A/N: Another oneshot, freestanding story of the more domestic kind, around 14-15 pages long. Hope you enjoy!
I don't!
Once upon a time (or rather very recently) there was a very wealthy man who had but one son. The man worried that this son, although fair and just, didn't take his future inheritance serious enough, since he, at the age of eighteen, still hadn't shown any commitment to a specific partner. The man decided to address the subject with the same decisive control by which he steered his company, and simply provide a suitable partner for his heir.
… yeah, that didn't really work out…
"You've decided that I should do what?" Robin had almost spit out his breakfast bagel and was now staring at his adoptive father from across the table. Bruce lowered his newspaper slightly.
"You're going to get married."
"Am not!" the young man spluttered, hearing how childish it sounded but being unable to form a better sentence at the moment.
"Getting you off the market will lessen all the advances on you from gold diggers and show the board that you are an adult after all."
"I'm eighteen!"
"And I expect you to run the company by the time you're twenty. That's two short years, Dick-"
"-Robin."
"You still insist on that? Fine. Robin."
"Well, our identities are out and I always liked Robin better than Dick," the teen said and then blushed slightly.
"In all senses but one, I assume?" his father said dryly.
"Which is why I'm not getting married!" the teen insisted.
"I'm not going to make you marry a woman, who do you take me for?" the billionaire snorted. "Like I said, as our hero days are pretty much over it's time to focus on your future. We should be grateful that Wayne Industries still exists."
"People love you for being Batman," Robin snapped. "The stocks have never looked better."
"Yes, well… that wasn't expected," the man muttered. "The Joker's last laugh could have ended us." The crazy clown had committed suicide in a very spectacular and bloody way right after announcing to the whole world who Batman really was. The autopsy showed that the man had advanced brain cancer and wanted to play one last, cruel joke on the bat. Batman had managed to rescue the many civilians the clown had planned on taking with him at the last moment, which was a saving grace in the situation. Still, since then Batman had mainly fought crime from behind his powerful computer and Robin was thinking of moving back to Jump, which he had left two years ago in the wake of the Brotherhood of Evil's almost-win. He had needed some time off, a new perspective and a short visit had led from one case to another and here he still was. He hated being 'grounded' though, and he didn't mind living full-out as a hero… but it seemed his father had other plans.
"It didn't, though. We're both almost better off than before, despite the threat… I mean, it wasn't like you weren't one of the biggest bad-guy targets before either, as Bruce Wayne, and this whole Joker thing seems to have made some of the old baddies snap out of it… but apparently it has made heroes mental," Robin finished sarcastically.
"We have to focus on the future."
"No, we have to live a little!" the teen objected.
"I will announce your engagement tomorrow night at the gala."
"What?! No! Wait! To WHOM?!"
"Oh, I didn't say?"
"No, you fucking didn't!"
"Roy Harper."
"WHAT?!"
"He's your age, he's the heir to Oliver, a fusion of Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries is something Oliver and I have been discussing for years."
"Then you two get married!" Robin snorted.
"Why are you throwing a fit? You like Roy, don't you?"
"As a friend, yes! He's like a brother to me! And he's also a party-animal who chases anything that can fit into a skirt and some things that can't! I swear he would get turned on by sheep in a bind!"
"Well, we are hoping this arrangement will get him to calm down a bit. Besides, there will be some harsh repercussions if either of you don't honor your vows."
Robin stood up, trying to stay calm.
"Bruce, I love you, but fuck off!" He saw his old mentor's eyes narrow dangerously, but he was on a roll. "I will not marry Roy! This is crazy! Insane! I don't care if you throw me out and cut me off, I'll be more than fine!"
"Sure. Unless you want to work as a hero. No city will endorse you like Jump endorses the Titans. You'd be alone in a world that knows your face. If you refuse to marry Roy, then pick someone yourself, as long as he's suitable."
Robin was so angry that he could hear himself growling. His eyes landed on the front page of the newspaper Bruce was still calmly holding.
"Very well!" he said, pointing at the large cover picture. "I'll marry Deathstroke!"
"Then you will! I've had enough of your ungratefulness!" Bruce barked. "You'll marry the man you helped put on death row and it will be announced tomorrow night!"
Robin threw his hands out, fired off some random curse words and stormed out, up to his room. This was nonsense and it would blow over. Then his phone rang. It was Roy, and judging by the way Robin could hear him scream and curse long before he got the phone to his ear the redhead had also just heard the good news.
After talking with Roy and agreeing that their respective father figures were both full out crazy and this wouldn't happen in a million years Robin felt better about it all. He walked downstairs to find that Bruce had gone into town on business and Alfred was baking cookies.
"Do you believe him?!" Robin complained to the old butler, sneaking a still hot cookie off a plate.
"I agree it's rather quite… unorthodox,"
"He's gone insane! What is he trying to do, anyway?!" the teen snorted, shoving the whole cookie in his mouth and chewing furiously.
"He's trying to protect you," the old man said softly.
"What?"
"The world is different now. It's dangerous for you to be alone. He also wants to secure the company's future, but trust me, Master Robin, that is only his second concern. The first one is you."
"Well, he's going about it in a very weird way!"
