A/N: read the first part, and especially the top AN of it first! You don't HAVE to read this part, it's like I said in that note, a different style and more… "domestic".
A Conversation with Death part 2
He came to only a few moments later, at least he didn't think it could have been long, when he was lifted onto something. A stretcher.
"-too dangerous to take to the hospital," he heard a voice say.
"JC Penitentiary?" another unknown voice asked.
"Yeah," the first one confirmed.
"I'll ride with him," Robin's voice was heard.
"Got much medical training, kid?" the first voice snorted.
"There's nothing you can do that his own healing abilities can't do better," Robin snapped back. "When he wakes up he might get violent. So either you face that or I."
Slade still hadn't opened his eye so he didn't see what went on between the three people, but apparently unknown voice number one, an ambulance driver the man assumed, thought better of arguing with the young hero.
Slade didn't really want to be transported to the most secure holding facility on the west coast, but he was strangely weak. Not opening his eye wasn't part of a plan; he simply didn't have the energy to. His body had more or less shut down everything that didn't have to be running to keep him alive and was clearly focusing on the hole in his chest. He wasn't going anywhere for a while. He was loaded onboard the ambulance and heard Robin give his team some muffled orders before the teen settled next to him. Then he felt his hand being grabbed and held as the car doors closed.
If Slade had had the energy he would have chuckled. He couldn't help a small smirk curl his lips, though.
"You're awake?" Robin asked him.
The man tried to find the energy to answer, but it was easier to just slightly curl his fingers around the teen's hand.
"You'll be okay," the teen told him, apparently with all the assurance he could muster. His voice sounded awkward, though, and Slade didn't blame him. This was the closest they had ever been without fighting and the boy must be feeling guilty. The mercenary hoped that he, somewhere deep inside, also felt victorious. He and his team had won. He had every reason to be proud.
"Sure…" Slade agreed hoarsely finally finding some energy. His mouth tasted of death, and he made a face.
"Do you want something to drink? Or should you wait?" the young hero wanted to know, having heard the raspy voice.
"Better… wait… not… sure… damage…"
"Oh… of course." His hand was squeezed slightly. Slade didn't squeeze back this time, he was already blacking out again.
Robin couldn't believe the man next to him was even alive. He was sure Slade was dead when he had run up to him, but he had found a pulse. Well. Not a pulse that would have kept a normal human being alive, but the undamaged part of his heart seemed to do it's best to at least get some blood flowing.
The young man felt elated, though still worried. And he didn't understand either of those feelings. Slade was the enemy. Someone who needed to be stopped. But dying? No. No, that was… the teen felt a roaring sense of loss and loneliness rip through him at the very thought. Why? Why was this man so important? This villain? He wouldn't have been in an ambulance with Johnny Rancid. He would have called the ambulance, sure, but coming with it? Holding his hand? No, not in a million years. And Rancid was much less likely to just suddenly heal up and kill everyone in the vehicle, Robin included. Slade might be injured, but his visible wounds were healing so fast that the hero could actually see it. He seemed pretty out of it, though… which was good. The teen eyed the restraints on the gurney. The ambulance men had secured Slade before they left but the teen wasn't sure it would hold if the man had his full strength. Luckily it was a short drive.
"I… spoke… to … death…" the voice was barely a whisper.
"Huh? I mean… you didn't die, though, Slade, you're going to be okay, don't worry," Robin answered.
The man made a grunting noise, a mix between a cough and a chuckle. "He looked… like you…"
"Slade… I … I'm really sorry for what happened! It was an accident, we never meant-"
"I… don't… blame you…"
"Okay… okay… good, I… you're gonna be okay," Robin repeated, not sure what to say, but also worried the man might go into some kind of panic attack.
"He… sent me back…"
"Yes, yes, he did," Robin agreed. "And it's all gonna be-"
"To… you."
"I… what?"
"To you."
"I… okay…? I… well… good!" Robin decided. Slade was clearly only half conscious, the important thing was to keep him calm.
"I… don't know… what that means…" Slade admitted.
That makes two of us, Robin thought dryly to himself. "Don't worry about it now, alright? We'll figure it out."
"If…" the man coughed a little. "If I let them take me to prison now…" the man said, then having to stop to breathe, "then… you'll come see me."
It wasn't a question, it was an order. Robin almost laughed as it was a bit ridiculous that the severely injured man thought he could give the leader of the Teen Titans an order, but he was curious enough to agree to the opportunity.
