioner Gordon?" a grumbling, half sleepy, well known voice answered.

Robin shot from the chair and opened his mouth before he remembered that he didn't want Gordon to hear him.

"Yes, hello. This is Slade Wilson, I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but it seems we have a security breach… and before you refer me to the emergency number, I might as well point out that it's… delicate."

Robin could picture it now; the media, the trial… the possible revelation of his, and Batman's, identities. He reached for the phone and shook his head.

"Delicate?" Gordon asked, his voice suddenly more alert and worried.

"Yes. One moment," Slade put his hand over the phone's speaker and smirked at Robin. "I see that you are worried… well… I have always been one for second chances… would you like one?"

"Yes!" the teen hissed, not considering what that might entail. It didn't matter.

"Then you and I are going to do a little deal," Slade said. "Agreed?"

"Yes," Robin growled this time, his hands opening and closing in tension as he looked at the phone.

"Good boy," the man told him and uncovered the phone again. "Commissioner, are you still there?"

"Yes! What in the blazes is going on?"

"I'm very embarrassed about this, but it seems like our security breach was a false alarm. Please forgive me. Goodnight." With that he hung up on a spluttering old man.

Robin swallowed as the man's single eye landed on him again, almost hungrily.

"If I leave right now, you can't prove I was ever here," he said, wondering if he would have time to get to one of the windows.

"The cameras will," the man pointed out.

"I hacked the camera-system, they are showing loops," Robin snorted.

"That you did, that's how I first knew you were here," the man nodded.

"You knew? The empty desk, you hid something, didn't you?" Robin blurted out.

"Perhaps. Now… you did get rid of the building's security system, but you didn't get rid of mine. You didn't even see those cameras."

"Yours?"

"Mine." The man began to play with his phone again, and soon Robin was shown clips of him entering the building, using the lock pick, hiding from guards. "Looks bad, doesn't it? Now, there are cameras in here as well… So... I have proof that you have been here, if you should be foolish enough to try to run. Now… I will give you a chance to make it seem like you had a legitimate reason to be here."

"How?" Robin asked tensely. He didn't like the look on the man's face.

"There are no sounds recorded with the images, but the art of reading lips is widespread enough so that a lawyer easily could obtain a transcript of what has been said here tonight," Slade began. "The thing is, you cleverly didn't turn on the lights when you came into the office. The images will still be clear enough to tell that it's you and me, but our speech will be hard to read at best… so I suggest we turn on the lights and give the cameras a little show."

"What kind of show?" Robin asked suspiciously.

"Just follow my lead," the man smirked. "Oh, and Robin? Try not to fall out of character, or the deal is off."

A tense nod from the teen later and Slade got up to turn the lights on.

"Thank you, Robin, you have really given my security a run for their money tonight… I'll begin fixing the flaws you pointed out tomorrow," the man said as he walked towards the desk.

The teen drew a huge sigh of relief as he stood up, forcing a smile on his face.

"No problem, glad to do it," he grinned, walking around the desk to face his enemy.

"I'm now standing so the cameras can't see my mouth. Keep that smile on your face. Your answer to my next question will be 'because I wanted to see you'," the man instructed him very quickly before turning slightly again. "Why are you still in my office, though?"

"Because… because I wanted to see you," Robin said. It was a good thing that there was no sound, as he wasn't very convincing.

"I've missed you too. Spend the night with me."

"Wh-what?"

"Keep up the act and kiss me like you mean it," the man said, his lips not even moving, and then the teen was suddenly pulled close. "Remember the deal."

Robin gasped as the man's lips crashed into his, and the businessman took every advantage of that. Robin's arms flailed somewhat, but a warning sound from Slade and the man's own arms wrapping around him, made the teen copy his move.

It was surreal to say the least, and the teen's head spun. The man was an amazing kisser, a deep down part of him acknowledged, but that was really no excuse for making him do this. Robin liked men, and Slade was his type, but how would Slade even know he was gay? He couldn't! And he didn't seem to care one bit.

"Bedroom, now," the man said and steered him towards the other door. "I'm going to fuck you hard and fast… just the way you like it."

Before Robin had time to even consider objecting he was ushered through the door and into a decorative personal apartment. Seemed the rumors were true after all. Slade didn't pause in herding him through it and into a very luxurious bedroom.

"I'm not doing anything with you, and especially not on camera!" the teen hissed through his teeth.

"There are no cameras in here," Slade smirked and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Good. Goodbye."

"Now you are going to do it because I have proof of you breaking into my building."

"But the footage from the office proves I didn't!" Robin objected with a snort.

"Who says there really were cameras in there at all?" the man countered with a wider smirk.

"This is rape," the hero snarled.

"And if there are cameras in there, those prove that you were willing," the man shrugged. "Who are you going to tell, Robin? What story do you want flaunted to the media? Robin the burglar or Robin the rape-victim?" Slade asked silkily, shrugging his shirt off completely. "Now… undress quickly and I'm going to do you a favor."

"What favor?" the teen growled. "Going to be gentle with me?" he added sarcastically.

"Not particularly… but I'm going to let you keep your mask on."

That motivation, unfortunately, worked. Robin snarled in frustration as he unclasped his cape. There had to be a way out of this, probably several, if he just got a moment to think things through, but that was just it; Slade made sure he didn't have that time. Instead the man had finished undressing, which made Robin blush and, very demonstratively, look in a completely different direction, while he continued shedding gloves, boots, belts and his tunic.

"Perfect…" the man purred in delight and grabbed him, throwing him on the bed. Slade was on top of him in an instant, making the teen gasp as he pushed at the man's chest with his hands to at least try to put the inevitable off for a little longer.

"I wanted this for quite some time," Slade told him.

"M-me?" Robin asked, hating how his voice hitched.

"Yes. You. But you weren't legal… so good of you to turn up just days after your birthday…" Slade kissed him again, and Robin felt one of his hands on his hips, pushing his tights down. He clutched at that arm, the bulging muscle under his hand rock hard. And that was not the only thing hard. That desk must have been the decorator's choice, because Slade obviously didn't have anything to overcompensate for at all.

Robin had had no idea the man was this built. The suits gave him a very nice silhouette, but covered up the bulging muscles and rippling abs. The strength he showed was humbling enough; Slade handled him like he weighed as much as a ragdoll and any resistance the hero managed to put up might as well have been from one. Robin bit his lip, trying to gather his errant mind. Appreciative thoughts had no place here; after all, the man was about to-

"NNNggh!" the teen's spine snapped into a rigid bow as a finger, slicked with something, pushed inside him. He hadn't even noticed his tights being pulled all the way down.

"So tight. Have you even done this before?" he heard the man ask in a husky voice.

"None… of…. your… business…." the teen growled, squirming as the finger moved inside him, the alien feeling both terrible and exciting at once.

No, he hadn't done this before, but that wasn't so strange, Robin defended himself. He had after all been homeschooled for most of his life and had not gone away to university either, so the amount of people he met was rather limited. And hitting on guys as Robin was of course out of the question. Still, he wasn't entirely out of prospects, he knew a gay man or two, and then there was the son of a diplomat he had met on parties a few times. Robin wasn't completely sure the young man was gay, however, or if he was just being… foreign. He did have a type, though, and, as mentioned, Slade fit it. Taller than him. Physically fit. Intelligent. And with enough money so he could be sure he wasn't a gold-digger. Evil rapist bastard, though, that didn't fit.

"That's a no, then… maybe you should have tried to barter for gentleness as well," the man chuckled. "Although I'm not sure I would comply…"

A second finger pushed into him as well. Robin tried to close his legs, but it was too late, as the man was already between them. His move only lifted his ass up a little, so the fingers had better access.

"Little slut…" the man purred and curled his digits. For a second the teen almost wanted to agree with him, because his body was struck by an awesome sensation and he moaned, clutching the man's neck. Before the rush had died down, the fingers disappeared and the pressure against his opening increased ten fold.

"N… no, please I-aaah!" the teen cried out as he was breeched, tears forming behind his mask.

The man paused, but it didn't seem to be for Robin's benefit, more for his own; to savor the moment. It helped the teen, though, as he felt the initial pain die down to a dull burning. Gulping down air, he had his eyes closed tight against the world, but it all came crashing back into him with the movement of Slade's hips.

The thrusts were, as the man had promised, hard and fast. The young hero had expected the pain, even though he thought it would be worse, but not the reluctant need that had begun to rise inside him, going as far as thickening his cock. The man paused to look down, and Robin felt humiliated at the smirk stretching the man's lips when he realized that Slade must have felt his member against his lower stomach.