The old man coughed softly in the way Robin knew meant that he was suppressing a laugh. "One might say that teaching a child to fight and taking him along on dangerous missions also was a bit… unconventional," the butler pointed out.
The teen sighed but had to give the man a point there.
A few hours later he got a phone call from his father.
"I need you to come out to Blackgate Penitentiary. Now."
"Wha- I… fine." Robin knew Deathstroke was being kept there awaiting his execution. Seemed like the crazy bat was running with this. It wouldn't happen, of course, but now the young man started to feel intrigued. How far would Bruce go? Besides, if he could see Slade again for a few minutes, he might sleep easier at night. Also, the expression on the mercenary's face when this insane deal would be suggested to him would be priceless…
Slade was sitting on the other side of a thick reinforced glass wall, in a metal chair bolted to the floor and with his ankles and wrists chained together. He was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit and nothing was covering his missing eye. Giving Deathstroke access to an eye patch was apparently too dangerous. Robin didn't exactly blame the guards, in fact he was surprised the man was even still here, but even though he was strong, intelligent and fast he was still mainly human and this was a place that could hold some of the strongest super villains.
Robin paused when he saw that the mercenary looked… tired. A bit worn. His hair didn't seem like it had been washed in too long, and his chin hadn't seen a razor in quite a while either. He was sitting perfectly still, the single blue-grey eye looking from Bruce to straight into Robin's very soul. That was what it seemed like, anyway, and for a moment the teen forgot to breathe.
Bruce was sitting down at a table and he had apparently already delivered the good news, judging by how Slade greeted the teen, his voice coming through the crackly intercom system.
"Well, hello dear."
Robin fought the blush blooming on his cheeks and gave both men a death glare.
"Very funny. Just say no to this nonsense, Slade, and get this over with."
"I've already said yes."
Robin gaped. "You… what?"
"Any deal that means I'll live is a good deal," the man shrugged.
"But… how… I mean…" the teen turned to his father. "You're just going to let him go?"
"There are conditions," Bruce said and drew himself up. Robin recognized the way the man looked when he was about to start a lecture so he threw himself down on the other chair. This could take a while. "If you look closely you will see that Mr. Wilson is wearing a plastic band around his neck." Robin glanced at the man and yes, it was hard to see and sat very low on the man's neck so it would be easily hidden by a collar.
"Yes?"
"That is an explosive-"
"What?! Are you crazy?!"
"No. Quite the opposite. It's my, and your, insurance," the billionaire drawled. "It is only powerful enough to severely damage his neck, most likely creating tears in his air pipe and jugular as well. He might survive, but with all three areas compromised at once it's unlikely."
"So… if he tries to run…?"
"Yes. Or attacks you –though he assures me he won't– commits crimes, tries to remove it or anything else that breaks your contract in the next five years."
"Five years?!" the teen spluttered.
"And, seeing that Robin seems overjoyed by this," Slade spoke up, "what happens to me if it's him who tries to leave? I'm not going to agree to this if the boy can kill me out of spite."
"Then you will simply be on probation for the remaining time," Bruce explained. "Robin, however, will face consequences of his own. And if my son should die during this time, for whatever reason other than pure accident, then you'll join him."
"What counts as 'leaving'?" Robin asked. "Don't tell me we have to stay in the same room?"
"No. Leaving means leaving the city or living apart, but individual trips can be arranged with permission if absolutely necessary."
"Who is the judge of what's necessary?" Slade asked.
"I am," Bruce replied.
"Thought so. And will the explosives activate according to some programming, or-?"
"No, unless you try to remove it. I can track you through it, and I will be able to track Robin as well through his wedding ring. Robin, you're not allowed to remove the ring for more than a few minutes at the time, to wash your hands and such, unless clearing it with me first. The program will warn me if you seem to be staying away from each other but I'm going to get direct confirmation before, as a last resort, activating the collar, Slade. I'll give you a warning."
"Well, isn't that nice of you, 'dad'," Slade smirked.
"Wait, what if he attacks me?" Robin asked. "How will you have time to confirm that?"
"Well," Bruce gave him a level look. "You were the one wanting to marry a killer, I think it's only fair you take responsibility for that risk."
"I didn't want to marry him, he just popped into my head!" the younger hero hissed.
"Aw. So sweet," Slade chuckled from behind the glass. "I've been thinking about you a lot too, lately." the man added, somewhat darker. Robin swallowed. Slade had every reason to want revenge, after all Robin was one of the reasons he was here; the teen had even been part of the trap luring him in.
"Hey, I spoke up for you at the trial," the teen reminded him.
"Yes, once it became clear to you that they were going to make an example out of me. No more molly coddling criminals, they wanted me to fry."
"I didn't know that when we were trying to catch you!" Robin declared. "I told the jury that you weren't one of the insane ones."
"You just wanted me to rot in jail for life."
"Well… you deserve that," the teen snorted.
Wayne snorted. "It warms my heart to hear you love birds talk, but I have work to do. Getting you out of there won't be easy or cheap, Wilson, so don't disappoint me."
"What if the kid refuses to go through with it?" the man asked. "Or you come to your senses for that matter?"
"If I call it off you are free to go on probation," Bruce said. "When it comes to Robin your protection only starts after the ceremony. If he decided he doesn't want this, you're right back in line for execution," the bat said coldly, making the teen gasp.