"Of course," he answered.
"Good. Need to… sleep."
"You do that," Robin said and the man's body seemed to relax again.
When Slade next woke up he was in a cell, strapped down on a bed, naked with a sheet covering him. Lots of little electrodes were attached to his skin, measuring everything and anything they could, he guessed. His body had clearly shut down in order to heal and now he was feeling better. Weak, but better.
"Mr. Wilson?"
Slade turned his head slightly and spotted someone in a white coat and medical face mask. A doctor, by the looks of it.
"Yes?" he grunted.
"I am doctor Eric Thompson," the man introduced himself. "I would like to come in and check your status, are we going to have a problem with that?"
Only now Slade saw that there was a glass wall separating the two of them.
"No, we're not going to have a problem," he said, agreeing to be "good" with a little sneer.
"Wonderful." The man sounded like he trusted him as far as he could throw him, but still came in and did his job. Slade admired that kind of courage in a way, and behaved perfectly, answering the man's questions and going along with the tests the man wanted to do.
"Do you remember what happened to you?" the doctor asked once he was done.
"Yes. Mostly." Slade amended. "There was a fight, with the Teen Titans. I fell and was pierced by crystal chards created by one of them, Raven. It was an accident."
"Is that important to you?"
Slade raised an eyebrow. "Psychologist too?"
"Double majors as well as a psychiatrist-specialty," he was told, the brown eyes crinkling a bit in a dry smile. "They thought it might be needed with you."
"They were probably right," Slade chuckled slightly.
"And the answer?"
"It's important."
"Why?"
Slade sighed. He was getting tired again and thought he'd better just answer to get the man out of here so he could sleep. "I don't want the Titans to be blamed. I especially don't want them to feel guilty."
"Interesting. Do you remember what happened after you fell?"
"I died."
The doctor blinked. "You did?"
"Yes. Met death and everything. We had a conversation. Which is partly why I'm not smashing your face into the glass right now and escaping."
"Partly?"
"The other part has mostly to do with that I'm tired. My muscles need time to regain strength even after healing, and as one of the muscles damaged was my heart… I need a few days."
"Good to know."
"I might be lying."
"Noted."
Slade chuckled. He rather liked this man. Would he kill him if he had to? Absolutely, but hopefully that need wouldn't arise.
"You said you met death?"
"Yes."
"And… how do you feel about that?"
Slade gave the man a level look, and Doctor Thomson actually looked somewhat ashamed to be asking such a question.
"I'd rather discuss that with someone else."
"Do you have a professional we could contact?"
"Robin. Of the Teen Titans."
"Not… the kind of professional I had in mind."
"He's involved."
"Why?"
"Because he's the one we spoke about."
"You and… death?"
"Yes."
"And… are you… angry at Robin?"
It was Slade's turn to look somewhat stunned. "No."
"So… you and death didn't speak of… revenge?"
Slade rolled his eye. "No. But it's personal. I won't talk to anyone else about that, but let's just say… it made me see things a bit differently."
"Would you say it changed you?"
"Too early to tell." Slade sighed and frowned, starting to get a little bit irritated. "Listen, doc, you seem to be a decent man and you can tell your employees that I don't intend to be any trouble whatsoever while I'm here, and I always keep my word. I do, however, insist that Robin will be granted permission to see me, once he comes to ask for it."
"And you're sure he will come? You're not asking us to contact him?"
"No, he'll come to see me. That's important. He gets a little… testy, when people try to boss him around."
"Is that something you recognize in yourself?"
"Funny. I need to sleep. And when I wake up I'm going to need food, lots of protein. These bags," Slade nodded towards the drip connected to his arm, "won't do it. If someone has to feed me, that's fine, but I would prefer to eat myself of course. Understood?"
"I will pass the message along. We'll talk more tomorrow, Mr. Wilson."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"That would be appreciated, I'm sure. Are you in any pain? You are on a low dosage of painkiller at the moment-"
"You can cut that off, it's not needed."
"Very well," the doctor fiddled with one of the drips. "There. We'll let you sleep. There's a button by your right hand, push that when you wake up."
"Will do," Slade agreed.
Slade Wilson was kept in a reinforced cell in isolation, though he was never very isolated. From the moment he was properly awake a long row of people kept coming and going, although only a few entered the actual cell, most of them kept to the large area outside it. Care-staff like the doctor and a few nurses were the first, but then the lawyers in expensive suits started to visit, followed by blank-faced men and women in black suits, along with the grumpier looking men and women in military uniforms.