"My, my, little bird… not that little after all, are you?"

"NNgh!" Robin tried to push the man's hand away, when it wrapped around his length, but the thrusting started up again, and it was like all his strength seeped out of him, his head falling down against the pillows again with a frustrated groan.

Slade's hand working him in time with his thrusts, the man's strong, talented fingers teasing his cock, his thumb flicking over the head was almost more than he could take. As Slade's other hand then moved around his hip, lifting his ass up, getting the angle just right… Robin found himself screaming as his body committed its final betrayal by milking his blackmailer's seed from his body, begging for every drop while it writhed and shook in lust.

If Robin had ever wished for death, it was now. At least to be able to just disappear… but he couldn't. He had to open his eyes and face the world. As he did, he got hit in the face by his bunched up tights.

"Get dressed and get out."

"Gladly," Robin growled and pulled on his clothes in record time.

"I'll call the security. They will let you out," Slade told him, reclining on the bed, still completely naked, with his phone in hand.

"No, thank you. I'll manage," the teen spat out very coldly. He refused to be seen leaving this place. If anyone even suspected… talk about 'walk of shame'…

He hurried into the office instead and left through a window. He needed a shower. A really, really long shower. And possibly a good cry as well.

---

A week went by and Robin stayed well clear of a certain building, even on routine patrols. Regrettably, that very evening, his alter ego wasn't that fortunate. He and Bruce were to attend an art-auction where the rich and famous would bid against each other for the sake of… well, Robin knew the cause was for orphans, but he doubted the rest of them cared. For them it was for the sake of being seen. That crowd, however, meant there was a great risk that Slade Wilson would be there. Robin hoped he had studied Bruce long enough to be able to pull off a perfectly blank face, because he knew he would have to mingle in the same room as the man. If he was lucky he wouldn't have to speak to him, though.

Fifteen minutes into the viewing, the teen relaxed. There was no sign of a certain businessman, and he was now busy talking to a small group of women about abstract art. They were standing in front of a painting by a modern local artist, a rising star on the art sky, who, Robin decided, couldn't paint worth a damn. The ladies seemed impressed, however.

"There is a certain power in it, though, isn't it?" one of them said and peered at a random splash of green.

"I quite agree, ladies," a dark voice said behind them and Robin just managed to stifle a gasp.

"Oh, Mr. Wilson! Looking stunning as ever!" The woman's face suddenly matched her very pink dress.

"Miss Mead, you flatterer you," Slade chuckled. "Mrs. Perez, a pleasure. Miss Kirstensen, Mrs. Rosario, you all brighten these kind of events… you are the sole reason I attend, I assure you," he smiled very, very, charmingly.

"Yes, I didn't think you had any interest in art," Robin mumbled. Unfortunately Slade heard him.

"Oh, I have a certain fondness for pretty little things, Mr. Grayson," the man said and reached his hand out. "I believe we met at the Winter Ball a few months ago, didn't we?"

"Yes, pleased to meet you again, Sir," Robin ground out, putting on his most polite mask while they shook hands.

"You never forget a face, do you, Mr. Wilson?" Miss Kirstensen beamed.

"That's right. It's a blessing when it comes to the present company, but can be a curse as well… after all, there's old Mr. Berg over there…"

The women giggled and Robin wanted to roll his eyes as he could practically hear the eyelashes fluttering. Some of them were married for god's sake!

Still, any distractions were good distractions, and now he might be able to just slip away.

"What do you think this looks like, Mr. Wilson?" Mrs. Perez asked, gesturing at the painting.

"Well, I think art should be interpreted by the individual… but I will tell young Mr. Grayson here what I think, and we'll see if he agrees with me, shall we?"

The next moment Robin found the man whispering in his ear.

"I think it looks like you… on your knees… sucking me off."

The teen couldn't help a gasp and an angry blush, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

"Oh, Mr. Wilson, what did you say to him! He looks positively scandalized!"

"That, my dear Miss Mead, is our little secret I think," Slade smirked. "Unless he would like to share?"

"Um… I… no…" Robin stammered.

"Ah, spoilsport…" Mrs. Rosario muttered.

Slade bent closer to Robin's ear once more.

"Upstairs bathroom, ten minutes, don't be late."

"It's such a shame he's gay," Robin heard one of the women sigh as they watched Slade walk away.

"I heard he was bi," another one claimed.

"Wishful thinking, honey…" Miss Kirstensen, the apparent pessimist in the group, sighed. "Still, it doesn't hurt to look. Does it, Mr. Grayson?"

"Huh? What! I wasn't-"

"Oh, your eyes were glued to his back," he was told and he left the group with the ladies snickering and speculating.

Robin's chest felt like ice as he climbed the stairs a little later. As he entered the men's bathroom, the door closed with a click behind him, and he spun around.

"Skeleton key. Useful," Slade smirked and pocketed the thing. "Now… where were we? Yes… on your knees."

"I won't! I've done my part of the deal!" Robin hissed.

"Ah, but we never specified any deal. The deal is, dear boy, that I get you. Anytime and anywhere I desire. Understood… Robin?"

"I… you…" But Robin knew he was beaten. He had known it from the moment Slade had whispered those words in his ear.

"Now kneel, or I will fuck you as well… and that means you will be sitting in a growing stain of my seed the whole auction… people will be able to smell it on you…"

Robin felt like gagging as his knees hit the tiles. The man made him fish his member out and then go slowly. Robin would have preferred to just shove the thing down his throat and hope for a quick cum, but Slade made him lick… taste… caress. After fifteen minutes or so, however, the man seemed to grow impatient and grabbed the teen's hair, forcing his thick length down the untrained throat until Robin found himself fighting for breath. The businessman fucked his face harshly for a few minutes before pulling almost all the way out.

"Swallow, or I'll smear it in your hair," he told Robin, and then the teen felt something bitter and salty on his tongue. He gulped desperately, knowing the threat wasn't an empty one, and was then made to lick the man clean as well.

"Good boy. I knew I'd have use of you," the man told him and looked him over. The smirk on his face widened and then he tucked himself in and left.

Robin picked himself up from the floor and hurried to the closest faucet to rinse his mouth. When he leaned against the counter, however, he, with a cry of disgust and shame, discovered what Slade just had; he was hard.

Self-loathing was a feeling Robin hadn't been familiar with before now, not beyond 'how could I have eaten the whole plate of cookies?' or 'how could I have missed that easy target?' and that was not very much like the real deal at all. The rest of the night dragged on, especially as he discovered that he and Bruce had been seated next to Slade in the auction room. He tried to ignore the man, even though he could feel him against his arm, the chairs being so close together. He only bid on one item; a ceramic bird which just happened to be a robin and looked very life like. He had an opponent, but outbid him… and then Slade raised his own paddle. Robin didn't counter the bid.

"I'm surprised you didn't fight for that bird," Bruce said on the car ride home that night. "I thought you admired that artist."

"I do… the price was just getting too high," Robin told him.

"Wilson seemed to feel sorry about winning, he invited us to his house down on the coast for lunch tomorrow," the man told him.

"Wh-what? Why?"

"To show off his new buy, I'm sure. He's a bit of a jerk," the man grinned. "There will be quite a few people there, some sort of 'saving the coastline'-thing, I haven't had time to read up on it."

"Do we have to go?"

"Have to? No, but I all but promised," the man said, and that was pretty much it. The playboy kept his word just as much as the hero.

When the morning came, however, Robin had not slept a wink, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn't go, he just couldn't. Like a saving angel, Alfred spotted what he thought was the oncoming of the flu and sent him back to bed, sending Bruce off to the lunch by himself. Robin, who wasn't sick but had all but made himself so, slept fitfully, but when his mentor returned with no word from the businessman and showing no sign that anything was wrong, the teen relaxed. Alfred grudgingly let him out of bed for the evening, concluding that the teen's paleness probably just had been fatigue, but he was denied joining his mentor out in Gotham that night, which Robin, for once in his life, actually didn't mind.

He woke up after a deep, healing sleep, feeling a little better for the sunshine dancing against his skin. That was the moment he felt the arm around him, from the person pressed up against this back. Robin didn't have to play the 'guess who' game there. It was too easy.

"H-how did… How did you get in?" he asked, trying to get out of the man's ever tightening hold.

"Settle down, little bird. Bruce let me in."

"Wh-what?"