"That's not fair!" the Robin exclaimed, and Slade looked like he wanted to state something similar.
"Life's not fair," Bruce snorted. "It's up to you if Deathstroke becomes your husband or a corpse, because I won't change my mind. Now, you can have a few moment alone if you wish." The man stood up. "I'll see you for dinner," he told Robin.
The teen nodded numbly. As the door closed on Bruce the young man looked over at the white haired man behind the glass. Robin blinked.
"You're looking quite smug," he pointed out. "Aren't you afraid I'll bolt?"
"You're a hero with a chance to save a life. I'm not worried at all," the man smirked.
The young man rolled his eyes and then sighed, sinking even further down in his chair. "This is crazy."
"It is," the prisoner agreed. "How did you end up here anyway? I couldn't possibly have been the first choice?"
"No, that was Speedy," Robin snorted.
Slade mimicked the sound. "You and Roy? We have a bigger chance of living happily ever after than that match."
Robin wasn't that surprised that the man knew the redhead's identity, he most likely knew most secrets in the hero and villain community.
"Exactly," he agreed. "I have no idea why Bruce agreed to this match, though," he added, gesturing between them.
"I do. He has this idea that I will be your live-in bodyguard. And as I have to make sure that you are safe to literally save my own neck he's not wrong."
"Oh."
"He probably had the same idea with the young archer, that you'd have a skilled fighter on your side. He knew you wouldn't want to stay at the manor for much longer."
Robin groaned. He had been talking about moving out quite often lately. Not that the manor was crowded, he just wanted his own place. "So that brought this on…" he muttered. "Great… Well, he'll come to his senses in time, I'm sure."
"It's like you don't even know him," Slade chuckled.
"But you must hope so too? You can't possibly want this?"
"A way out of death row and a life in luxury for five years? No, that sounds like a bad deal, what was I thinking?" the man drawled.
"Luxury? He might just throw us out on our asses," Robin snorted.
"I have been assured of a pent house apartment, one that he already owns down town as well as a very generous… allowance."
"He's paying you to stay married to me?!"
"The money isn't my main incentive, that would be not getting my head blown off," Slade drawled. "However, as I pointed out to him, it might not be easy for me to find a job that doesn't breech the rules and makes enough to contribute to our living expenses. You will be working in the company, apparently, but I would prefer to find my own way."
Robin sighed and rubbed his eyes before standing up.
"Alright. Seems like you both have this figured out. I'll play along until he changes his mind, then. I don't have the energy to even be angry anymore."
"Love you too," the man grinned.
It actually made Robin chuckle. "Yeah…" he sighed. "I'll see you, then, I guess."
"Can't wait," the mercenary leered in a way that made the teen blush and flee.
The next morning Robin again choked on his breakfast, but this time it was the newspapers fault. In the biggest letters available, it seemed, the front said "DEATHSTROKE: AMERICAN HERO!"
"How did you manage this?!" Robin asked a smug looking Bruce.
"By being creative. Turns out Mr. Wilson has been working undercover for the government all this time and saved thousands of lives by tipping them off about terrorist attacks. His latest mission was at Blackgate Penitentiary which he had to infiltrate to stop an attack on the white house."
"Wow… people bought this?"
"They did."
"Wow."
"I've had Slade moved to your new apartment this morning. You'll see him at the gala tonight, of course. Hopefully he will have managed to clean up by then," the man added the last part in a disgusted mutter.
He had. And he looked damn good in a tux, Robin had to admit. They were both smiling, more or less stiffly, at each other and the crowd. Bruce had just dropped the bomb, and Slade had been asked the first question by a reporter. That guy probably couldn't believe his luck; having been sent to cover a boring gala and getting this scoop in his lap. He was doing his very best to get as much material as possible.
"How did you meet?" he asked.
"Robin has helped me on missions in the past," Slade began, smiled wider at the teen and pulled him close in a one-armed hug. "We pretended to be enemies to uphold my cover, but he has known the truth for about two years now. It wasn't until about a year ago that we… well. Discovered we felt more for each other than mere respect and friendship."
Robin was trying not to gape. The man sounded so believable that he himself almost bought the story.
"Robin, when will the wedding be?"
"We decided not to wait, we've done enough of that in this dangerous world," the young man said, sending a bright smile of his own at the mercenary. "We'll marry next week. It will be a small ceremony but we want it that way. Sweet and simple." They had been given a date to stick to and Robin hoped he didn't look sick while revealing it.
"Where will you live?"
"Right here in Gotham for now," Robin answered. "This is my first home and my responsibility towards Wayne Enterprises was also a decisive factor."
"What are you going to do for a living, Mr. Wilson?" the reporter then asked.
"I'm not sure yet, but if I can find a way to help protect this city, I'd be happy to do it," the man answered smoothly.
"Mr. Wilson, can you tell us about your missions?" another reporter asked.
"I'm afraid they are all classified, so no. And now my fiancé and I would like to end this interview with one last question."
There was a tiny pause and then the first reporter piped up.
"Can we get a kiss for the cameras?" a multitude of cameras and cell phones rose into the air.