Slade kept calm and cooperative and was soon allowed up and to get dressed and, although the orange scrubs of the prison rather itched, he preferred them to being naked. Not that he had any reason to be ashamed, but it felt more… human. It was easy to feel like an animal in a cage and he wondered if he had incentive enough to stay here long. But then Robin visited.
"Sorry," the young man said as he sat down on the other side of the glass. "There was a bit of red tape and I wanted to wait until you were better."
"All I need to do is rebuild my strength," Slade told him, watching how those masked eyes seemed to try to take him in all at once. "You've never seen me with my mask off," he realized.
"N-no," the teen coughed to hide the stutter. "Sorry for staring."
"Not at all. Hope you're not disappointed." Slade didn't want to fish for compliments but he enjoyed watching the young man's cheeks turn a bit red.
"I… so… so how are you doing? Better you said? How's life in here?" Robin quickly asked.
"On hold," the man told him. "But it gives me some time to think… and for us to talk."
"Yes, I… you said… you had an… experience?"
Slade told the boy what had happened, watching the emotions shift on the masked face. Once he finished Robin was quiet for a while.
"You… you know that these kinds of things happen, right? That it's a trick of the mind? Brain lacking oxygen or something like that? Hallucinations?" the young man said carefully.
Slade tilted his head slightly to the side as he considered this. He wasn't used to people not believing him and he sure as hell wasn't used to his mind playing tricks on him, but of course he had heard about near death experiences and the research surrounding them.
"There wasn't a bright light or a beloved relative," he said, defending his point of view.
"Of course not, your own brain set it up. This death character even told you so. So you basically told yourself that it was all in your mind."
"So you are telling me to ignore it and go on as before?" Slade asked smoothly.
Robin opened his mouth and then closed it again, very close to falling into the trap. "Um… I… well, even though it was all in your head, you were clearly trying to tell yourself something."
"That I wanted to fuck you?"
"W-what?" The teen pushed away from his seat, almost getting to his feet, and Slade snorted, realizing he had been a bit too blunt with the young hero. "The hell? What if people are listening?!" the teen continued.
"It was a joke. Sort of," the man said. "And no one is listening, certain people made very sure that what is said in this room stays here… to protect themselves, but as it turns out it benefits me as well. So… what was it you thought I wanted myself to know?"
"That you should live a better life, of course!" Robin spluttered. "Those scales! Death, that is, your subconscious, was telling you that you still had a chance to better yourself, to make amends!"
"I think you need to be sorry to do that."
Robin looked at him and Slade could feel the heat of the gaze behind the mask. "I think you are."
"Really?"
"If you're not I see no reason I should waste my time on you," the young man snapped.
"Then there might be no reason for me to stay here." It wasn't a threat, not really, at least Slade didn't think so, but Robin's mouth set in a grim line.
"Are you saying that this is up to me? Are you blackmailing me?"
Slade sighed. This hadn't turned out the way he had hoped and it was, unfortunately, his own fault.
"No. I don't know what happened. It might have been real, it might have been my subconscious, that might not be important. Maybe I don't feel a need to 'better' myself, but rather… reevaluate what I want in life… and clearly I want more than what I have."
"Umm… me?"
"Well, obviously not yet. You're only seventeen."
"For another six months or so, yeah," Robin almost muttered, looking uncomfortable. "But… it's all sexual, then? You want to sleep with me, and that's it?"
"No. Not at all. But I'm not interested in a sexless relationship. It's not a friendship I want, Robin, I don't want us to play chess."
"At all?" the teen blinked, and it took a moment for Slade to realize that he was joking. The man chuckled.
"Well, if you feel up for a game sometimes, sure," he amended. "I want us to be together. But we can't be, in the current circumstances."
"Yeah, you being in prison-"
"I mean, me being a villain."
"Oh. Oh, yeah, that would… be a problem too."
"If it wouldn't be, just let me know and we'll leave right now. We could be fucking within the hour."
"Seventeen, remember?"
"Would a villain care?"
"Point taken." The young man let out a small, embarrassed laugh and shook his head as he was massaging his neck with both hands. "This is… a bit sudden."
"You've never considered this? Are you straight?"
"Only now you think of asking that?" Robin snorted.
"Well, so far we've only talked about what I want. And I would have expected you to blurt out that you were straight earlier if you were."