"Yes. We had a talk, and I let him know that you and I have… an understanding."

"No! No, you can't tell him! You can't, I-" Robin tried to kick and punch his way free now, but he was caught up in the sheets and the hits he did manage to get in didn't seem to bother the man at all.

"Either he knows or the world does… and the world will find out more than that; they will find out who the heroes of Gotham really are. Besides, this is what happens when you stand me up. Now stop struggling. You know you don't have a choice."

Slade pushed him over fully on his stomach and before Robin knew it, he had been impaled again. He buried his face in the pillow to muffle his groans as the man rose up a little and lifted the teen's hips with him. Face down and ass in the air he got a pounding that made his so normally solid bed creak. Robin prayed to any god that would listen that it couldn't be heard from outside the room.

He groaned as Slade suddenly grabbed his neck and made him sit up on his lap, moaning as he sank even further down on the wide pole inside him.

"There… I need to reach you… you made me feel so good last time you came," the man half whispered in his ear, and then had Robin standing on his knees and bracing himself against the wall. Once again his cock was stroked by that skilled hand, and while Robin fought the rising pleasure inside him, it overcame him quickly enough. He was so close, so very close, when Slade suddenly let go, grabbing his hips instead and upping the pace.

"Come. I want you to come without me not even touching you… just from the feeling of my cock inside you," the man purred.

Robin would have given his soul to be able to resist, but he was too near the edge and every thrust clipped his prostate.

"AAhh! Ahh… ggg….god!" he cried out as he soiled the sheets beneath him, just as he felt the warmth of the man's cum inside.

They both caught their breath for a moment, and then Slade withdrew with a lewd plopping noise which made the teen turn beet red.

"The shower is through here, I assume?" Slade asked, pointing at the door to the ensuite. When Robin gave a curt nod, the man continued, "Join me."

It was an order, and Robin was too tired of getting reminded of what would happen if he refused, so he simply obeyed. The man seemed to enjoy running his hands over him, but nothing else happened, which the teen was grateful for. He threw on some clothes as quickly as he could afterwards, while Slade took his time grooming and dressing himself, finishing off by tying his tie and attaching gold cufflinks before donning his jacket.

"Thank you for a lovely morning Rob- oh, excuse me; Richard. You will be a good host and see me out, won't you?"

The teen didn't say a word as he led the man down the wide double staircase, but halted as he saw the shadow of Bruce standing in the doorway to the library. Robin lowered his head as he passed him and waited for Slade to finally leave. The man didn't seem to be in a particular rush, however.

"Bruce, before I forget, we must have dinner tomorrow."

"I don't think-"

"No, you misunderstand. We must. Because you will bring your lovely ward. Plaza hotel, eight o'clock. And don't worry; I'll bring him home after I'm done with him. Good day."

Robin had frozen to the spot and just stood there as the front door opened and closed.

"Dick? I think we need to have a talk," Bruce told him, his voice deceptively calm.

---

"So it's blackmail," Bruce concluded after Robin had told him the whole story, sans details. They were sitting across from each other in the library, although the older man looked like he wanted to pace. "Thank god for that, at least… at first when he told me I thought-"

"No! No, I didn't want it!" the teen exclaimed.

"He's handsome, charming and charismatic, you wouldn't be the first young person to be attracted to him… if you had been, that is. I'm glad you're not. I mean, it's terrible that you-"

"I understand what you mean," Robin mumbled, looking at his knees.

"We'll figure something out," Bruce tried to comfort him.

"He knows about us, and he has the footage… or not, I don't know. The only parts I saw were of me breaking in, and that's bad enough… I just thought… I had a hunch he was up to no good…"

"Of course he is," the Bat snorted. "Slade became far too rich far too quickly, but he has been investigated before. He doesn't appear to be any dirtier than the average big businessman. Cleaner, in fact, and that's even more suspicious…"

They sat in silence for a while.

"Well," Bruce shrugged and then sighed. "Batman couldn't last forever, I always knew that. I'm only human after all, and-"

"No! No, you can't quit! We make a difference out there, we are symbols for people! Don't pretend you are beginning to feel too old, because you're not. Besides, even if we did… all our 'civilian' friends and Wayne industries itself would be in danger… just because you quit doesn't mean the Joker, Two-face and the rest of them will!"

"I know, I know, but I just can't let you go through this!" Bruce told him. "I will try to get my hands on the images, I can promise you that much."

"Electronically recorded; copies would take seconds to make and I'm sure he has hundreds of them by now…" Robin muttered. "He even has them on his phone."

"I'm willing to bet he only accessed the files through his phone and that they are stored elsewhere. Besides, maybe he's feeling so confident that he hasn't gotten around to making copies yet," the man insisted.

"Yeah… it's a billion to one chance, but sure…" Robin muttered.

"I could always kill him."

"Bruce!"

"Just say the word."

Robin met the man's eyes and knew he was speaking the absolute truth. The man who even avoided guns, who believed in justice even when things got personal, a founding member of the Justice League… Robin couldn't do that to him, it would be too much to ask.

"No."

"If it gets to be too much… if he hurts you even worse…"

"I won't ask that of you," Robin said firmly and then smirked. "I might need an alibi, though."

Bruce didn't smirk at all as he answered. "You got it. And it's not about our identities; I'm worried about you, not what he's threatening to reveal. In my book you have the right to defend yourself… to the fullest degree."

"Thank you… I'm… I'm alright, though. So far… and I mean, how much longer could it last?"

---

Dinner the next night was a strangled affair. Slade had made it very clear to the both of them that he wanted it to look like a casual business-dinner and that they shouldn't draw attention to themselves by sulking.

Slade had to keep the conversation going, though, and Robin joined in as little as he possibly could. As coffee was served, Slade slid a card key across the table to the teen.

"Here. Go wait for me in this room. Get naked. I'll be with you in about ten minutes. And, oh, there's a present for you on the bed," he said in a low voice, but not low enough so that Bruce couldn't hear.

Robin locked his blank face firmly into place again, pocketed the card and headed towards the lobby.

When he reached the room he undressed and glared at the wrapped gift on the bed. He wanted to throw it out the window or at least ignore it, but it really wasn't worth the hassle. He lifted the lid and removed the scrunched up silk paper. It was the ceramic robin, Of course. He didn't bother picking it out of the box and just moved the whole thing to the nightstand before getting under the sheets.

Slade arrived exactly on time a few minutes later.

"Ah, you, naked, eagerly waiting for me in bed. Quite a beautiful sight," the man purred. "Did you like the gift?"

"You can keep it."

"No. You'll put it on the dresser in your room," the man told him.

"Why would I want to do that?" the teen snorted.

"Just a reminder of who your owner is," the man smirked.

"Fuck you."

"In such a hurry?" the man chuckled as he began to undress.

"How long will this blackmail go on?" Robin decided to ask.

"Until I'm bored."

"And how long will that be?" the teen insisted.

"If I had known that I could have given you a date," the man snorted. "A week… a month… a year…?"

"A year?" Robin sat up straight in bed, obviously ready to leave that instant.

"How long is a normal prison sentence for burglary and industrial espionage?" Slade asked rhetorically.

"I wasn't spying!"

"Oh, but when they find you that you are also Richard Grayson, ward of one of the other big businessmen in Gotham, I think people will start asking questions…" the man shrugged and pulled away the covers before Robin had time to snatch at them, baring the teen completely. "Now, my dear young spy… let's punish you a little, shall we?"

---

Slade had his own car waiting outside for him, behind the hotel so it wouldn't be spotted so easily. Robin was surprised, however, when the man got into the backseat with him.

Slade saw the questioning look and shrugged. "I'm just being a gentleman."

"Yeah, sure. You," Robin snorted.

"Wintergreen?" the man called to his driver.

"Yes, Sir?"

"To Wayne Manor please, and… take the scenic route."

"Should I put up the partition, Sir?"

"Please do."

"What scenic route?" Robin asked suspiciously, as the black, soundproof glass rose into position, cutting them off from the driver.

Slade didn't answer him, but flicked a switch, and all of a sudden the backrest of the wide seat folded backwards, creating a large, flat, lather-padded surface, just like a-

"No? Not again?"

"What can I say? It turns me on when you are rude to me," the man smirked like a shark spotting a group of blind seals.

---

The next day Slade's driver appeared at Wayne manor with another gift. This time it was a cell phone, just like the one Slade used. Robin didn't have to try very hard to figure out why the man wanted him to have it. He also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it if he didn't pick up when the man called.