"I think we can do that, can't we?" Slade smiled down on Robin.
"Um… shouldn't we wait until… until the wedding?" the teen tried, and the crowd laughed at what they thought had been a joke.
Slade chuckled and caressed his cheek lovingly, leaning in, and then Robin had no choice but to follow through.
The man wasn't a bad kisser, though, the young hero had to admit, and his head was swimming slightly when they pulled apart. The sound of the crowd has somehow been tuned out but their cheers now came crashing back, almost startling the teen. He must have looked like a deer in the headlights, judging by the mercenary's predatory grin.
As they walked away, Slade's arm encircling him, the man leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"Maybe you should try not to blush like a virgin from just a kiss."
"Maybe I don't believe in sex before marriage?" Robin drawled sarcastically.
"Trust me, if this had been real, I would have convinced you otherwise a long time ago," the man chuckled.
"Are you even gay?" Robin whispered, only now realizing that Slade might be a better actor than he ever thought.
"I'm an opportunist."
"Good to know… I mean… that you're not… disgusted." It was difficult being that open and honest, vulnerable even, but he was still in the tired state of silent acceptance, waiting for this joke to be over.
"I can't imagine anyone feeling disgusted from touching you," the man purred in his ear. "Oh… and you had almost gotten that blush under control. So sorry."
They spent hours making small talk and eating finger food, receiving congratulations left and right. It was torture but Slade kept his cool rather better than Robin who was grinding hit teeth around the second hour.
Robin found that the man had a pretty good, dry sense of humor, though, which he appreciated, especially when they amused themselves with talking about the people they were forced to meet.
"Robin, time to go."
The teen turned around, looking up at his adoptive father.
"Oh. Now?"
"Don't tell me you are having fun," the billionaire drawled, giving Slade a pretty cold look.
"Well…" Robin grinned up at the mercenary and shrugged. "Could have been worse, actually."
"I'm flattered," the man smirked back.
"Well, you're having dinner at the plaza tomorrow night, I'm sure you can't wait," Bruce drawled. "Come on now, it's late enough."
"Why don't you come home with me instead?" Slade asked, his voice so sultry it almost needed a condom.
"He's certainly not," Bruce told them both, frowning.
That instantly made Robin want to go with the mercenary, of course, but he came to his senses, grinned and then shook his head sadly. "Not yet, my love. We're a very traditional family, but soon I'm all yours," he said with almost a completely straight face, making the corners of Slade's mouth twitch.
"Very well, you little tease. As you said, you'll be mine soon enough."
Robin felt a present tingle run up his spine at those words… they were both tantalizing and a bit frightening in a way. He hid behind a laugh and gave the man a wink, making sure Bruce saw it, and then left.
"This will be over soon enough," Robin said confidently over dinner the next night. "He's just playing hard ball."
"With the whole of Gotham watching?" Slade said, subtly nodding towards the main door where they had been ambushed by paparazzi as they arrived. "I don't think he is. Besides, what excuse would he use to stop the marriage while still keeping your dignity and popularity intact?"
"I don't know… kill you?" Robin smirked.
"He could try."
"I wonder who would win if you fought, actually," the teen pondered.
"I would."
"Sure."
"So you would root for your father over your husband?" the man smirked. "How disturbing."
"You're disturbing," Robin smartly retorted, still with laughter in his voice though.
"That aside," Slade, who apparently wasn't going to oppose the claim, said, "he won't do the smart thing here, and that really would be to make you a widow. He's going through with it."
"Not a chance," Robin snorted.
"Well, he's taken it further than I thought he would," Robin admitted a few days later at a photo shoot where the supposed couple were supposedly showing of their 'love nest' AKA the apartment Bruce had decided they were to live in. If was for a series of home decorating and life style magazines, and they were asked questions about the secret of their love and how they made up after an argument. It was rather embarrassing, but Robin was sure it wouldn't last much longer now.
"Okay, this is pushing it," Robin said as he stood next to Slade, preparing to walk down the aisle. It had been decided that they should walk down together, as neither wanted the lesser status of being 'given away'. The teen had almost choked laughing at the idea of Slade being given away, though, and it took quite a long time for the others to convince him that that wouldn't happen. Slade had muttered something about rather frying at the end.
"Aaaaany moment now," Robin whispered as the city official who was marrying them prattled on.
"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed, staring at his piece of wedding cake. "How did this happen?"
"Exactly as Bruce described it a week ago," Slade replied calmly, tasting the sweet treat, making a small face and putting the spoon down. "Lemon," he said in a way of explanation.
"How can you be so calm about this?!" Robin hissed, desperately trying to smile as he did, as people were always watching the newlyweds.
"Because I knew it would happen? Because I prefer this over execution? Although you might make me change my mind."
"Oh, don't worry, I'll be a good husband, I'll let you fuck anyone you want… as long as it doesn't go public," Robin snorted.
"No can do."
"What? Literally, or…?" the teen glanced down into the man's lap.
"Infidelity is against the rules, didn't you know that?"
"Really? For you or-?"
"Both of us."
"We need to go see Bruce."
"Come on!" Robin had dragged his father and brand new husband off to a private room. "It's five years!"
"Infidelity is too much of a risk. Someone will talk."
