If I say no?"
"Then I get free reign to cum where I want."
He can see Damian weighing his options, but the weight pressing him into the floor obviously isn't helping him.
"...I accept your deal."
"You accept my dealwhat?"Slade says, pressing down with his knee. Damian's going to have a hell of a bruise.
"I accept your dealsir,"Damian spits, which has to be the least respectful use of the word Slade's ever heard.
He gets up anyway. If he leans on the kid any longer he's going to break something, and Slade doesn't want to deal with daddy bats kicking his door in for having broken one of Damian's ribs.
Slade watches Damian get up, looking him over expectantly, and isn't at all surprised when, despite the deal he literally just made, Damian takes his time getting out of his gear. He makes a show of removing each piece individually, neatly setting them aside, and then glaring at Slade.
He does it foreverysingle piece, and Slade simply stands there and watches, his arms folded across his chest.
The kid's still not his type, but he supposes he isn't bad looking. Fit for sure. Athletic. He's a nice blend of his parents, Bruce's chin with Talia's eyes, and Slade steps forward, closing the distance when Damian's barely even half dressed and reaches down, catching Damian's chin and his hand and pulling him in for a kiss.
He gets an elbow to his ribs for his trouble.
"No kissing," Damian snaps.
"Another term you didn't put in our agreement," Slade says. "Make your choice. No kissing or no cumming inside?"
Theobviouschoice is no cumming inside. It's a deeply intimate thing that a lot of people aren't uncomfortable with.
So Slade's good and surprised when Damian chooses otherwise.
"No kissing."
Well, that definitely meanssomething,and Slade doesn't want to dedicate any brain power to figuring out what.
"Get the rest off," he says. "Stop dragging your feet."
"I'll take however much time I please," Damian says, using Slades own words against him.
"You've got one minute, and then I'll just have to help you."
Despite his protests, Damian does speed up, stripping off the rest of his gear in record time. He's left only in his underwear, and it's impossible for Slade to miss that he'salreadygot an erection. They haven't even started yet, but something about the situation—either the fact that Slade is nearly naked or maybe the fact that he was just pinned to the floor—is apparently making Damian averyhappy camper.
Slade doesn't bother to hide that Damian has his attention, letting his eye sweep across the boys skin. He has plenty of little scars despite his age, and Slade reaches up, dragging his finger across a scar that runs over his pectoral.
Damian shivers, but doesn't make any move to stop him.
"I'll let you pick," Slade says. "Do you want to ride me, or do you want me to fuck you?"
He watches the way Damian's adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.
"Which... would be more standard?" Damian asks.
Slade presses in closer, letting his voice go nice and husky, and it's obvious the effect it has on Damian, his eyes going half-lidded.
"Me fucking you into the bed," Slade says.
Damian wants it. It's plain as day, written all over his features. Hewants.He wants Slade to shove him down and have his way with him, and everything else is really just a pretense.
He wraps an arm around Damian's waist, guiding him over towards the bed. There'salmosta bit of protest there, Damian's legs not actually walking to start, but it's not as if he can actually fight back, so he simply ends up being shoved along until Damian decides walking is more comfortable.
"Down on the bed," Slade says. "You're going to work yourself open for me."
"This sounds as if I'm doing all the work. Aren't I the one payingyou?"
"If I had my way you wouldn't even be working yourself open," Slade says. "Your face would be pressed into the pillow and I'd already be balls deep in your ass. But since you'repayingme, I'm walking through what you should be doing to make a partner happy, and that means working yourself open."
Slade settles on the side of the bed as Damian crawls up. He's smart, because he grabs all the pillows from the top of the bed, arranging them so he's propped up and can keep an eye on Slade, sprawling out on the bed.
"What am I supposed to do, exactly? Youaresupposed to be instructing me."
"There's a bottle in the night stand," Slade says, settling back to watch. "Get it out."
Damian seems to enjoy being watched, because he seems more compliant than he usually is in the field right then. He retrieves the bottle, uncapping the lid and pouring some into his palm.
"You want your fingers nice and slick," Slade says. "Then you go slow. Relax, push one finger in as you do."