Sighing he trudged down to the Batcave where Bruce had been busy since he came home from the dinner, and now had some good news.

"I've found the file. I don't know if it's the only one, but it's on Slade's personal hard-drive, which means it's not connected to the company… so no daily backups… I hope," the detective said.

"So… what are we going to do?" Robin asked.

"This," Bruce growled and chose 'delete'.

"Wait, don't-" Robin had time to say but then the file was gone. And then his phone rang.

"Yes?" he answered, trying to sound casual.

"Your mentor, at least I'm pretty sure it was him and not you, has just done something naughty," Slade informed him. "Is he there?"

"I-" Robin considered playing ignorant, but then thought better of it. "Yes."

"Put me on speakerphone."

"Done," the teen muttered.

"Bad Batman! Did you think it would be so easy?" Slade chided the Dark Knight. "I assure you that the files, several copies of them, are well out of your reach."

"I'll find a way!" Batman growled.

"Ah, well. Poor Robin."

"What do you mean?" the detective asked as the teen swallowed.

"I'm going to punish him, of course. There's a car arriving at your gates in a few minutes, boy, to take you to my office. Make sure you are on time. Go."

Robin knew he didn't have a moment to lose so he just disconnected the call and ran. Bruce was shouting something after him, but it didn't matter. He didn't need apologies or encouragement right now; he had to save his own personal world.

The car took him into an underground garage and drove all the way to the very back of the huge, dark space. The driver, Wintergreen again, then pushed in a code to an elevator and gestured to the teen to get inside, although he didn't follow himself.

The floor was already set and the ride seemed to take forever. As the doors parted Slade was waiting outside, and, only a few steps from there, was the door to his office. It occurred to Robin that no one had seen him come in here, and he was glad at least Bruce knew where he was.

The office doors locked behind them.

"Push your trousers down and lean over the desk," Slade told him.

"So you are going to fuck me on your desk. How original," the teen muttered but obeyed as he just wanted this over with so he could go home.

Slade chuckled and came to stand right behind him, one of his hands caressing the teen's ass.

"I'm not going to fuck you," he then said, and Robin heard something being picked up from the desk before a band of fire exploded across his behind.

"AH!"

"I'm afraid this also lacks in originality, but you had me pressed for time. Tell me if you plan to be rebellious again, and I'll prepare something more… unique."

With every other word the man let another strike fall, only taking a little break to show Robin what was causing his pain; a long, thick, plastic ruler.

Strike after strike landed on his skin, from the top of his thighs to the lower of his back. The man angled the ruler, never hitting the exact same spot twice, and crossing the marks, until Robin's ass looked like it had been covered with red crosshatches.

The teen was ashamed of himself but he was crying out with every hit now, after having tried to hold back at first, and tears were streaming down his face. He refused to beg the man to stop, however, but after a while, thankfully, he did.

"My, don't you have a pretty red ass?" Slade chuckled as Robin tried to wipe the tears off his face without the man noticing. "Hmm… I know I said I wouldn't fuck you, but since you are already here and bent over…"

---

Weeks went by. Sometimes Slade wouldn't be in touch for days, sometimes he seemed to demand Robin's constant attention. The teen found himself standing in dark alleys wearing a hoodie, waiting for the man's car to pick him up, or sneaking out through the back of hotels.

Slade had made Bruce start up a small collaboration-project between their companies to publicly explain his visits both to Wayne Manor, and the business-dinners. Robin attended most of them, of course, and the story the media was fed was that he was being taught the ropes in the family business. Slade had laughed and joked quite crudely with Bruce about what that might entail.

In his Robin-costume it was easier to sneak around, but the hero hated when Slade called him while on patrol. Not only because the man disrupted his life even more that way, but because he simply felt dirtier, somehow, when Slade used him as Robin. He wondered dryly sometimes if he was developing a split personality. In that case at least one of the personalities was a sex-addict, because lately a photo of the man in the papers could get him half hard. He didn't like Slade any better, but something was, undoubtedly, beginning to change.

Their meetings varied in length from ten minute-quickies to hours of marathon sex. This was the first time they had spent a whole night together, however, and that was only because Robin had fallen asleep and Slade had apparently decided not to kick him out, as they were in the man's apartment and the risk of discovery was very slim.

"Good morning," the teen heard the businessman say, waking him up.

"Errgghuumm…" Robin muttered into his pillow. The damn man had made him come five times last night… or was it six? It was far too many than could be healthy, anyway, and he felt wrung out.

"No need to thank me, it was my pleasure," the man chuckled. "However, Robin… I'm getting bored."

The teen's head shot up. "What? Really? Great!"

"I'm bored of the secrecy. I'm going to make our relationship public."

"What? NO! You can't do that!" Robin objected. "That wasn't the deal!"

"You appear to have forgotten the deal," Slade pointed out. "'Anytime and anywhere', remember? And with having to plan for us not to be seen together… it hampers me. Sometimes I don't have time to see you for several days."

"I know! That is great!" Robin exclaimed. "There must be a reason you wanted to keep this quiet in the first place!"

"Yes, it was mainly as a favor to you… but, as I said, I'm bored."

"Come on, Slade…" Robin pleaded now, "I broke into your company once and only like a little bit," the teen demonstrated how much he figured he had broken in between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't think I deserve being dragged in front of the media and shown off as your… play-thing!"

"Hmmm… can I be honest with you?" the man asked, as he stretched out leisurely beside the teen.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" the teen muttered.

"The truth is, the break-in didn't change anything."

"Ummm… yeah, it did! That's how this thing started!" Robin objected.

"No. Do you remember when I told you that I had wanted you for quite some time?"

"Yeah?"

"I had also known about yours and Batman's identities for quite some time… and I planned to approach you on that charity art auction. You just beat me to it."

"What, so if I hadn't broken in…?"

"You would still have woken up in my bed this morning, yes," the man smirked.

Robin's head swam a little. What Slade had told him both changed everything and nothing. He didn't need to blame himself for his situation anymore, which was great, but it also made him feel even more trapped. He wasn't being punished, he was just caught.

Robin narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, and should I die mysteriously my lawyers have their instructions," the man told him.

"I would never-!"

"You were thinking it just now."

"Fine. Maybe I was. But, hey, that lawyer thing isn't fair! I mean, there must be lots of people besides me who hate your guts! Lots and lots and lots and-"

"I think I got your point. Let's just say that they would have to work for it."

"What do you mean?"

"My secret, my little bird…" the man smirked.

Robin arched an eyebrow, suddenly interested, but curiosity had to wait.

"Fine. I won't kill you, but no dating!"

"What an amazing ultimatum," the man laughed. "No deal."

"I can't believe you…." Robin muttered into his hands.

"I know, I'm pretty unbelievable," Slade smirked. "So, our first date… does the Rose Gardens tonight at eight sound good?"

"No."

"Good. I was at my tailor's the other day and saw a suit that would be perfect for you. I'll send it over this afternoon."

"Fantastic. Couldn't we at least go to a more out-of-the-way place?" the teen asked.

"No, if we are clearly dating but sneaking around, the press will have a field day… in the open is the only way to go to avoid any nasty rumors and scandal headlines. I have my image and company to consider, after all."

"Oh, yes, important stuff. Don't bother about my image," Robin snorted.

"I think you will find it greatly improved by associating with me," the man smirked.

"Sure I will," Robin sat up and dangled his feet over the edge of the bed, trying to find the energy to stand. "I'm taking a shower," he announced. "Alone."

"Aw, but you shouldn't have to do that, I'll join you," the man purred.

"Just showering, no sex."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're horny?"

Robin decided to change tactics. "Yes, Slade, please suck me off."

"And hungry too? Well, we will have to see to that as soon as possible."

"I just can't win, can I?" Robin sighed.

"Finally realizing that, are you?" Slade chuckled.

---

The Rose Garden was an actual rose garden, inside a giant greenhouse which was kept at a pleasant temperature, with a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the fragrant plants. It was absolutely beautiful and romantic, so it was a pity that he was there with Slade. He also was very aware of the looks they had gotten from the moment Slade had helped him out of the car. This particular restaurant, their small, private table and the way the man was acting made it very clear that this wasn't a business-meeting, exactly as Slade had intended.

