NOTE: I got some strong reactions to the drabble "A Friendly Wager" about the non-con/dub-con issue…
That part of the story was dark, yes, but as far as I see it, it was still dub-con, because, again, this is my point of view, no matter how many times the character say no, if he or she ends up ENJOYING it, and Robin did so very quickly, then it's dub-don (standing for dubious consent, that is doubtful/uncertain consent) So dubcon is still usually dark!
And no, I didn't warn for dub-con/non-con at the top, I rarely, if ever, do that, because it think warnings like that ruin stories. I DID warn sensitive readers, however, and I have to say this: if you are sensitive, it's actually up to you if you want to continue reading after you find out where a story is heading… maybe you want to stop completely or skim to the end… a story is NOT like a movie/TV-show where you are suddenly bombarded with disturbing scenes or sounds before you have a chance to close your eyes: you can simply stop reading.
And I've written real rape before, where Robin did NOT enjoy it and was left tormented and hurt, so I know the difference, and I treat them differently; when I write rape it's a serious matter…
It's so important to understand the difference between entertainment and reality here: in reality dub-con rarely even exists: you either agree or you don't! There's no WAY a raped person suddenly starts thinking 'hmmm… this isn't so bad!' but it happens in stories all the time, and not only in fan-fiction, but, to some less obvious extent, in TV-shows and movies as well… how many times have you seen a character, rightfully, scream "I hate you!" to another character just to kiss them in the next instance? How about the "struggle kiss", you know the classical: "no…o….oh…ooohhh" thing? How often does THAT happen in real life?
SO do I feel I have a right to write dub-con without exploring the social/physical/psychological conflicts with the real world society? Hell yes I do, and I will continue to do so. And I'll probably write rape again as well. So, in conclusion: If I warn for dark, if I warn sensitive readers, it probably means dub-con. If I warn for VERY dark it probably means rape. In either case, if you still choose to read, then stop if it's heading in a direction you don't like…
And, I also got many comments saying that it WASN'T dark, or not as dark as you would have wanted it to be, and there are more people on that end of the scale… so it's impossible for me to know how each individual will interpret a specific story or situation! It's REALLY up to the individual reader.
A/N: Happy B-day TTRaven4Ever (June 30)!
This is a Terms-drabble, just a shortie, I'm afraid, but still… anyway, the prompt-word was "Anniversary" and it was SUPPOSED to be an anniversary-drabble, I swear! It was just that I let the boys talk in the beginning and they came up with something else… so… yeah… It was still inspired by the prompt, however, which is, really, all you can ask. ;) Oh, and the title… you all know I didn't come up with that one… ;)
So Call Me, Maybe?
"Happy anniversary sugar-spunk!"
"Happy anniversary pretty-dick!"
The redheads grinned and kissed each other while Slade and Robin watched in disbelief.
"You really, really have to reconsider those pet-names…" Robin muttered.
"Glad you think so, because if you start to call me 'pretty-dick' I'm filing for divorce," Slade said. "But you are missing the most obvious unbelievable fact here…"
"Ain't nothing pretty about that monster…" Robin snorted and then grinned at his husband. "And what? What am I missing?"
"The idea that any of those two morons would actually remember a date."
"Yeah, you're right, that is weird," the former hero nodded. "Hey, you two! Stop sucking each other's faces off for a second, okay? What's so special about today?"
"Oh, today's a big one!" Red said.
"Sure is," Speedy nodded solemnly.
Robin tried to figure it out but had to give up. "So… what is it?"
"It's, to the day, two weeks since we bought our new plasma screen TV."
"You are idiots," Slade concluded and Robin actually nodded along.
"What, don't you celebrate anniversaries?" Red wanted to know.
"No," Slade said.
"Yes," Robin answered at the same time and then they looked at each other. Robin raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, yes," Slade conceded. "But only real, actual ones."
"Yes, and Bunny's birthday…" Robin grinned.
"That was you."
"You agreed to the anniversary sex," his young husband snorted.
"Oh god," Speedy groaned, "Please tell me Bunny wasn't included as well?"
"You are a sick, sick young man," Slade muttered. "You should channel that in a more fitting way and join the dark side once and for all."
"Nah, then me and Red can't keep playing good guy/bad guy," the archer shrugged.
"Oh, yes you can," Robin leered. "And cowboys and indians… rugged cowboy and cute, naïve indian boy… mmm…."
