Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 -Ain’t never coming outta the closet-

“I understand,” Robin said softly, eyes lowered. There was a small hitch in his breath, then, with a quavering voice, he said dramatically, “For the sake of my friends, if this is what you want, then I have no choice.” 

His hand reached up with one hand, undoing the clasp of his cape, letting it pool to the floor, while at the same moment his other reached down and undid his belt. He looked up at Slade through his eyelashes– forgetting that he was wearing a mask so Slade wouldn’t even be able to see it– then with a small sigh, started to lift up his shirt as he twisted his body sideways in a swaying manner, letting Slade get an eyeful of the taut lines of his muscles.

“Robin,” Slade said flatly. “What was that.” The statement was chilly, lacking the upturn that typically accompanied such a query.

It sent a shiver through Robin’s body, freezing him half-way through lifting off his shirt. “...my cape and belt?” It was supposed to be a confident statement, but it came out half-muffled through the front of his shirt and hesitant because it hadn’t even been a minute and Slade was already upset with him. At this rate, how was he supposed to sedu–

“I didn’t mean that,” Slade frowned, “You don’t have a history of seizures or noteworthy medical conditions.”

Robin’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “No,” he agreed slowly. “I don’t.” 

“Then what was with that spasming?” Slade asked, suddenly concerned.

Robin stared at Slade. 

Slade stared at Robin.

It occurred to Robin, then, that Slade had been referring to his swaying hips. The tips of his ears burned, and he suddenly realising how stupid he probably looked with the shirt still around his arms. He quickly pulled it off, mumbling some sort of vague excuse. 

Alright, no more trying to imitate Indian belly dancers. Instead, he tried another thing, trying to pull off his gloves with his teeth, but then had to abruptly cut off that attempt as he realised his glove was too tight for that. Discreetly, he tried to disguise that motion as an attempt to scratch his cheek before manually removing his gloves with his hands. Those, too, dropped to the floor. He gave Slade a small glance, hoping to see a sign of something , but the man didn’t seem the slightest bit impressed. 

Okay, fine, time to bring out the big guns. His fingers dug into the waistband of his pants–

“Stop.” 

Robin froze again, staring uncertainly at Slade. “Yeah?” He asked hesitantly.

Slade stares at him, a single eye staring hard, and Robin resisted the urge to squirm. Fuck, did Beast Boy end up writing weird stuff with a marker again? A glance told him that nope, there were no marker marks. But wait, did he eat too much at breakfast? Did his stomach look bloated? Did Slade think he wasn’t muscley enough to be his apprentice? Was he going to get FIRED before even his first minute at the job?! Did–

“Robin,” Slade said slowly. “Why are you getting naked?” 

Robin’s mouth opened and closed, unable to believe the gall of this man. Hadn’t he been paying attention to Robin the slightest bit?! “You told me to change my uniform?” Silently, he cursed himself. Why did every word out of his mouth sound like a question? He wasn’t five, damn it! 

“I didn’t tell you to undress in front of me. There’s an unused closet right there.”

“But I don’t want to be in the closet,” Robin finally managed to say something that wasn’t a question, but instead, it was more like a whine. I wanna be with –

“Get in the closet.”

“But Slade–“

“And since when did you need to take off your underwear to change your uniform, boy?” Slade pointed out accusingly.

Flushing at the words, Robin quickly removed his finger, mouth tightening into what could be called a pout. 

“But if I don’t strip, I mean, change in front of you, how will you know if I’ve hidden anything suspicious on me? You won’t be able to thoroughly inspect me,” Robin asked earnestly.

“You don’t have space to hide it in your new uniform,” Slade deadpanned. He eyed Robin intently, like he was trying to figure out Robin’s ulterior motive.

Robin wasn’t one to give up so easily, though. “But Slade, I might be hiding something in my body cavities, you know? Don’t you want to check just in case?” 

For a moment, Slade was silent, and had there been no mask, Robin would have been proud to know that Slade’s jaw had actually dropped. 

“ Robin,” Slade said, this time with a strained voice, “Get in the closet now , or else.”

“Or else what? You’ll spank me?” Robin challenged with a grin. Internally, he drooled. He hoped Slade would spank him.

“No. I’ll press the trigger.”

Robin gaped. “That’s not fair!”