The food was lovely, the music from the live string orchestra was beautiful but soft enough not to drown out the conversation, unfortunately, and Slade… was charming. Robin found himself grinning and even laughing several times before he managed to remember himself. He tried to tell himself that only a true sociopath could be this nice, considering their unique circumstances, but it only helped temporarily. Maybe it was because they had never talked before. On the other dinners it had been mostly business topics and when Bruce had attended, he and Slade had done most of the talking. The rest of the time, it was just fucking, no real conversation needed.

When they entered the car Robin saw some camera flashes. Paparazzi always haunted the area outside restaurants like these, after all, but he hoped this date wouldn't be deemed interesting enough to publish… although one of the city's richest and most powerful men dating the son of the other one…? Yeah, sooner or later it would hit the news.

"So…" Slade said as the car rolled off. "Your place or mine?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't have sex on the first date," Robin drawled.

Slade threw his head back and laughed.

"That was cute. That was really cute," he chuckled. "Wintergreen, to Wayne Manor, please."

"Yes, Sir," the driver nodded and changed lanes.

"Soo… my place?" Robin asked, cringing. He didn't like it when they were at the manor, because Slade would never sneak in, and the looks on Bruce's and Alfred's faces were really painful. Robin had to forcefully stop their old butler from getting an old hunting rifle down from the attic when he had first been told what was going on.

"No, I think you're right… I don't want to date a slut, after all. What are your views on second dates?"

Robin was so stunned that he only blinked for a moment. "Ummm… I'm… Actually I'm against sex on dates until the hundredth or so…" he finally said.

"Funny. Second date it is," the man decided.

"Weeeell…. Isn't the third date more traditional?" Robin asked innocently, getting an amused smirk from the man.

"Ever the negotiator? Fine. Third date."

"Really?"

"Yes, I only have time for a quick lunch-date tomorrow anyway," the man revealed, making Robin feel slightly cheated. Still, you took what you could, and from this man it would never be much…

"Okay."

When they pulled up in front of the manor gates Slade helped him out of the car again.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, it makes me look like a girl," Robin rumbled.

"Always the gentleman," Slade grinned and then pulled him close. "So… no sex, but that doesn't mean I'll leave without a kiss…"

"I didn't think you would," Robin mumbled and lifted his head, closing his eyes as the man leaned in. The kiss lasted for a good three minutes or so, before the man obviously decided that he had gotten his money's worth. Robin had tried to pay for his part of the dinner, but he had been informed that it was futile to even ask.

---

The next morning Robin almost choked on his scrambled eggs as the whole first page of the gossip-section of the newspaper was covered by a photo of him and Slade kissing outside Wayne Manor. The image was taken with some kind of night-filter and it was mostly their silhouettes, but it was still clear enough who they were, especially with the big 'W's' in the iron-wrought gates. Large letters proclaimed 'Love Is In The Air!'. The word 'Love' was in the colors of the rainbow.

"He knew!"

"What?" Bruce, who had thankfully not seen the paper yet as he had just sat down at the table, asked.

Robin waved the offensive piece of journalism in front of him.

"This! He agreed just to kiss me last night! He must have known the paparazzi were following us and that it would 'better' if he just dropped me off with a kiss… the sneaky, fucking bastard!"

"Master Richard!" Alfred, who just came in to refill the plates for Bruce, scoffed.

"I'm talking about Slade," the teen explained.

"Oh, in that case, go right ahead, young man," the butler nodded approvingly. "I can't find any fault with that description, after all."

Robin, who was browsing through the text, groaned. "They even knew what we ordered… I hate the media."

"They are a necessary evil, I'm afraid. And I hate to say it, but better in the open like this…"

"That's what Slade said," Robin growled.

"Oh. Sorry. But at least the story has a positive angle now. Trust me, it could have been much, much worse. I've learned that the hard way."

"Oh, yeah, can't you start dating someone again?" Robin asked. "Then they won't bother with us!"

"I think the story of a gay couple outweighs a straight," Bruce shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because people are perverts."

Robin's new phone rang shortly after, with a smug Slade on the other end of the line.

"So what do you think? A very nice angle, I have to say, I probably won't have to get in touch with any of my media contacts."

"Yes. Wonderful," Robin said coldly, and then a thought struck him. "Oh, god, I've just been outed to the whole of Gotham! I haven't told anyone but my family that I'm gay!"

"You're gay?" Slade asked curiously.

Robin hung up on him.

---

As much as Robin loathed his own phone, over the next two weeks he was beginning to love Slade's. It would, after all, ring quite often, and sometimes it pulled the man away from their dates, leaving Robin free for the rest of the evening. One gossip reporter saw this happen once, sadly, and wrote about how Robin had seemed heartbroken that his lover would have to leave, and how hard it must be to be in love with a busy businessman. People commented on the article and twittered quite a lot about how Slade should put Robin before business after that, and at least the collective scolding brought a grin to the teen's lips, even though he didn't agree with them.

His life was busier than ever. He had begun taking some orientation classes at the university, choosing sociology and law for starters. He had considered psychology, figuring that that might help him with his unwanted lover, but then decided that there were some things he was better off not knowing…

Besides classes, he was still Robin, and then there was Slade… The man was driving him insane at times, but, so far, he hadn't been able to figure a way out of it. He must eventually tire, he figured, as he had done some research on him, and the men and women he had been seen with very rarely lasted more than a few weeks. Robin was the record, but he was sure it would be over soon. It had to be.

Frustration was what had driven him out into Gotham tonight, even though Batman had some Bruce-duties and couldn't join him. To be completely frank Robin was looking for a fight. Nothing too big; three or four guys or so, just to vent his frustrations. Amazingly his wishes came true as he saw four men carrying things out from a warehouse to a van. Now, there was nothing illegal about that, but the doors on the warehouse had been forced open, and the van… yup, a quick check on his wrist computer confirmed it as stolen. Not the Boy Scouts preparing for a hike, then. Great.

"Hello guys, need some help?" he grinned as he dropped down just in front of them. "Because I happen to know where prison is, and that's where you want to be, right? Not out here in scary, scary Gotham, getting your asses kicked?"

"Is that a little birdie I hear?" a somewhat screeching voice rang out from behind Robin, coming from inside the warehouse.

The teen spun around, swear words running through his mind a mile a minute. The Joker. The Joker and what looked like a good thirty of his clowns. This was not what he had bargained for.

"Who let you out of the nuthouse, smiley?" Robin smirked.

"Oh, that was rude. And here I had planned to just shoot you," the man grinned, although, to be fair, he usually did that. "Let's bring him inside, boys," he added, and the men attacked, using what they had, from fists to crowbars.

Robin held his own in the beginning, but there were too many of them and he had to get away before he had taken too many hits. He drew his grapple hook and was flying through the air the next instant.

"Clip his wings!" he heard the Joker shout, and a burst of gunfire ripped through the air.

The teen tensed, but they weren't aiming for him; they were aiming for the cord, and they did a good job. The sound of it snapping was a horrible one, and, as he wasn't too high up yet, he didn't have time to use his backup before slamming into the ground. He tried to roll onto his feet, but he was surrounded. Someone hit him over the head and the last thing he saw was the ground rushing towards him again.

He woke to two sensations; a crippling headache and a vibration in his belt. Slade was trying to get a hold of him… quite literally, the teen suspected. He slowly tried to move but his hands were tied behind his back.

"The kid's awake, boss!" someone shouted and Robin was pulled up and onto a chair. He was very, very close to hurling his guts out as the pain doubled and the world spun. Concussion? Yeah, definitely.

"Ah, goodie!" the voice of the Joker rang out and the man was soon in front of him. "I was afraid you wouldn't be around for our little goodbye ceremony. We'll be done here soon, so just sit here like a good boy and we'll have a bit of fun, yes?"

Robin wanted to reply but he was too dizzy to even form words right now. The vibrations had started up again, against his back. He had had to sew a new pocket for the phone and had put it out of the way from the others, on the inside of his belt. As the cell was slim it wasn't in the way, and it reduced the risk of him accidently throwing the phone at someone instead of a bird-a-rang. It was a good place, it turned out, as he could now actually reach it. Getting it out of the belt was probably harder, but he could, perhaps, answer it anyway. He focused, trying to remember where to press. The vibrations stopped and Robin figured that he had either answered it or turned it off… It took a great deal of effort to think of what to say and actually doing it, but his life, after all, might depend on it.

"Someone will spot the break-in and call the police," he told his guard, loudly. "This is nine-hundred and six-street, after all, it is patrolled all the time. And they will see the stolen van outside, just like I did." Robin knew from experience that his phone was very sound-sensitive, but if it would pick up any of it from inside the belt was another matter. Slade might still be smart enough to track the phone and call the police, or Batman, if he thought something was wrong. Robin could only hope.