"I don't know what I am, I'm a hero, that has kinda been enough," the teen sighed.
"I can work with that."
"Confident, are we?" Robin glared.
"Very."
Robin snorted, the pink tint of his cheeks seemed reluctant to fade.
"This is a bit crazy," he muttered, more or less to himself.
"Yes. Not what I planned to do either," Slade agreed.
"You did hit your head in the fall too, are you sure about this? I mean, people come back from traumas with changed personalities and like… hearing the voice of God and stuff…?" Robin said carefully. "Did you wake up from your… experience… and suddenly decided this is what you wanted?"
"Ah, I see why that would be worrisome…" Slade nodded. "No, I've been interested in you for a while. I was just reluctant to give up my career to pursue you, but this made me change my mind. No matter if it was a real experience or not, life is short. Well, possibly, anyway, and I don't want to waste more time that I could spend in bed with you."
"You're very sex oriented, aren't you?" Robin gave the man a glare.
"Well, do you blame me? I'm in prison!"
"For not even a week!"
"Still," Slade shrugged.
"And speaking about you being in prison, I'm assuming you're going to stay here until I'm dead from old age," the teen said. Slade thought the tone was at least slightly morose.
"We'll see about that," the man smirked at him. "But it will probably be a while, yes. I hope you'll come visiting me?"
"Yes, but the guys in charge have only allowed me one visit a week," the teen told him. "Security risk and such."
"Hmmm… well, you're a smart young man, I think you can think of a way around that," the man grinned. "Even if Robin only can come visit me once a week."
Robin blinked, not understanding, but filing it away for later.
The hero's communicator started beeping all of a sudden, and the teen got on his feet. "I have to go. I'll see you next week and we'll try to… figure this out, somehow…" he said, looking rather torn and lost.
"We will. Don't go fall in love with any other villains out there, will you?"
Robin snorted as he fled.
As the weeks passed Robin came to visit him every Sunday. Every Wednesday he also had a young visitor, a university student from Gotham who, somehow, had gotten permission to do weekly interviews with the man for a psychology paper.
"So, Dick, how was your week?" Slade greeted the young man.
"Pretty quiet, apart from yesterday. Ran into a bit of trouble," Robin sighed. "Do you know anything about pier thirty-two?"
"Might do," the man nodded.
"Lovely, then you'll tell me about it, right?" the teen grinned.
"Will I?" Slade asked, feigning surprise.
"Yes, because you like me," The teen's grin grew bolder.
"Are you using my interest in you for your own gains?" the man wanted to know.
"Yes," Robin stated clearly.
"Good boy, I'm proud of you," the prisoner chuckled. They shared a look and a short laugh, Robin shaking his head.
"No but seriously, can you tell me anything? Goods seem to be appearing and disappearing and we can't figure out how. We've checked the walls, the floor, the roof… no one seems to be coming and going and still it's like the hub for illegal goods…"
"Just like magic, huh?" Slade smirked, giving him a meaningful look.
Robin smiled widely. "Aw, thank you!"
"Well, I didn't officially name anyone," the man shrugged.
"Of course not," the teen snickered. "So… what has been going on with you?"
"They have been taking some tests," the man muttered, clearly not happy about that.
Robin straightened up. "What tests? What are they doing? Against your will? Have they hurt you?"
The mercenary gave the young man a genuine smile. "So sweet of you to worry. No, I agreed, but I don't like the purpose. They are trying to figure out how my powers work and I don't know if they will try to compose some kind of my own personal kryptonite or use it to try to give it to others. Both options are… unappealing. But it's part of the deal."
"I wish you would tell me more about this deal," Robin almost pouted. "There is nothing at all in the media, I can't find a set court date… what are your lawyers up to?"
"Oh, they are doing well," Slade chuckled. "It just takes a long time to finalize. Lots of politics."
Robin felt a rush of impatience but just took a deep breath and then sighed. During the last couple of weeks, he had gotten to know the man behind the glass quite well and, apart from the man being a bit too sure of himself and somewhat crude at times, the teen liked what he saw. He had quietly come to terms with the fact that he had nurtured a secret interest in the villain himself for a long time and that it wasn't guilt that had caused him to get into that ambulance after all, nor was it guilt that drew him here twice a week and made him think about the man in between. His fears that Slade had had some sort of brain-damage-induced delirious episode and would snap out of it at any point had also been laid to rest. Slade had gone through something, whether real or not was unimportant, that had changed his point of view, and for the better. Robin was happy to support that, and happy to drag out the visits until security insisted on him leaving.