"Great. Slade, sure you won't take the chair over a five year dry spell?" Robin drawled.
"I might, but I'm not counting on a dry spell," Slade smirked.
Robin was about to tell the man not to get his hopes up, when he saw Bruce's eyes narrow. His father didn't like the innuendo. Hmmm…
"Well, alright Bruce, guess I'm just going to sleep with my husband then," the teen shrugged.
"Of course you're not! You have separate bedrooms!"
"Oh, the 'guest bedroom'… I was thinking office, what do you think, honey?" Robin asked Slade sweetly.
"I think that's a lovely idea," the man agreed.
"Don't degrade yourself like this, Robin, out of spite!" Bruce hissed.
"You are doing quite a good job of that already, with all of this!" the young man growled back. "You expect us to be faithful and celibate for five years?"
"You will be too busy working and you have two functioning hands," Bruce snapped.
"Yes," Slade leered. "And a mouth too… can't wait to try everything out."
"I expect you to behave. Both of you."
"As long as we don't behave as newlyweds in private?" Robin snapped. Then he snorted and threw his arms out. "Fine. I don't know what I expected anyway. It's a sham marriage. It's not like I thought it would be a happy one. And I still can't believe you made me go through with it."
"And here we are… I can't believe thish…" Robin muttered as he, swaying slightly, walked through the door of their new place. Slade had already been living here for a week, but it was spotless.
"Still?" the man chuckled behind him.
"Shtill," the young hero confirmed.
"And here I thought I married an intelligent young man," the mercenary stated airily.
"You did, I jusht have… have shome problemsh with… all of thish."
"I've noticed. You also got quite drunk at the dinner, didn't you?"
"Shlightly. 'm heading to bed," Robin mumbled and stumbled towards the master bedroom while removing his tuxedo jacket.
"Your things are in the other room," Slade called out after him.
"Wait… what? Why?" the teen objected, in a somewhat whiny tone.
"I believe the term is 'dibs'." Slade's voice was crispy dry.
"Pffft… Shkrew you and your dibsh," Robin mumbled and continued to undress as he entered the room. He had spotted that bed and that was where he was heading. The idea of trying to find another room at this point was too daunting.
"I refuse to move, just so you know," Slade told him but Robin has half asleep and wasn't listening. He had dropped his last piece of clothing on the floor and, too tired to try to find a pajamas, just fell on top of the covers. At some point he felt the comforter being placed on top of him and smiled. It had started to feel a bit cold for some reason.
"Oh, hell…" Robin groaned, and curled up in bed. He had just woken up and was regretting it dearly. He did smell coffee, though, and he was hungry. He wasn't sure he could eat, but the added smell of bacon made him want to try. His head was absolutely killing him. He got out of bed. The floor felt weird. The room look weird. The door was on the wrong side. The hallway was the wrong color. The kitchen was much too small… and then there was that guy in a dark blue robe in there, frying bacon.
"What…?" Robin muttered. The man turned around.
"Good morning, sunshine," the guy smirked.
"What?" the teen repeated.
"We're married, remember?"
"What?"
"And we live here now."
"What?"
"Oh, and you're buck naked."
"What?" Robin looked down and then suddenly things clicked into place. It wasn't NICE places, though, and in the worst possible combination. Somehow his brain decided that it was all the kitchen-man's fault. "I hate you!" he growled and fled.
"Lovely start of our marriage," the mercenary chuckled, continuing with breakfast.
Robin returned to bed. Reboot. Start over. Slade had not just seen him naked. Nu-huh. Didn't happen. Then his phone rang. It took a while to find it, so by the time he answered the caller was already irritated.
"What?" Robin answered. There was a pause while his father talked. "Oh, I'm just fine," the teen drawled in reply. "Slade is actually bringing me breakfast in bed now," he said, because that was exactly what seemed to be happening, as the man came into the room carrying a big, amazingly smelling tray. "Thank you sweetie," he smirked at the man.
"No problem, honey," Slade said, close to the phone as he bent down to place the tray in the middle of the bed.
Robin listened to his father for a moment.
"No, of course we didn't!" he snorted and then looked over at Slade, wide eyed. The man chuckled and shook his head, the teen sighing in relief. His eyes widened a little bit again the next moment, though, when Slade shook off his robe and, wearing only his underwear, climbed into bed on the other side. "I got to go, Slade just got into bed with me and is reaching for- oh, he's just getting a piece of toast."
"I'm not about to rape you," the man snorted. "So feel free to continue to strut around with no clothes on."
"He's lying!" Bruce was quickly told. Pause. "I wasn't that drunk! Fine. And now what? Are we on our honey moon? No, I wasn't paying attention; I didn't think you'd go through with it! Of course I didn't, I didn't want him dead!"
"Thank you, love," Slade said around a mouthful of bacon.
"You're welcome honey, but don't talk with your mouth full," the teen sniffed in a teasing tone. Then he turned completely red. "Bruce! He's certainly not! He's eating breakfast!"
"I like the idea, though," the man next to him leered.