"Sure, Boy Wonder, keep telling yourself that," the henchman smirked.

Robin watched as the whole room was emptied of boxes, and, judging by the pause in the work sometimes, it seemed like they were using at least two vans which they were driving somewhere to unload. It gave him time, but with his head spinning so badly he found it impossible to even free himself from the ropes.

"Finally! Work's done so let's play a little, kid!" the grinning lunatic told him.

Robin squinted at him, trying to focus.

"If I am to have any fun you'll have to give me a few days," he muttered.

"No time, no time! Now, your daddy bats likes leaving little gifts behind, tied up innocent men, for example," the Joker told him in an overly chipper voice. "Many of my boys here have been through that, haven't you, boys?"

There was a general murmur of agreement and curse words sounding through the room.

"Yes, Batsy-boy seems to think it's funny, so we're going to do the same to you… only we couldn't find any rope, I'm afraid, so we'll have to use this," The smirk on the man's face grew impossibly wider as he held up a nail-gun.

Robin swallowed and tried to fight the men off as the ropes were untied and he was dragged over to the closest wall. All the movement kept making him blacking out, however, and he was probably no harder to handle than a sack of flour.

"Let's lift him up a little, boys… he should hang around here waiting for daddy after all, shouldn't he?"

Robin was slammed with his back against the wall as several pairs or hands lifted him just a few inches above the ground. Someone grabbed his arm and stretched it out to the side, pinning it in place.

"Oh, my, I'm feeling almost religious!" the clown giggled and Robin felt the cold metal of the nail gun against the palm of his hand.

"No! Don't!" he groaned out.

"Oh, but it's going to be a laugh!" the villain giggled.

The pain was unbelievable. Robin screamed as the nail ripped through his hand and fastened it tightly to the hard wall.

"Lovely! Lovely!" the Joker almost sang, and then moved the gun a bit up the teen's arm.

"Stop."

Robin fully agreed, but it wasn't his voice. Who else was on his side here? Someone cried out and then there was the sound of a body hitting the floor. Two bodies. Three. Four. The teen couldn't see properly, his vision swimming from pain and tears, but the Joker didn't look so happy anymore.

"Take him down! We'll nail him to the wall as well!"

"B-batman?" Robin asked no one in particular.

"No, it's not your daddy," the clown growled. "Tell me, kid… when the hell did you become friends with Deathstroke the Terminator?"

"W-who…?" the teen groaned.

"Doesn't matter, I'll bring a smile to his face," the clown told him and left to join the fight. Actually they all left, releasing Robin, making his scream out in pain again as his arm was stretched out. Thankfully his feet hit the ground and he didn't end up hanging from his injured hand, but it was close.

The sounds of fighting continued, but the teen only closed his eyes and clutched at the wall. He had never felt so helpless and useless before… not since his parents died.

Speaking about dying; the man who just crashed into the wall next to him didn't look too healthy. The observation was just an idle one, something his brain did to focus on something else but the pain and the blood, that was flowing out from his wound. The teen stumbled and panicked. He had to stay on his feet or he would rip his palm open.

His only consolation was that none of the shouts from the Joker or his men sounded triumphant; quite the opposite.

Then, suddenly, it was all quiet. Robin tried to raise his head a little, and looked out over what seemed to be a field of groaning or very still bodies, the Joker's green hair sticking up among them. The only man standing; huge, with a blood-dripping sword in one hand, didn't even appear to have a bruise on him.

Was this that 'Deathstroke' guy, then? Robin had never heard of him, and then the man turned in his direction. He was walking over to him and the teen was trying to make sense of the situation. Why had he helped him? Wait…why would he even be here for his sake?

The masked face looming over him looked demonic, half in black and half in orange.

"Were… were they your boxes?" Robin asked and then gave into the blackness dragging him down.

He woke up from the pain of the nail being pulled out, and found himself being held against the man's body, his head resting against his shoulder. It was a very familiar body, even with the thick protective uniform covering it, but the agony in his hand was the centre of his attention at the moment. Once it was free, the teen cradled it to his chest and looked up at his savior, silently begging for an explanation. When their eyes met the truth hit Robin like a bucket of ice-cold water.

"S-Slade?"

"Let's get you home," the man growled. Robin passed out again soon after.

When he woke up he was in his own bed and his hand was covered in bandages. Alfred must have been on guard because he was at his side as soon as Robin moved his throbbing head.

"There, there, Master Richard, just you rest."

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"You don't remember?" the old butler asked, looking concerned.

"I… I don't know… bits and pieces…" the teen sighed tiredly. "I… the Joker… and a nail gun, and… did… was Slade there?"

"He saved your life," Alfred confirmed. "I almost feel less inclined to sully my hands with his blood, but I'm sure it will pass."

"Yeah… yeah, it will…" Robin grinned a little. "He'll find a way to make you hate him again."

"I'm just going to call Master Bruce to tell him you're awake," the man smiled, patting the teen's healthy hand.

Not only Bruce, but also Slade walked into the room not long after.

"You are to rest for a week," Bruce said.

"No reading or TV," Slade added.

"No vigorous exercise," Bruce told him next, with a glare at Slade, "Which means-"

"I'm fully aware of what that means," the white-haired man growled.

"Deathstroke," the teen mumbled, feeling very tired.

Slade tensed.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"The Joker… called you… Deathstroke. You… saved me?"

"Free, unlimited sex. I couldn't give that up," Slade smirked.

"Deathstroke?" Bruce said, and was staring out into thin air in a way Robin recognized very well. The man was trying to remember something.

"Not important," Slade insisted and turned to the patient. "About your hand, you were lucky; the nail only pierced flesh and the nail itself wasn't very thick. Barring infections it will be better when your head is."

"Good," the teen nodded, but shouldn't have. He turned green. "I need to-" That was all the warning he was able to give before he had to roll over and proceeded to throw up all over Slade's legs and shoes.

"Not very grateful, is he?" the man said dryly. "And to think I killed the Joker for him."

---

Robin hated recovery. He had gone through quite a few of them, after all, and they were boooooring. He wasn't confined to bed this time, but his head made him sleep a lot nonetheless. Strangely Slade visited at least once a day, and even more absurdly those were the highlights of the teen's day, with Bruce being forced to work and Alfred being busy with the household.

"I can't believe he's dead…" Robin said one day.

"Don't tell me you had a crush on him?" the man snorted.

"Hell, no! But he… well, he was kinda… always there."

"That sounds creepy."

"Yeah. Sorry. He has just been the centre of my nightmares for so long, and now he's dust… I don't know, it feels strange."

"Well, good. I want to be the centre of your dreams," Slade told him with a smirk.

"Nightmares," Robin repeated.

"No matter. It's all good," the man shrugged, making Robin chuckle again, before turning serious.

"I was right about you."

"Regarding?"

"You did have something to hide. You're an assassin!"

"Mercenary."

"The difference being…?"

"That not all my jobs end with me killing people," Slade snorted. "Although, now when I think about it…"

"Your business is just… what? A front?"

"No, it's real. Real and boring. Let's just say that Deathstroke is… a hobby."

"Some collect stamps."

"Some swing over the rooftops in a cape," the man retorted.

"Point taken."

"I hope you realize that either you or Batman can never tell a soul?"

"Yes," the teen grunted. "We know."

"Good. Now, how about a shower?"

"Slade, I shouldn't-"

"Feel clean? I'm not going to slam your poor little bruised head against the tiles, trust me."

"Trust you? Yes, I might actually be brain damaged enough to do that now…" Robin muttered.

"Excellent," the man smirked.

"UUhhnnn…. is… this how you would normally wash someone?" Robin moaned, his back to the shower wall, and Slade's hand stroking him leisurely.

"I wouldn't normally wash anyone," the man snorted. "Come on now… there's nothing wrong with your left hand…"

"I knew you were just interested in using me," the teen muttered sarcastically.

"It's been five days. My balls are about to explode," the man complained.

"You can always use your own hand."

"Haven't had to since I was fourteen."

"Forgotten how?"

"Yes. Remind me."

The teen was about to obey but drew his hand back at the last moment, only brushing his fingertips against the underside of the man's shaft, making it twitch.

"Hmmm… I think I want you to suck me off first."

"Bargaining again?"