He doesn't think Damian understands how much the fact that it's a job matters to Slade. Slade wouldn't have waited. He wouldn't be sitting patiently, watching Damian start to work his ass open, his own cock jerking to life at the sight. He'd be fucking him until he screamed Slade's name. He'd fuck him until he sobbed.
Maybe, if Slade plays things right, he'll still get a chance to do all that.
"Two fingers," he instructs. "Get used to them, then start spreading them out. Scissoring motion." Damian's free hand is already drifting towards his cock, and Slade gives him an unimpressed look. "Don't touch yourself."
"That wasn't in the rules," Damain says with a smirk.
"There are a lot of things in the rules you don't want to do," Slade says, "but trust me when I say that you don't want to do them. Especially not for your first time. So play nice and follow the rules look a good little boy."
Damian scowls at him, but his hand shifts to his thigh instead.
"Fine."
"Finewhat?"
"Finesir."
At least he's learning.
Damian's up to three fingers when Slade moves, reaching over to retrieve the bottle of lube. Damian freezes, his fingers still in his ass, but he seems to relax when he realizes what Slade's doing.
"Keep going," he says. "The looser you are, the easier it'll go in. I'm not exactly a small guy, and you're not exactlylarge."
Damian bares his teeth as if he genuinely thinks that might intimidate Slade.
"Go on," Slade says. "Keep going."
He drizzles lube directly onto his cock, stroking himself a few times to spread it. There should be plenty—the kid's added so much to his ass it's made a mess of the sheets—but he doesn't want Damian walking out of his safehouse injured.
Even for something like this, Slade isveryserious about his contract.
"Alright," he says. "Fingers out."
Damian withdraws his fingers immediately, shifting his position. Slade lets out a small laugh, grabbing Damian's ankle and pulling it up. He shifts his shifting his position until Damian's upper back is pressed to the bed, his ass in the air, propped up only by Slade's hands.
It's not terribly comfortable, but it doesn't have to be. Slade can manage to hold him there indefinitely, and Damian isn't in a position to protest.
"I should have insisted on a safe word," Damian hisses, trying to adjust the position to give him more control.
"You should have," Slade agrees. "But here we are, and you didn't."
His instinct is to shove right in. He wants to. But Damianispaying him, so he does a bit more to make it worth his while. He reaches down, taking Damian's hand, and pulls it up against Slade's cock. He seems to catch on immediately, wrapping his hand around it.
Damian is still small. He's grown, but not as much as he should have, and Slade decides then and there that Damian's either going to be under 5'6" for the rest of his life, or else he's going to hit a growth spurt within a year and end up taller than Bruce himself. His hand feels almost dainty as he wraps his fingers around Slade's cock, stroking him once on pure instinct.
"You know where that's going?" Slade asks, grinning wide enough to show teeth. Damian doesn't answer, but he does nod, so Slade takes a shot in the dark. "You know who else has had that inside them?"
Damian's mouth opens, but he doesn't speak right away, as if he's afraid that saying it out loud will make it true.
"...Dick," he says quietly.
"That's right," Slade says, watching the way Damian reacts. It's an undeniably positive reaction, the kind of reaction that tells Slade that Damian's probably thinking about it right then. That he's probably thought about it before. Did the fact that Slade had fucked Damian's big brother factor into his choice of partner?
Probably.
"You know who else?" Slade says, and Damian's breath catches in his throat before he finally shakes his head. "Jason," Slade says, watching the way Damian's pupils dilate, his mouth falling ever so slightly open. "Tim."
"You haven't—" Damian protests, but it's clear he's thinking about that, too.
"Your mother," he says, "Talia al Ghul."
"You didn't—" Damian tries again, but it's a weak, half-hearted protest.
"Your father," he says, "Bruce Wayne."
"You didn't!" Damian protests, his efforts feeble. "He wouldn't..."
"He would," Slade says. "So would everyone else. Here I was, worried I wouldn't be able to get you too, and you came to me all on your own. I didn't even have to try."
The shiver that passes through Damian is delectable, but the fact that he responds by giving Slade's cock a small tug makes his interests that much more obvious.
"Hands off," he says, pulling Damian's hand away. "I've waited long enough."
He doesn't drag it out. Damian's worked himself open enough that Slade just has to line things up and start to press in, watching the way the head of his cock starts to push him open. Damian is dead silent, biting his lip, and Slade reaches up, grabbing his jaw roughly.