"You're going to get me raped, father," Robin groaned. "Or at least severely sexually assaulted. So we are free for the week, then? No stupid events or such? Yeah, we might go out to eat, although Slade seems quite good in the kitchen," Robin snatched a piece of bacon and popped it in his mouth, closing his eyes and enjoying the salty, savory taste. "I'm not moaning!" he defended himself a moment later. "Anyway, I have to go before the coffee gets cold. Trust me, I need it. Bye."
Once he hung up he regretted it, though, because now he was in for some awkward silence. Well, Slade didn't seem to notice as he unfolded the newspaper and began to read.
"Those things are online now, you know," Robin thought he needed to point out after a while.
"Not the same thing," the man told him.
"Bruce likes to read them too."
"Aw, sorry to remind you of your father. Homesick?" the man teased him.
"No! I- never mind."
"Want the funny pages?" the man offered.
"… yes," the teen admitted reluctantly and was handed a section. He was soon almost spitting coffee over it, however. The section with the comics was also the culture and event section and there, big and bold, was a photo of him and Slade kissing.
"We look good together, I think," the man chuckled when he noticed.
"I just can't believe it…"
"Your inability to grasp this whole thing is rather amusing," the man commented and took another piece of toast.
Robin shook his head slowly. "I just… can't." he then looked over at the man. "I'm not the one with explosives around his neck, though. How angry are you on a scale of one two ten? Thirty two?"
"Zero."
"Come on! It's cannot not bother you!"
"It bothers me, but it was the smart thing to do. What should the bat have done? Threatened to slap my wrist if I left?"
"Left? How about strangling me in my sleep… or worse!"
"Worse?" Slade arched an eyebrow while sipping his coffee. "You have to tell me about that later. Give me a few ideas."
"I helped put you on death row."
"You didn't mean to."
"I damn well meant to catch you!"
"Yes, and then things got… a bit too serious, didn't it?"
Robin looked away, popping another bacon slice into his mouth so he wouldn't have to answer that.
"Hmm…" The man looked thoughtful. "I wonder…"
"What?"
"If the reason Bruce agreed to this crazy idea, was that…?"
"Was that what?"
"That he knew that if I fried… you would feel guilty."
"Pft, no. I mean, he's asked me how I felt a few times, 'specially right after the trial, but, no… and that all this happened was just a fluke anyway and-" Robin's eyes grew bigger. "No… no…"
"What?" it was Slade's turn to ask.
"He was… no… no, that's impossible, but… he was reading this paper… with your picture… right there… in my face…. that's why I… but… no…. right?"
"So he suggests something completely insane, works you into a state of hysterics and then holds my picture in front of your face," the man said slowly.
"Oh, fuck me."
"Love to, but now's not the time. Do you think it's true, though? That he set this up?"
"One way to find out," Robin growled and grabbed his phone again. After a lot of signals someone answered.
"Roy? Remember that amazing marriage proposal?... What do you mean, 'funnies joke ever'? You TOTAL ASSHO- Oh. Okay. But why the hell didn't you call me and stopped this? What do you mean 'stopped what' where are you? On the moon?! Mediterranean cruise ship? Not getting a lot of local Gotham news there are you? Well guess what? I'm married! And now guess to whom? Deathstroke the fucking Terminator! Yes! No, it's not another joke! But thanks, you just confirmed something. Yeah, sure, as soon as you come back to the states. I don't think my husband would mind much." Robin looked up at Slade, who frowned. "Well, maybe he would for some reason… oh, it might have something to do with his head blowing off. No, not that head. I'll explain everything later, now go enjoy those people I hear in the background. Bye!" When Robin had hung up he put his head in his hands for a moment and just breathed. "I can't believe this."
"Of course you can't, we've already established that. So the bat made sure you weren't emotionally scarred and got you the best body guard in the world for five years, just enough time for you to grow into your own as an individual and a businessman. Clever man."
"Clever, psycho, it's apparently the same thing." Robin shook his head and sighed, then grimaced. "My head is killing me."
"There are headache pills in the bathroom," Slade told him and nodded towards the ensuite.
Robin grunted and got up, rubbing his temples as he walked. It wasn't until he got back and crept into bed again that he realized that he was still naked.
"You could have warned me!" he hissed at his leering husband.
"Never!" Slade stated.
"Well, it's very unfair, you should strip," Robin told him, and as the man got out of bed he panicked. "No-no-no, I was just jok-oh… damn…"
"Are we even now?" Slade asked, getting back into bed after making sure the young man got an eyeful.
"I don't know about 'even'…" Robin mumbled, still a bit wide eyed. "Um… congrats?"
"You're not bad off yourself," the man chuckled. "Besides, this-" he gestured to his own body, the lower part now covered by the sheets, "-is all yours, you know."
"Oh, that's so generous," Robin groaned. "I'll remember that if I ever need a kidney."
"Not exactly what I meant," Slade sighed in fake sadness.
The teen burst out laughing. "This is too weird. Let's just eat and try to figure out how to make this work, okay?"
"Lets," the man agreed.
"So… you're basically my body guard while I learn the business, is that it?" the teen said a little later as they had eaten and were putting things away, still buck naked. It was like neither of them wanted to admit defeat by covering up.
"That's right. Do you really want to take over, though?" Slade wanted to know. "The business can run fine with just a board of directors. Appoint someone."