His finger was drawing circles on the glass that separated them as he thought things over. He was started out of his musings by Slade's finger copying his own on the other side of the glass and looked up into an amused face.
"You were really lost in thoughts there for a while," the man told him, his tone rather soft.
"Yeah, sorry." Robin looked embarrassed as he withdrew his hand, but then slammed his palm into the glass irritably. "This is stupid! Why won't they let me see you face to face? You've been in here for three months now and behaved perfectly!"
"They aren't stupid. I'm much too valuable to them at this point to even give me any ideas. And you're forgetting you're here as Dick. A young college student up close with a mercenary and assassin? They might as well feed you to the wolves."
"But you wouldn't harm me!"
"I'd sure as hell ravage you," the man leered.
"Yes, well… I wouldn't mind that," Robin grinned back. He still blushed, though.
Slade secretly loved that he did.
They couldn't really discuss the future, but they always had other subjects to talk about especially ethics. Robin was fascinated with the man's sense of right and wrong, of how the man justified or didn't justify his life choices. They had had heated rows but it always led to deeper understanding even though they had to agree to disagree at some points.
Slade watched as the teen's fingers started playing on the glass again. It frustrated him that the young man was subconsciously reaching out to him and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, not without ruining everything. His whole body itched to touch the hero, draw him close, explore his body with hands, body, mouth-
"I think someone else is zoning out," Robin chuckled. "Anyway, wanna see the next episode? We should just have time before they throw me out."
"I really need to talk to them again about the time frames…" Slade muttered but moved his chair so he could see the iPad Robin had propped up as the Walking Dead episode started to play. They had watched a few movies together and eventually decided to watch the series as neither of them had seen it, but they had thought it might give them interesting things to discuss about the human nature. They had been right.
Three months later it was a special day.
"Happy birthday," Slade announced the moment Robin, in civilian clothes as Dick Grayson again, walked in.
"Thank you," the teen smiled, stopping inside the door to take his coat off. It was still cold out there although spring was in the air.
"I have a present for you."
"You do?" Robin blinked as Slade started to smirk. "I didn't expect any. It's not like you can go shopping," he added. The man's smirk turned into a leer as Robin continued. "Did you get someone to buy- oh, my god you are talking about your dick, aren't you?" the teen exclaimed.
"I'm always talking about you," the man chuckled.
"You are just… too much…" Robin said but had already burst out laughing.
"Hopefully not," the man leered.
"Shut up. And please don't unwrap it," Robin was still chuckling.
"I won't. But close your eyes for thirty seconds."
"I swear that if I look up and you're naked I'm walking out that door, and I'm not coming back," the hero warned him.
"Noted. Close your eyes, count aloud."
"I'm going to regret this…" the young man groaned but did as the prisoner asked.
He had only reached fifteen when he suddenly felt something against his lips. His eyes flew open just as the man in front of him pulled back a little, smiling cheekily.
"You… you… you're out? I… are you… allowed to?" Robin looked around like he expected a SWAT team to burst through the door.
"Yes, this is all part of a deal, if only for today," the man chuckled. "Though I think we'll wait with your present until we're somewhere else."
"Yeah, I'm not doing that here," Robin snorted and then looked up at the man again, a big smile spreading on his face. "I can't believe it… it's like you're… real," he said, his hands coming up to gently glide over the man's scrub-clad chest and arms. Slade seemed equally eager to touch him and pulled him closer. Robin stood on his tip toes, tilting his face up, silently begging to be kissed, something the man was happy to do.
The teen felt lightheaded and wound his arms around the man's neck for support as the kiss deepened.
"Mmm…" Robin moaned, his whole body tingling, exploding in heat wherever the man's hands went.
Slade broke the kiss. "Oh, don't make that sound, I don't have enough self control," the man growled into his ear.
Robin gave an excited, breathy laugh, a hint of nervousness to it. The butterflies in his stomach were having a crazy party and he couldn't decide whether to dive in deeper into this or flee.
"Are you alright?" Slade asked him quietly.
Robin nodded a bit frantically.
"Is this alright?" Slade continued, indicating the whole situation.
Same nod again.
The man chuckled and grabbed the young man's chin, tilting his face up again another kiss.