“Closet. Now.” Slade’s tone was final.

With a pout, Robin resignedly decided he had to get into the closet. He stepped back, forgetting about the discarded clothes still behind him, slipped on said clothes, spent a couple seconds flailing about, before slipping forward and crashing toward Slade.

The world seemed to suddenly become slow motion, Robin falling right towards the man’s torso. With the way things were, Robin would crash into Slade’s big and strong chest, gasp and then flutter his eyelashes at Slade, and then, maybe, perhaps they would even ki–

Slade neatly sidestepped, letting Robin nearly trip into the floor in a tangled pile of limbs– but Robin was an acrobat. He flailed and yelped for a moment, but recovered gracefully and turned it into a somersault. Back towards Slade, because he was determined to fall on that man’s chest, damn it.

Instead, he was caught by Slade’s hand wrapping around his neck– and unbidden, a slight moan escaped Robin.

Slade threw him away like a hot potato– and this time, distracted by the sensation of Slade’s hand, Robin crashed to the floor, ass up. 

“Get in the damned closet, Robin.”

Robin moaned pitifully, then began to inch forward, pouting and crawling to the closet resentfully. “So mean,” he muttered resentfully, and decided to delay his efforts till another day.

Silly little bird. If he had looked behind, he would have seen Slade staring at his ass, unable to look away.

Chapter Text

-Master’s Hair: pretty, pretty, shiny, shiny-

Slade took off his mask, and Robin stared.

And stared.

And stared.

It was a really good thing Slade fought with his mask on, Robin thought dazedly. Because, damn, otherwise Slade would have won every fight because Robin would have been too busy staring at his pretty face and hair.

Slade noticed him staring. He arched an eyebrow, and fuck, it should be criminal for Slade to look that good. Wait, he already was a criminal. Was that why? Did Robin need to start looking at more villains? 

“What?”

“...mask,” Robin managed to say.

The man shrugged. “Not like you’ll be able to leave,” he said off-handedly. “You’re going to be mine forever.”

His cheeks were on fire, Robin was sure. But he couldn’t help it. Slade just said he wanted Robin to stay by his side forever. That was… really sweet, honestly.

“Angry, Robin?” Slade drawled. “Too bad. You’ll have to get used to it.”

Wait, why did Slade think he was angry? Robin wasn’t angry, he was embarrassed! Robin opened his mouth to speak, but got distracted by Slade’s hair swaying prettily.

Robin wanted to touch it so bad.

He inched forward.

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up, but–

A hand, Slade’s, gripped his before it could reach. 

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Slade asked coldly, hand tightening.

Robin just looked at him, unable to articulate just how captivated he was by Slade’s face and hair. Where was the poetry? Robin had memorized some verses, but in the face of Slade’s sheer prettiness, his brain had gleefully thrown them out the window to make space to store memories of this. What was it again? Silken hair as beautiful as the night sky? No, Slade’s hair was white, not black- wait, he knew! Hair as sparklingly beautiful as freshly fallen snow! Or was that Snow White?

Poor Robin. His inability to recall poetry simply made him more embarrassed, which in turn made his cheeks redder.

“What, so furious that you can’t even speak?” Slade mocked.

At last, Robin managed to say something. In a tiny voice, “...pretty.”

“...What.”

“Your hair’s so pretty!” Robin burst out, eyes sparkling. “I’m honored to be in its presence. Can I touch it? It looks sooo soft and silky and shiny. Ooohhh, can I braid it? I promise I can braid hair, it won’t turn into a rat’s nest that you then have to cut off– don’t listen to anything Raven says, it was Beast Boy’s fault not mine– I swear, it’ll be fine this time . Please please please?!!! I wanna touch it sooo bad.”

Slade stared at him, open mouthed.

Robin just kept getting more excited. “It, like, looks so delicious.” His eyes widened. “CAN I EAT IT?!” he screeched. “It’s too pretty not to.”

Slade shuddered. Robin wondered if Slade was as excited as he was.

“No you may not,” Slade said automatically.

With a pout, Robin begged. “Please? Pretty please? I’ll be good, Slade, I swear–!”

Slade covered his mouth, muffling the sound. “You seem sincere,” Slade muttered, puzzled.