"No. I've been thinking about it, but it's a symbolic thing more than anything. Gotham needs Wayne enterprises just as they need Batman, for security and stability, and I think one person leading the business as Bruce is doing and his father before him is important to keep it… human… does that make any sense?"
"Yes, but sacrificing yourself-"
Robin laughed. "I'm not! Sure, there are boring parts like some meetings and don't get me started on the economy, but we invent some amazingly cool stuff! I really want to be part of that, finding things to help society. Supporting the right scientists, making sure what we do isn't misused. If I didn't love that part I would have told Bruce to go out and get himself a biological kid already."
"Well then. Glad to hear it," the man said and gave him a small smile. "This will be a hell of a lot easier without you feeling trapped."
"Yeah… I'm sorry about you, though." Robin looked a bit unhappy.
"Like I said, I'm not upset… it was a close call there, and I prefer to be alive. My only concern is that it will be boring."
"Hey! I'm not boring!" the teen snorted.
"Feel free to entertain me… any way you want," the man purred.
"Sure…" Robin chuckled. "Well, for now I'm taking a shower, and not for your entertainment. The bed was fantastic, by the way, so the guest bedroom is yours."
"How about we share and make the guest room into a home gym?" Slade suggested.
"Hmmm…" Robin somehow got a feeling that if he insisted that they had separate bedrooms he'd lose some points in this strange dare that was going on between them. "Tell you what? We'll try this for a week or so, but if you snore you're out."
"Fair enough, the same goes for you."
"Deal," Robin grinned.
Three weeks later the gym was completely installed, including a rubber-like floor that would be easy to mop. Both of them trained hard, after all, no five minutes rides on an exercise bike here. Robin was leaning against the doorway to the gym, watching a bare-chested Slade bench press. The teen had a smile on his lips. The man, he had discovered, was level headed, had a great sense of humor and was hot as hell. He liked him. A lot. It had taken him a while to admit that to himself, however, and even now it wouldn't lead anywhere. Slade had a plastic band around his neck, for crying out loud. That was the reason he stuck around.
"First you look like you want to jump me and then you frown. I liked your first instinct better," Slade told him.
"Heh, sorry," Robin chuckled, hoping he didn't blush too badly. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to eat tonight. We've been invited to a restaurant opening. We don't have to go, though."
"What kind of food?"
"Italian classic,"
"I wouldn't mind some unburned pasta."
"That was once!" the teen defended himself.
"Still impressive, as it was black."
"Yeah, yeah… so we're going? I need to rsvp."
"Why not? We were out patrolling all night yesterday, I think we deserve a night off."
"Me too," Robin grinned. He enjoyed kicking ass with Slade. It felt much more like they were partners, equals, than it did with Bruce. He thought the mercenary might object to fighting crime, but as Slade said; as long as he got to use his skills he didn't mind on what side he was. Robin felt guilty about Slade's situation, no matter what the man claimed himself, and did try to 'entertain' him as best as he could, as well as keep him away from Bruce. Bruce, when they met, looked way too smug, which tended to give Slade slight twitch in his eye. That couldn't be good.
They hadn't confronted the billionaire about his supposed scheme; instead they had made him very uncomfortable by revealing that they were sharing a room. Bruce had taken Slade aside for a while and the mercenary had returned from that meeting with a very peculiar expression on his face. It turned out that he was simply trying not to laugh, something he burst out doing the moment he and Robin were alone again.
"I'm being gentle with you, aren't I?" the man had asked, actually having to wipe tears from his eye.
"Excuse me?" Robin had said. This had been only a few days into their marriage.
"Bruce was much too uncomfortable to ask straight out if we were fucking so he tried to forbid me from touching you and at the same time saying that he'd better not hear any complaints from you. I pointed out that I never disappoint and I swear he was about to blow my head off," the mercenary had laughed. "That vein of his is going to burst any day."
They had laughed about it together for days afterwards, especially when Bruce called and Robin pointed out that he had no complaints so far.
The Italian restaurant was very good. The guests were all famous people and the outside was teeming with paparazzi, though. They were just leaving when Slade suddenly knocked him to the ground just as a shot rang out.
"Rich bastards!" someone yelled over the screams and shouts of the crowd.
"Stay down, he was aiming for you," Slade barked at his husband and then tried to protect him from being trampled by the panicked crowd. The shooter had been swallowed by it, but as soon as Robin had gotten his bearings he shot up as well.
"Let's get him!" the teen yelled and started making his way against the tide of people.
"For the love of…" Slade grunted, but set off after him.
They had the gunman found and down on the ground within minutes and a little later the police arrived to take over.
"The shot, did it hit anyone?" Robin asked as he was standing up.
"Yes," Slade answered. "Me."
"What?" Robin spun around and only then saw the red stain on the side of the man's shirt, somewhat hidden by his jacket. "We need an ambulance!" he called to the police. "Right now!"
"No, I'm fine, already healing," Slade claimed.
"Your shirt is soaked, you're not fine!" Robin insisted and started to unbutton it, looking for the wound so he could put pressure on it. He found lots of blood but no source. "You're really fine?" he asked, looking up at the man.
"If it makes you feel better the bullet shattered a rib and I will feel that for a few days," the man chuckled, and then winced. "And you just half undressed me in front of fifty paparazzi."