"Stop humping my leg in front of the kids," Slade said and Robin, who hadn't been humping anything, just merely pressing a little closer to his husband, albeit repeatedly, blinked and came back to his senses.
"Whaaa? You actually did that?" Red gaped.
"Wore a hat ant everything," Slade admitted. "And we are still finding feathers everywhere."
"The Indian boy was a good runner," Robin smirked.
"Not good enough," Slade smirked back.
Robin coughed and blushed a little before, being determined to turn the conversation around, asking the redheads a question. "So how are you going to celebrate, then?"
"We're going out number-hunting at Devil's Palace," Speedy said. "Not that you'd know what that is…"
"Or where that is," Red cut in.
"The Devil's Palace is one of the largest night clubs in the city, stretching over ten floors with a lot of private rooms, themed bars and live music on over half the dance-floors seven days a week," Slade said.
"And number hunting is trying to get people's phone-numbers," Robin added. "We own the club, boys."
"What… you do?"
"We own it, but we don't run it, of course," Slade shrugged. "So you are celebrating by trying to pick up other people? How romantic."
"Oh, it's always good to practice, and it's only numbers… unless we both agree on taking someone home," Speedy explained.
"So, who usually wins, then?" Robin asked curiously.
"It differs. Lately we have raised the stakes, though, so last time, for example, Red had to wear a top hat and I had to wear a fez," Speedy said. "That was a slam dunk for me."
"Really? People picked fezzes over top hats?" Robin asked.
"He lucked out and ran into a bunch of people from a Doctor Who convention," Red muttered.
"All I had to say was 'fezzes are cool' and it was in the bag," the archer grinned. "Plus I'm ginger so…"
"Yeah, that was lucky," Robin laughed.
"Sooo…" Red said in a very innocent tone, "who do you think would win out of you and Slade?"
"I would," the very competitive couple answered as one.
"Slade, I love you, but I'm young, I'm very hot, and I have killer body that won't actually make people scared of me, so… I'd win," Robin said lightly.
"Oh, you are so sure, are you?" the man smirked.
"Yes. I'd win wearing a bunny suit," Robin snorted.
"If you are wearing one like I'm picturing in my mind; yes you will," Slade admitted.
"So, come with us tonight then! Let's see who has game," Speedy teased them.
"I don't think-" Robin began.
"Chicken?" Red smirked.
That was it, really.
"Fine! We'll do it. And as I said, I can win in a bunny-suit. The real, covering kind," Robin snorted.
"Are you so sure?" Slade asked.
"Yeah, honey, I am," Robin grinned.
"Good. Then you're going as Robinne."
"What? No?" Robin exclaimed as the redheads hooted.
"No, I take that back," Slade said.
"Oh, good, because-"
"Robinne is a lady. You better go as 'Robyn', because I expect you to dress quite a lot sluttier."
"Then you're going as a woman too!" Robin snapped.
"No, no, my dear, it was you who claimed you would be able to beat me with a 'handicap', and I'm not so sure this will be one…"
"You'll be the hottest mum ever! Come! Let's go shopping!" Red said and grabbed the former hero's arm. Robin groaned but let himself be pulled along. He couldn't back out now unless he wanted to be clucked at for weeks to come, he knew that from experience.
Robin hated the world, but the world seemed rather appreciative of him. He was turning quite a few heads as he entered the club wearing six-inch heels, fishnet stockings, a ridiculously short black skirt, and fake D-cup breasts. His 'trouble-area' was his muscled arms and torso, plus the fact that he couldn't wear anything with a plunging neckline, so his top had long, flowing sleeves while the bodice was a black and red corset which would fit very nicely in a porn-actress wardrobe.
His makeup and hair had been done professionally and managed to soften the look which might have turned out a bit too much 'dominatrix' otherwise, and, as Red had pointed out, 'he wouldn't want to scare anyone away'.
"Hmmm… maybe we shouldn't play this game tonight…" Robin heard Slade say next to him. He looked up and saw that the man was wearing his fake eye again, and his hair, this time, was black. He had shaved his beard as well.
"Damn it, Slade, now I'm going to get stubble burn for weeks," Robin muttered and tried not to give in to the little voices which told him to grab his gorgeous husband's hand have his way with him in the nearest dark corner. Slade looked like he was battling the same thoughts.
"Oh, yes. Your poor inner thighs…" the man smirked.
"Stop it, I'm wearing tape here, I don't want it to rip," the teen half chuckled, half purred.
"Tape where?" Slade asked.