"Don't bite," he says. "If you bite through your lip, we're going to stop."
Unable to keep his mouth shut, Damian has no choice but to let Slade hear the noises he's making as Slade slowly fucks him open. It's not one smooth, easy thrust. The size difference is too great for that. Instead, Slade pushes in part way, pulls out, and then pushes in a little bit farther. He repeats the process over and over, working himself in as Damian chokes and whines, fingers tangling into the sheets as he does.
"Almost there," Slade says quietly, making a few short thrusts to finally bury himself all the way in. "There."
His hips are pressed to Damian's ass, and he starts to shift back and get going when Damian reaches up, catching his wrist. He lets out a small wheeze, and Slade feels him tense around him.
"Wait," he says desperately. "Just—I just need a second."
"Wasn't this supposed to be training?" Slade asks, raising an eyebrow. "You think an enemy would let you wait?"
"An enemy—an enemy won't ever have a chance at my first time," Damian wheezes.
It's a damn good answer, so Slade relents.
"Tell me what you want," he says.
"Just... just wait a few minutes."
"I shouldn't have to remind you, Damian."
"Just a few minutes,sir."
Slade strokes his fingers down Damian's thigh, watching the way the muscles twitch. Damian lets out something that's almost a sob, his entire body tensing from the stimulation.
He's tight. He'sreallytight. The way he squeezes around Slade is almost painful, so Slade allows him the moments reprieve. He doesn't completely let him off the hook though, letting his fingers wander across Damian's body, watching which places he can ignore and which ones make him twitch.
"Sir," Damian wheezes, his eyes kept tightly shut. The position gives him almost no control, leaving him dangling in the air, unable to do much aside from twitch around Slade's cock.
"This everything you thought it would be?" Slade says. He doesn't bother hiding his grin as he bends over Damian, adjusting the position of his cock as he does.
Damian practically howls from the stimulation, letting out a soft sob as he tries to recover. Slade's probably too big for him, and Slade doubts Damian's the type to play with his ass. It's a lot of firsts, in other words.
"Time's up," Slade says and gets to work.
The position gives him a good view of Damian's face and torso, and it's satisfying to watch the way his stomach rises and falls as he wheezes. The pace Slade sets is absolutely punishing, but he does make a point of carefully shifting the angle of his hips bit by bit until Damian clenches around him, letting out ascreamlike he's just been stabbed.
Too much for him. Slades hands rest on Damian's hips, holding him upright and refusing to let him get away as Slade goes straight for his prostate, pounding into him over and over again.
"Please," Damian wheezes, and Slade's sure it's the first time he's ever heard the kid sayplease.
"Use your words," Slade says, refusing to even slow down.
"Please!"Damian whines, and Slade doubts that even he knows what he's asking for. For time? For Slade to stop? For Slade to go faster?
It doesn't matter. Slade's getting what he wants.
But when he sees Damian start to twitch, Slade knows exactly what's coming and reaches down, wrapping his hand around Damian's cock and balls, squeezing in just the right place to keep him from finishing.
"No!" Damian howls, his hands reaching up to frantically scratch at Slade's hand. It must hurt being so damn close to cumming and not being able to, and Damian's rapidly devolving into sobs and Slade fucks into him.
"You cum when I do," Slade says. "Not a minute before."
"No," Damian says, but it's more of a wheeze."No."
"Make it good," Slade says, "or I won't let you at all."
Damian's nearly incoherent, his back lifting from the bed with every thrust of Slade's hips. He's given up on trying to jar Slade's hand loose, instead frantically holding onto Slade's wrist, seemingly for support as Slade fucks him open.
"Go on," Slade says. He can feel his own orgasm building, a tightness and anticipation that feels like seeing a wave approaching on the horizon. "You don't have much time."
Slade doesn't think he'll ever understand what's going on in Damian's head when he opens his mouth and wheezes one single word.
"F-father."
Slade has no idea what he's thinking, but he knows that he likes it anyway. There's a lot of implications in that one single word, and he lets out a laugh. He rises, dragging Damian's hips even higher until only his upper back is against the bed, and then thrusts into him faster and harder then ever before.
"There we go," Slade says. "You can cum,