"Idiot…" Robin growled and, carefully, embraced the man, getting blood all over his own front. "You should have told me you were hurt!"
Slade's arms came up to encircle him as well, and for a moment the teen felt that life was pretty damn close to perfect.
"And you should have stayed down," Slade muttered in his ear.
"Let's go home," Robin grinned.
Once they arrived home Robin ushered Slade into the shower and threw their shirts in the laundry. After the man was done he took a quick shower himself. Then he forced a bemused Slade to sit down in front of the TV, a place the man rarely was, to relax while the teen got them both a glass of wine.
"I think we have deserved this," the young man stated as he handed a glass over and sat down next to the man.
"You're just trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me," the man snorted.
"You wish," the teen snorted back.
"Kind of do, yes," Slade smirked.
Robin's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Is that so hard to believe?" the man chuckled. "Have you ever used a mirror?"
Robin then did something very brave; he leaned forward and kissed the man. It was the first kiss they had shared in private. It was chaste and didn't last for very long. As he pulled back Robin watched Slade calmly put his glass down, then take the teen's glass from his hand, putting that on the table as well and suddenly he was being pulled towards the man and kissed silly.
Everything was absolutely perfect until Robin's hand caressed the man's neck and he felt the plastic collar. He froze and then pushed away, still panting.
"I can't. Sorry."
"Why not?" the man looked slightly frustrated, and Robin didn't blame him. He felt the same way.
"That thing," the teen pointed to the collar. "I just… can't."
"Why does this change anything?" the man snorted, running his hand over the almost invisible plastic. "I don't even think about it anymore."
"Because it's what's keeping you here," Robin said. "Who knows, you might be kissing me just to get me to convince Bruce to take it off!"
"That does sound like me…" the man smirked and then shook his head. "I'm not, though. I'm not staying because of this thing; I'm staying because of you."
"I want to believe that, but honestly Slade, would you? In my situation?"
"No, you're right." the man sat up a little straighter. "I guess I'd better do something about that, then," he said and tore the plastic collar off.
Robin opened his mouth in a scream that somehow didn't happen. It turned into a yell a moment later, though.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"Well, it was a bit of a gamble, but-"
"YOU'RE FUCKING INSANE! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!"
"I was pretty sure it was a bluff even before we figured out that Bruce set this whole thing up," Slade stated calmly.
"YOU'RE KNEW?! YOU KNE-" here Robin was silenced by a kiss and, as that went on, decided that he might not be very angry after all. Soon they were lying on the couch, shirts were off, legs entwined and- Bruce came busting through the door.
"Watch out!" he yelled before taking the scene in fully.
"Well, hello 'dad', I didn't know we planned on having you over tonight," Slade said calmly.
"Hi!" Robin waved at his father from under his husband. Not awkward at all.
"What's going on here!?"
"Depends. Do you want a biology lesson, or-"
"The alarm on the collar went off!"
"Yes. It didn't blow up, though, strangely enough," Slade said coldly. "And about strange things-"
"Bruce," Robin interrupted quickly. "Everything's fine. Go home."
"And send someone to fix our door first thing in the morning," Slade told him.
"Robin, are you sure everything's-"
"Yes. Yes very. This is getting weird. Please leave."
"Fine. But we'll talk about this."
"No. No we won't."
"You're right. We won't," Bruce agreed and turned on his heel. After the man had closed the now slightly broken door behind him, Slade grinned down at the teen.
"So… where were we?"
"About to head to the bedroom?" Robin suggested with a grin.
"As my husband demands," the former mercenary grinned back.
The next morning Slade was gone. Robin thought he was just in the bathroom, but after walking through the whole place he checked and it was empty.
"I'm such an idiot," he muttered to himself. Of course Slade wouldn't stick around. He had gotten what he wanted. Three times, actually. And now that he knew that Bruce knew he probably took off just in case the bat would force him to wear a real device.
It hurt. Badly. And the look Bruce would have on his face… that smug 'I was right' look… He couldn't stand that! Fuck! Robin grabbed the closest thing, a coffee mug from the kitchen counter, and smashed it on the tiled floor. Then his phone rang and without thinking he moved towards it where it lay on the coffee table, stepping in the ceramic shards. It wasn't as bad as glass, but some still dug deep into his foot and he was leaving bloody footprints behind as he hurried towards his phone.
"Yes?!" he answered.
"Oak or hemlock?"
"What?"
"What color do you want?" Slade clarified.
"WHAT?"
"For the door? What's wrong, you sound strange."
"I… dropped a mug. Cut my foot."
"Can't leave you alone for a second, can I? Anyway, I'm down in the lobby talking to the door people and they want to know what color we prefer on the new door and frame?"
"The quickest one to it so we can close it and fuck all day?" Robin suggested, a big grin on his face.
"I hear you. Whatever's in stock. Doesn't even have to match."
"That's correct," the teen chuckled. "Now, um… can you come up and help me with my feet?"
"Already on my way," the man let him know.
The teen hung up and then let out a big sigh, almost a sob. It seemed that maybe, just maybe they would live happily ever after.
The End
A/N: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year…. no more sladin in the pipeline right now, but I will try to get The Good Boy close to finished this break…