"Well, I almost died a few days back, I'm feeling very vulnerable…" the teen claimed, in a very fake, wounded voice.

Slade chuckled.

"It amazes me that you keep trying to barter when you have absolutely no leverage…" the man sighed, and to Robin's amazement, smoothly sank down on one knee. "So why I let you win this round is beyond me."

"Pfftt… because I have leverage up to here, that's why," Robin smirked and raised his hand. "And you just have to realize that I-oooohhhhmmmmm…"

"That you…?"

"No talking…." Robin groaned and gently pulled the man's head and lips back in position. "Oh… good GOD!"

It had been five days for Robin too, after all, but he managed to last a full four and a half minutes, which was a feat to brag about. Well. Maybe not, but still.

Slade stood up and kissed him, making him taste his own seed, which was weird, but… erotic too in some twisted way. His healthy hand was caught and brought, very firmly, to something else that was also very firm. Robin didn't mind paying the favor back and stroked the man slowly as they continued to kiss. He felt Slade tense, the man's hips bucked, so he worked him faster, making him grunt in grateful pleasure. A moment later ropes of white mixed with the soapsuds on the teens belly and chest and Robin grinned as the man had to support himself with a hand against the wall for a moment.

"That good?" he asked cheekily.

"As I said… five days," the man muttered.

"Like you couldn't have gone out and picked someone up at a bar… or gotten a whore," the teen snorted.

"That would mean that Gotham would gain one very wealthy whore in the morning," Slade said. "We're an official couple and the papers would pay very good money for a story like that."

"Hmmm… I think I just got more leverage," the teen smirked.

"How so?"

"Well, it's either me or blue-balls… so you better be nice to me from now on."

"It's either you being nice to me or you being exposed," the man reminded him.

"Yes, well… details," Robin muttered. "But really, that whore would more likely end up dead than rich, right?"

"Don't insult me. I only kill when I get paid. Or save my bootie call."

"A gentleman and practically a saint. Maybe you should ask to join the Justice League?" Robin asked innocently.

"I've worked for them."

"No, you have not!"

"The Martian Manhunter hired me once. It was a small-scale mission, but Batman probably remembered my alias from the report as I haven't done much work in Gotham."

"The Joker knew who you were…" Robin pointed out.

"Of course. Nightmares know each other," Slade smirked.

---

"Um… Bruce? Are you busy?" Robin asked as he shuffled into the Batcave a little later, after Slade left.

"Just some maintenance. What's the matter, do you feel alright?" the man asked.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine, I just… may I talk to you about… Slade?"

"What did he do?"

"Um, it's not what he's done… well... it is… I… I'm just so confused!" Robin complained and then launched into a rant. "I mean, I hate him, I do! But since he made me start to date him, I… I've gotten to know him as well, and he has started doing things for me too and…"

"Things?"

"Um… nice things…?" Robin mumbled.

"Like… gifts?" Bruce asked, looking blank.

"Ummm… no, more like… you know… really nice things…? In bed?"

"I didn't want to know that."

"Sorry! Sorry, but it's important, because before it was all about you know… me doing nice things for him, even though he always made sure I-" Robin saw Bruce's glazed expression and stopped himself. "Sorry. Um, well, that's changed, anyway, and we're always talking on the dates, and he makes me laugh sometimes and now he's even saved my life!"

"Are you saying that you are beginning to fall for him?" Bruce asked with a frown.

"NO! No. No… I… Damn it!" Robin sank down on a chair and put his face in his hands. "I don't know. He's… charming."

"He is. When he wants to be. I'm very grateful that he saved your life, Robin, of course I am, but he only did it out of selfishness. Ask yourself this; would he have saved mine?"

"Hell, no, he'd have helped nail you up," Robin snorted and then blinked. "Hey! Yeah… that helped! That really cleared it up! Thank you!"

"Well, that's what a guardian is for. I hope this gives me back all the points I lost for the birds and the bees-talk?"

"Aw, god, that was so awful!" Robin grinned. "But yeah, it does. And please repeat if, or when, needed, okay?"

"Will do," the man smirked and went back to his work.

---

A few days later Slade and Robin were attending the opening of an art gallery. The hero's hand had healed rather well, and his head was back to normal again as well. They were speaking to some businessman, actually Slade was speaking and Robin tried his best not to just look like a pretty thing on the man's arm, but he didn't really have anything to add to this particular conversation as they were talking about a contract between their businesses. As the other man left, after a hearty handshake, Slade looked like a fat cat in a jacuzzi full of cream.

"Dating you is good for my image," he told Robin. "That man has always been weary of doing business with me and I have wanted to collaborate with him for years… and now he seems to think I'm an upstanding citizen all of a sudden."

"The fool," Robin muttered.

"Damn right. I'm going to pick his company clean."

"Slade!"

"What? I am! He has some very clever people working for him and I want them on my team."

Robin sighed and shook his head, but there was nothing he could do. Besides, he didn't particularly like that guy… he was the loud and self-important type who was a second away from waving his bank statement in your face.

Suddenly they were surrounded by familiar people.

"Ladies, long time no see," Slade said pleasantly.

"And we all know why," Mrs. Rosario grinned.

"Oh, you!" Miss Mead exclaimed, but she was wearing a similar grin.

"Thanks to you boys I'm a hundred dollars richer, actually…" Miss Kirstensen let them know.

"Um… why?" Robin asked carefully.

"Let's just say we all saw you looking, honey," Mrs. Perez told him bluntly, "But some of us didn't think it would come to this and some of us did…"

"You cause great pain to the society, though… two handsome bachelors off the playing-field in one swipe," Miss Mead said wistfully. "Heartbreakers, that's what you are."

"We are terribly sorry," Slade chuckled. "But speaking about the heart; it wants what it wants…"

"Awww!" came a collective sigh.

"If you excuse us, Richard told me he wanted to see the nudes," Slade informed them.

"Only to see if there's something better out there," Robin grinned a bit too wide, while giving his 'boyfriend' a dirty look.

"I'm sure there is, leave Mr. Wilson to me, dear," Miss Kirstensen grinned. Robin thought she might actually be serious.

As they walked away the teen muttered darkly under his breath. "Bruce was right, and now I know what they look like…"

"What?" Slade asked. "Who?"

"The perverts."

---

As they had a late dinner after the gallery viewing, Slade had some news.

"I'm going away on business for about two weeks," he said.

"Hah, how are you gonna survive that?" Robin grinned. "Oh, no, I don't have to come with you, do I? I have exams coming up!"

"You're not coming with me, and I will just make sure to drain myself as much as I can before I go…" the man smirked.

"You know I must be able to actually sit during the exams, right?" Robin asked worriedly. "So where are you going?"

"To Washington DC, the day after tomorrow."

"On business or… business?" the teen wanted to know.

"That's private."

"Oh, god, you're going to kill someone… the teen groaned. "Is it the president! Please not the president!"

"It's not the president and no one will be killed. Probably. Almost certainly. Maybe."

---

"So, he has left now?" Bruce asked.

"YES! It's great!" Robin grinned. "He left last night and, damn, twenty four hours without Slade feels… amazing!"

His mentor chuckled as he was sitting by the computer in the Batcave, updating its records. Slade had killed or severely injured quite a lot of people that they had on file, and it was time to do a cleanup.

Robin was just about to offer to help when his phone rang.

"You're not back already, are you?" he answered.

"I hear you miss me. And no, I'm getting ready for bed. All alone."

"Poor you. Bye!"

"Hang on a moment. I'm going to require your… services."

"What? But… how?"

"Well… this phone transmits both images and sounds after all… let's get a little creative with it."

Robin was already withdrawing quickly from Bruce's presence, and headed up from the Batcave as fast as he could so the man wouldn't have to hear anything that would give him nightmares.

"Um, hadn't you forgotten how to use your hand?" he asked.

"I just remembered. Besides, I am going to pretend it's yours anyways. Now, here's what I want you to do…"

---

"Did he make you talk on the phone again last night?" Bruce asked him two weeks later over lunch. Robin hadn't told him anything about it at first, but the man was very observant and hand spotted the shame straight away.

"Yeah, and he's coming home today…" Robin muttered. "I hate my life."

"At least you didn't have to actually touch him for a while," Bruce said. "Don't worry, Robin… he's been away for a while now, and maybe he'll go soon again, and before you know it, he's going to find someone or something else to torture."

"I really, really hope so…" the teen sighed. "I know it's not very heroic of me, but I do."