The nervousness in Robin's stomach almost melted away with the next kiss, but who could be nervous when they ran out of breath and their blood wasn't feeding their brain anymore? When the kiss stopped this time, the teen couldn't stop grinning. "I can't believe this," he declared breathlessly. "I kinda… never thought…"
"Ah…" the man gave a small smile and backed away. "Would you like something to eat? Drink? I have ordered refreshments." He moved away and the teen stared at his back.
"Wait-" Robin started. "What… what happened? Why do you sound so… weird?"
"Like you said. You never actually considered this. Us. Together. The fantasy was fine, but now you don't know what to think."
"No! I'm overwhelmed, yeah, but I couldn't be happier!" Robin exclaimed. "God, have you ever kissed yourself! Give me a fucking break!"
Slade paused and turned towards him, eyebrow raised. "So this isn't second thoughts?"
"No! And you'd better not have any of those either, because you're mine!" the hero declared.
The next moment Robin was in the man's arms again, not sure who had moved the fastest.
A while later Slade withdrew again, chuckling this time. "I do have some refreshments, let's take a little break?"
"Getting tired, old man?" Robin smirked, his lips red and puffy.
"Do you want our first time to be in a prison cell?" the man smirked. "How about something sparkly?" he added, gesturing to a bottle cooling on a low table that made up a relaxing area with soft chairs that the men in suits tended to use. There was also a conference table out here, at which many heated meetings had been held. Slade rather resented being kept in a cage in a lounge, but it was the way it was.
"Champagne?" Robin asked.
"They wouldn't allow any alcohol I'm afraid, but it's supposed to be a good substitute," the man said as he opened the bottle. He poured the bubbly liquid into two tall glasses and handed Robin one.
The teen sniffed the champagne colored drink and carefully tasted it. "Not bad," he said. "I prefer non-alcoholic anyway."
"It's alright," the man concurred, and sat down in one of the oversized armchairs. Robin sat down in the one opposite him, feeling like he was sinking down in the thing. He sipped the drink again, but something just felt wrong. He glanced over at the man and realized what was missing. A moment later he was in Slade's chair, squeezed in next to him, his legs over the man's knees.
"There's just no way I won't be touching you as long as you're available," he announced with a cheeky grin.
Slade just chuckled and put an arm around him. "I won't argue with that," he said.
"How long… I mean… will they let you out like this from now on, or…?"
"Only today. Special reward for being good," the man half smirked half grimaced.
"I don't know whether to thank them or yell at them…" Robin muttered. "It's cruel in a way…"
"Well, there is one more thing…" the man told him. "Things are coming together. Unless we have some sort of political panic or someone loses their nerve, everything should be done soon."
"I want to be excited, but you still haven't told me what is going on!" the hero reminded him. "What will be done? The trial? What?"
"There will be no trial," Slade smiled.
"Um… I'm not sure if you know how the justice system works…" Robin said.
"You, young, innocent boy, are the one who has no idea," the man smirked. "You see, if you kill your boss or your wife in a rage, you go away. You're a liability. You get locked up. If you are really good at killing, though… and I mean, really, really good… well… to certain people that's worth something."
Robin's eyes had gotten rounder and rounder. "Are you… are you saying that those people… the military… the suits…?"
"They are all representing my client. You are looking at the very unofficial assassin of the United States."
"Oh." Robin looked down and took a long sip from his glass.
"Do I detect a tone of disapproval?" the man asked him dryly.
"I just… I thought that… you wouldn't do that sort of thing anymore," Robin shrugged.
"It's what I know," the man said seriously. "It's what I had to bargain with. I am not going to rot in prison for the rest of my life. If they hadn't been willing to deal then I would have had to leave here, and leaving would mean losing you."
The teen's heart fluttered a bit, against his will.
"You're saying you… did it for me?"
"I would be out there either way. Without the deal I would have been out of here after a week. With more innocent blood on my hands, probably."
"… You couldn't be good at ANYTHING else…?" Robin sighed, but his eyes glittered a little bit. "Officially approved murders, huh?"
"For the security of the country," Slade added.
"Or to gain power and riches for the already rich and powerful," Robin added dryly.
"Good boy," the man chuckled and tousled his hair. "You're learning."
"I don't like it," the teen sighed. "Will take a bit of getting used to."
"Comes with a lot of perks, though," the man leered at him.
"Yes, sex, right?" The teen rolled his eyes.
"And a luxury penthouse apartment here in Jump, a hunting lodge in the rocky mountains, a villa in Italy, A permanently reserved suite at a five star hotel on Hawaii and a dozen more properties, a wide range of vehicles and a monthly salary as well as a bonus per job based on difficulty."