"Ummm…" Robin mumbled.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"I bet I can make it rip, I just need to get you horny enough," the man smirked.
"Hello mum and dad, ready to begin?" Speedy asked, suddenly appearing next to them.
Robin sighed and nodded.
"Don't worry, mum, Speedy and I are just going to referee tonight, so we'll be here for you if you need any help."
"I won't need help," Robin hissed.
"Of course not… so… used to flirting with strangers, are you?" the archer asked with a smirk.
"Shut up, and let's go. Two hours, alright?" the former hero snorted.
Ten minutes later and Robin came to the terrible conclusion that he was shy. HIM. He was sipping on a drink and looking around, meeting quite a few eyes but not daring to take any action.
"Hey, wanna dance?"
Robin looked up to see a guy who looked a bit like a thug standing in front of him. Beggars can't be choosers though, and Robin smiled and nodded. After that it was easier.
He ran into Slade about half way through and they compared notes.
"My ass is blue from getting pinched…" the teen muttered.
"Hm, we didn't set any rules about touching," Slade realized, not looking too pleased.
"How about just hands, no lips?" Robin proposed, "Because if you kiss anyone else, I'll kill you."
"I'd kill the other person, but yes," his husband smirked. "So… how many have you gotten?"
"Seven," Robin grinned, showing Slade his pile of numbers, "You?"
"Eleven," the man purred.
"What? Let me see!" Robin said and flipped through the scraps of paper. "Wait, I have his as well! The slut! Hold on, these are girl's names!"
"Yes? So?"
"I've just been picking up guys!"
"Then try for girls are well then," the man shrugged.
"I don't know how to talk to girls like that! And I'm dressed like one!" Robin growled. "It's not fair!"
"Well, I have to flirt with men as a man, that's not always easy either," Slade said.
"Yes, but… but… well, you're a big guy, I'm sure they are too afraid to say no to you," the teen snorted.
"Actually, that might be true for at least one of these numbers…" the man leered. "Poor boy was shivering… but I think it was mostly in excitement."
"Yeah, excitement about getting his ass destroyed…" Robin muttered. "He'll wet himself every time his phone rings for the next two weeks… But no time for pity. See you in an hour!"
Robin tried to assess his chances with the women in the club, but many of them were in groups and he had no idea how to go about it, so he stuck to the guys. His competitive side having been awakened, paired with a bit of alcohol, made him really go for it.
"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy…" he said to one guy with a grin.
"I lost my phone number, can I have yours?" he asked another.
"There's something wrong with my cell phone," he complained to a third, "It doesn't have your number in it."
He ended up actually having fun, but he still found himself longing for Slade. As the two hours were up he faced the problem of actually finding the man, not having the slightest idea what floor he was on. He ran into Red, though, who picked up his phone.
"I don't think anyone can hear their phone ring in this noise," Robin said.
"Don't worry, we'll just track him," he said.
"We what?" the ex hero blinked.
"The trackers you have implanted under your skin! Speedy and I got those too, after that thing with the snakie-gang, and we realized that we could create this app to-"
"App! Those trackers are only to be used in an emergency!" Robin exclaimed. "If you tell me others can-"
"No, no, just us, but come on! It's great! See? Slade is more to the north than we are, and higher above sea-level than we, so I'd say… two floors up at the big bar? Oh, and Speedy's with him!"
"Fine then, let's go. But your father will hear about this," the teen muttered and stomped off.
"There's my girl," Slade grinned and pulled Robin close for a kiss. After having so many stranger's hands on him all evening, the teen relaxed when the right ones finally caressed him.
"Missed you. Did you miss me?" he mumbled.
"Terribly. All people here just fades compared to you," the man told him, sounding deadly serious.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
"Aw, stop it, you two! Who won?" Speedy asked.
"I got…" Robin said, counting the notes, "Nineteen. You?" he asked Slade.
The man flipped through his own notes.
"Huh. Seems we're even," he said.
"Then we go to sudden death. The first one to get a number wins," Red said dramatically.
Robin sighed but then grabbed a pencil from the bar and scribbled his own number down, handing it to Slade. "Call me, maybe?" he grinned.
"You know what?" Slade said, pocketing the note. "I just might…"
The End
A/N: I found the thought of Robin being too shy to flirt with girls rather fun. Poor boy. Slade has wrecked him.
Disclaimer: The pick-up lines, as well as the lines from the song "Call Me Maybe" are not mine, of course.