He jumped a bit as his phone rang. He whipped it out of his pocket.

"You can't be serious! You must be on the plane by now!" he growled.

"I'm on my way there, actually," the man replied. "I just wanted to tell you that you will be meeting me at the airport. Open arms. Will make a great picture. I've read the articles about how lonely you have been looking."

"I know… I've been throwing up over the breakfast table every morning…" the teen growled.

"Hmmm… you might be pregnant," the man joked, making the teen snort. "Now, you'll be…?"

"Picking you up, open arms. Will Wintergreen be driving?"

"Yes. We are scheduled to land at three-thirty. Wintergreen will be picking you up at two-thirty. Never hurts to be there early and looking eager."

"Fine."

"I'm looking forward to it, because, I have to admit… I missed you."

With that the man hung up and Robin stared at the phone, a strange feeling in his stomach. Then he shook his head.

"All he misses is my ass," he told himself firmly.

Forty minutes later Bruce's voice called for him, echoing through the building. Robin ran, because it sounded serious.

"Please don't tell me the Joker is alive?" he begged. He saw the man's eyes were glued to the TV and took a look at it himself. He didn't understand what he saw first, just something that looked like an over head shot of a field of trash.

"It's Slade's flight. It crashed," Bruce said.

"It… what?"

"It crashed. No survivors. He's dead."

A reporter showed up on the screen.

"This just in. The passenger list has not been released yet, but confirmed bookings on this flight includes the businessman Slade Wilson, the diplomat Elisabeth North and-"

Robin didn't listen to the rest of it; he just sank down into the closest armchair.

"It was an accident, so I doubt his lawyers will release the information," Bruce said. "You're free, Robin. We both are!"

"I… I know, it's… it's great," the teen stuttered. It was great. It was amazing. It was a gift from the gods. Well… apart from all those other people dying, of course. He was just… a bit dazed.

"I'm in a bit of a shock too," Bruce chuckled, and the gleefulness of the sound proved it.

"Master Bruce, it's the media on the phone, they are asking for a statement from Master Richard," Alfred told them from the door.

"I… I can't… I…"

"Tell them to piss off, we're in mourning," Batman smirked.

"Indeed, Sir," the old man smiled back, but his eyes shifted to Robin for a second, something the teen spotted. He didn't know what to make of that look, though, because it came across suspiciously like… sympathy? There was nothing to be sympathetic about! Slade was dead! It was great! Break out the champagne!

"I… I… excuse me…" Robin muttered. "I… need to go and…" he couldn't come up with anything, but Bruce seemed to be busy thinking of something else.

"We will be expected to go to the funeral, but I suppose his lawyers will take care of all the details," the man said to Alfred. "We need to look into that, though, I'm not sure if we have any responsibilities… they were only 'dating' after all."

Robin slipped out of the room and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. The first thing he spotted as he entered was the little robin on the dresser. He picked it up. He didn't have to keep it now. He could sell it or even smash it. Same thing with the suits and all the other little trinkets the man had given him during the last couple of months… cufflinks, ties, a wallet… the cell phone! Robin could finally crush that hateful thing to smithereens! He realized this, but he still put the robin back carefully and went to lie down on his bed. Ah-ha… his new bed, because Slade had claimed that the old one wasn't wide enough…

Slade…

The teen lay there for a long time, letting errant, unexplainable thoughts run through his mind. Then he glanced over at his alarm clock. It would soon have been time to leave for the airport…. to pick him up… Robin withdrew the phone and looked at its dead, inactivated screen. It would never ring again.

And just then it did.

"S-SLADE?" he answered, before realizing that it couldn't be. It had to be Wintergreen, perhaps. But it wasn't.

"That was heartwarming. You've been worried?" he heard the man's voice say.

"Slade… are you…? How?" Robin stuttered.

"My cab got stuck in traffic and I missed the flight. Luckily. I just heard over the radio."

"But… where are you?"

"I had to hire a private jet, but I have been making good time as this is a fast little thing, so I'll be landing at about the same time anyway… when I heard about the crash I realized that I had to make a call to make sure you would be there and not away on some party somewhere."

"I… I wouldn't…"

"Oh, come on, Batman is hanging streamers as we speak," the man chuckled. "I would absolutely love to see the expression on his face when you tell him… maybe you can film it? Anyway, Wintergreen is on his way and will be outside in a few minutes. He has also alerted the media, so expect cameras. Hurry up." The man ended the call and Robin flew out of bed and down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked him as he thundered through the main hall.

"He's alive!" Robin yelled back and was out the door.

Robin never knew what Bruce's reaction to the news was, but when he came back there was a fist-sized hole in the wall-plaster right where the man had been standing. Probably not a coincidence.

The car was just driving up, and yes, there were paparazzi on bikes and cars around. Robin heard someone shouting questions at him, but he didn't care, he just threw himself inside the car. All the windows were one-way, so no one could see him inside.

"Glad to see you, Mr. Grayson," the old man at the wheel said. Robin met his eyes in the rear view mirror and could see that they were red-rimmed.

"You… you thought he was dead too?"

"Yes… but he has surprised me before. So many times I shouldn't be surprised anymore, actually," Wintergreen said with a warmth and a familiarity that made the teen realize, for the first time, that the man wasn't just a mere driver.

"Let's just go and pick the bastard up," he grinned.

"Right you are, Mr. Grayson. Right you are," the man chuckled.

The media followed them, of course, and at the airport there were even more of them, covering the tragedy as well as what Robin was sure would be presented as 'the miracle of love' or something cheesy like that. Security helped them get through the arrival hall and to the right gate and then all they could do was wait. Robin listened to the cameras still clicking away at a distance, wondering if the photographers would fill up their memory cards soon or not. He kept his eyes on the gate door and gasped as it suddenly opened.

Slade's eye found him at once.

Robin remembered the man's instructions from earlier in the day and took a step forward. And another. And another. Suddenly he was running, to the sound of the camera-shutters rising to a crescendo, and then he was in the man's arms, hugging him hard, being half crushed in return. He pulled back a moment later and then wound his hands around the man's neck, dragging him down for a kiss. It was their first really public kiss, that is; one where the paparazzi didn't have to sneak around to get a shot, and the sound and flashes were almost overwhelming by now. But Robin didn't notice it at all.

"We will be taking a few questions, but then we would like to be left alone for the rest of the day," Robin heard the man say after the kiss ended, and the journalists were allowed a bit closer.

"We hear you missed your flight?" someone said.

"Yes. I'm very grateful to DC-traffic," Slade told them. "But I was lucky. Our thoughts and prayers are with the families of those who were on that airplane today."

Robin didn't look at the media, he had his face pressed against Slade's chest. It was to hide his dry eyes, he told himself, besides, the shaking he couldn't seem to stop would fool them. Maybe his eyes weren't so dry either. Shock. Had to be. And the crash. Horrible. He let out a small sob.

"Richard! Richard, did you think Slade was onboard the plane?" someone else asked.

"He did," Slade nodded. "I didn't hear about the accident until well after it had been reported and he had no idea that I had missed the flight… he just found out moments before getting in the car here... so I hope you'll forgive him for not feeling like talking right now. I hope he will answer one question, though…" Slade pushed Robin back just enough so he could look down on him, and then smiled. "This event, be it fate or just circumstance, has made me realize something…" The teen gasped, as did their audience, as the man sank down on one knee. "Richard Grayson… will you marry me?"

"I… I… I…" Robin stuttered. He felt the man's hands squeeze his slightly and the look in the man's eye held somewhat of a warning. "… yes!" the teen croaked out, the sound followed by a roar of questions and shouts. Several paparazzi tried to get through the line of guards for some reason; maybe they thought that shoving their cameras up their nostrils would get the perfect scoop.

Robin's world was spinning as Slade stood up and kissed him. As the kiss ended the man bent lower to whisper in his ear.

"This is the perfect public relation stunt… my stocks will soar."

The End

---

A/N: Don't look at me like that, I had to stop somewhere! I haven't even started the May-drabbles yet, damn it, and this is to be posted in two days as I write this…

Anyway, sorry if it seems fluffy, at least by the end there. I'd say it's semi-fluff with a little dark aftertaste. And yes, if some b-day child wants me to continue this, I will. I have more ideas for it, lots more, but it probably WILL go fluffier or stay at this fluff-level, so you will have to accept that, in that case… Oh, god, 28 pages… I need a break before I'll start trying to find all the major errors in this… I think I'll clean my apartment.

Love you!

/W