"… so…. this killing people business, how do I get a piece of that?" Robin joked.
"I think you better stay in your own line of work, I don't want the competition you would bring," the man smiled.
"Thanks. I think." The teen chuckled and then emptied his glass and reached for the bottle. "I know it's alcohol free, but somehow I feel that I need more," he grunted.
"I understand that it's a lot to get used to, and there are downsides. I can and will be called away at any time, for an indefinite amount of time, but on the other hand, your alarm can go off at any time too."
"Yes, I mean… I grew up like that, so that won't be that much of a problem… well, you being gone for long amount of time might be, but… you know… that's how it is."
"We were never going to be a normal couple," Slade nodded. "And I know you are still trying to accept it, but what about the rest of the Titans…?"
"Well, like we talked about… they are… somewhat okay with you now, although, once you come out, I don't know… and your job? Can we just say you work for the government?"
"If that's what you want?"
"I don't think they need to know every detail… and if you work for the government it's natural that you can't talk about it. I just want them to get to know you."
"Aw, that's sweet," the man chuckled. "And I'll play nice with them for your sake, but to make one thing clear: I have no interest of being part of a family of teenagers. It's you I'm interested in. Us. I don't want them around 24-7, it would drive me insane."
"That's Beast Boy," Robin smirked. "But I understand. I'm ready for that too. For something more… adult."
"Well, trust me, it will be," the man leered, making Robin roll his eyes again.
"Five minutes," a voice suddenly said from hidden speakers.
"No! No, that was too short!" Robin complained, and Slade gave a grunt of agreement.
"Yes, sorry, they only agreed to a short time as I were to be free. I forgot to tell you," he said regretfully.
Robin hurriedly put his glass down and straddled the man's lap, facing him, before kissing him deeply, a kiss that neither seemed to want to end.
"You need to be really fucking nice and say please and thank you a lot so they don't keep you in here for a moment longer than they have to!" the teen warned the mercenary.
"Yes, Sir," Slade grinned. "You'd better get off my lap, though, or they will open the door to see the heir to the Wayne fortune in the lap of a killer, and that might not help either of us.
"Yeah, shit," Robin gasped and gave the man one last, quick kiss, before flying into the chair opposite just in time for the guards to knock and enter.
Eight days later Robin was walking into Slade's apartment for the first time. He was used to luxury, of course, but the place still took his breath away. Everything from the layout to the furniture to the art on the wall was exquisite.
"So you approve?" Slade asked.
"Your place is amazing!" Robin exclaimed.
"Our place. At least I hope you will come to see it as that. Or a home away from home at the very least," the man told him and handed him a key and keycard.
"I… wow… I…"
"I don't think there is such a thing as moving too fast when you know what you want, but I'll happily wait for you to catch up," the man smirked. "I have ordered dinner. Don't want to mess up the kitchen on the first night. I thought we'd eat in the dining room, mind helping me setting things up?"
Robin quickly agreed as he pocketed the key and card. Slade had been released that morning but the hero and his team had been busy battling a horde of little demons summoned by the H.I.V.E after some of them got really drunk at a party. It had been chaos.
"It smells amazing,"
"I hope you like Thai food? A bit unimaginative perhaps, but…"
"Thai is great," Robin hurriedly assured the man. "A take out luxury compared to pizza."
They talked amiably about the apartment and life outside prison as they ate. Robin was wondering if he should hint to Slade that he had his toothbrush and a pair of fresh underwear in the pocket to his jacket. Slade, on the other hand, was wondering if the hero would flee if he asked if he wanted to stay the night. They both decided to wait and see while picturing using the dinner table for other things than eating.
After dinner they were in the living room, sitting in the corner of the huge sofa, nursing very strong cups of coffee.
"I need to buy some other kinds of pods or I'm never sleeping again," Slade muttered.
"I like it, but yeah… something a bit milder might be nice once in a while. Maybe some hot chocolate too?" Robin suggested.
"Hot chocolate?" Slade said in a voice like Robin had suggested goat milk lattes.
"Yeah, I… well, no I guess it's not quite…" the teen started and then his voice died out, as he felt more than a little stupid.
"If you want hot chocolate, you'll get it," Slade snorted. "I wasn't even aware that they made it."
"No, I assume big bad villains don't drink it a lot?" Robin smirked.
"Maybe that's the problem," Slade chuckled. "I'll try it. But don't tell anyone."
"Lovely. I'll get black mail material!" Robin's grin widened.
"The government might fire me. They can't employ a hit man that drinks hot coco," the man groaned playfully.
Robin, however, was reminded of Slade's new occupation and sighed.
"I don't like you doing this," he said and then immediately raised a hand. "I know, I know! All government approved and the country's security and all that jazz, but still. Not a fan. I at least wish you didn't enjoy it."
"You think I enjoy killing people?" One of the man's eyebrows has risen up, but Robin couldn't detect any annoyance in the voice.
"Of course you do," the teen snorted. "It's a way to show your true skill. Hunting animals is probably a thrill, sure, but that can't possibly compare to a target that might be armed, might be intelligent, hard to get at, sometimes with the security of a whole nation at their back. You'll need all your knowledge and cunning and it must be a thrill to-" Robin suddenly noticed that the man was grinning at him, and realized what he was doing. "Oh, damn," he muttered.
"Well, I couldn't have defended my choice of occupation better myself," Slade smirked.
"Didn't quite mean to do that," the hero snorted.
"I know. And I do need that thrill, but… I could have found it somewhere else. The choice isn't mine, though," the man said the last words with a level of bitterness Robin hadn't heard in his voice before. The teen put his now empty cup down on the coffee table and turned to the man, putting his cup away as well.
"I'm sorry," the teen mumbled and got even closer to the man, kissing his cheek lightly. "Complaining was selfish of me."
"No, I understand. It's not an ideal situation." The bitterness in the voice was still present to some degree.
Robin smoothly straddled the man's lap and smiled down on him softly. "Anything I can do to make you feel better?"
The look in the single eye changed and turned warmer again.
"I can think of a few things, maybe," the man admitted.
"Just name them. I'm all yours," Robin managed to tell him before his lips were taken over.
Robin had faced many tricky situations in his life, but he had never imagined that trying to undo a man's shirt buttons while kissing him would be the thing that had him stomped. Slade's hands moved to his ass and suddenly he was standing up. Robin half laughed half yelled out as his legs locked around the man and his arms scrabbled for a hold. He then when back to kissing the ma's neck as Slade carried him wherever. Robin didn't care, he just knew it would be a better place than the couch.
Robin's world tilted as the man carefully laid him down on his bed. the teen still had his legs wrapped around the man, enjoying the friction immensely.
"Is this okay?" Slade asked after giving him another kiss.
"Oh, trust me, anything is ok," Robin gasped.
"Anything?" the man leered.
"Yeah… I'll let you know if something changes," the teen grinned back, blushing, but his hands were already busy relieving the man of his shirt. He was in awe of the man's skin for some reason. Not it's condition but just seeing it, touching it. It was surreal and very exciting. He almost got annoyed when the man pulled Robin's shirt over his head, because Slade was interrupting the teen's exploration. Getting naked was, generally, a very good idea, though, Robin had to admit. He pointed to a mark half way up his torso.
"Kiss it," he purred.
The man smiled and did so, only afterwards asking "Why?"
"Because you gave me this scar, and you owe me a 'kiss and make it better'," Robin grinned.
"Of course I did. Now, remember when you kicked me in the groin?" Slade said innocently, a leer hiding in his tone of voice.
"No fair, you were wearing a cup," Robin objected but laughed as his neck and chest were attacked by the man's lips.
Things got more serious from then on. Slade was a gentle guide, too gentle sometimes which Robin had no problem pointing out to him, and he made the teen feel safe. Robin had no idea he would need to feel safe. Horny and not too embarrassed were pretty much what he had hoped for, but that was only the surface of emotions that surged through him during the next hour.
He was catching his breath now, his head almost dizzy with pleasure hormones. His skin was sticky against Slade's. Several things were sticky, actually, but somehow it all just made him smile.
"I think I'm guilty of a few more marks," Slade hummed and the teen felt fingers ghosting over his neck where he faintly remembered the man's lips and teeth. His smile widened.
"Those are owner's marks, I don't mind them," he purred. "I left my own on you too," he added. "Though they have probably already faded," he added in a mutter.
"Then I guess I'll just have to remember," the man chuckled.
"You fucking better," Robin growled jokingly.
Slade only chuckled, sounding somewhat smug about the teen's possessiveness.
Robin sighed happily. "This is perfect," he said.
"Agreed," the man mumbled against his hair.
Robin chuckled a bit. "All it took was for you to die."
The End