Robin nodded his head empathetically. He really, really, reallyreally really wanted, no, needed to touch Slade’s hair.

“Strange,” Slade muttered. “I must have left the hallucinogens in the outfit again. I thought the dry cleaners got it all out.”

Robin wanted to say that he was indeed high, high on how handsome Slade was, that is, but alas, Slade had already decided it was better for his continued sanity that Robin had his speech privileges revoked. 

Robin pouted, then began enthusiastically licking at Slade’s gloves. Slade would probably use them to gag him all the time, so Robin had better get used to the delicious, delicious taste! See? Robin could be proactive.

Slave yanked his hand away, then thankfully for Slade’s sanity and unfortunately for Robin’s libido, accidentally managed to hit Robin so hard he got knocked out.

-Strip for Master-

Slade entered the room.

Robin immediately began taking off his clothes, undressing so fast the Flash would have been proud.

Slade facepalmed, did a one-eighty, and left the room.

Robin only became more determined. He swore Slade would see him naked or he’d die trying.

-Master oh Master I am your Slave-

“Oh, and Robin?” Slade said. “From now on, you’ll call me master.”

Robin’s eyes widened, and he blushed dazedly. Oh my. He had suspected it, but to have it confirmed… Slade truly was a kinky bastard. He lifted his hand nervously, fiddling with a strand of hair. “But it’s so sudden…” he mumbled, shy, too quiet to really hear. “We haven’t even truly begun our relationship.” Could he do it? Would he be able to be brave enough to do such a thing?

“Boy,” Slade snapped sternly. “I expect a proper response when I talk to you.” 

Robin’s eyelashes fluttered, and he blinked up at Slade. He bundled up his courage, all his bravery and daring and love, then answered, “I understand. M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-...”

Slade growled, and with a yelp, Robin quickly finished, “Master!”

His eyes widened. What a beautiful, mind blowing word! It was one that bound him and Slade, master and slave, an eternal chain of their promise, a red thread tying them together forever . Why had Robin been scared to say it? It was obviously the best thing there was. Just saying it and then having Slade look at him with such disgust had him swooning, practically on the edge of orgasm.

Robin dropped to his knees, trembling. “Master…” he whispered dazedly. 

Slade sneered. “Driven to your knees in despair so easily, boy?”

The words barely reached Robin’s ear. “Master,” he repeated reverently. “Master, master, master,” he repeated happily.

He saw Slade’s boot twitch, which only made him more excited. Was Slade going to, gasp, maybe step on him?!

Robin sank down completely, sitting in a seiza-like position, and bowed his head, presenting his neck to Slade.

“Robin,” Slade said coldly. “What are you doing?”

It sent a shiver right down his spine– whenever Slade spoke his name in that chilling tone. He whimpered a little. “Presenting my humble self to you so that you may collar this Slave’s neck and leash me and–“

“Presenting. Slave?” If anything, Slade’s tone simply became cooler.

“W–well, you did order me to call you Master, and that makes me your Slave!” Robin explained enthusiastically, with all the wisdom of a teenager prowling the internet, then bit his lips. Kneeling was a classic, did Slade want something more complicated for him to do? Wait, Slade was kinky, what he probably wanted was–

Robin scrambled around on all fours, poking his ass up–

“Hey!” He yelped as a foot suddenly shoved him flat onto the floor. On one hand, Slade was angrily stepping on him, he drooled. On the other, Slade was angrily stepping at him. Fuck. “I’m sorry, master! It was too presumptive of me to expect you to collar me so soon, I–“

“Are you making fun of me, boy?” Slade asked, voice low and dangerous.

“Of course not! I’m serious, I am sorry–“

“Robin, what the hell do you think I took you on as?” Slade interrupted, his foot digging into the small of Robin’s back.

“A master-slave relationship of course!” Robin answered earnestly. Slade twitched. “You’re clearly into that kind of thing, you evil, evil man, you! I know you’re going to use my body for whatever purposes you like. It’s terrifying and scary but I know that for the sake of my friends I have no choice but to obey your every command, no matter how scandalous it may be, for the greater good, I must–“

“I took you on as an apprentice, boy, not for that,” Slade snapped, deciding to nip this in the bud before it got any worse. “Get your mind out of the fucking gutter.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Robin was silent, crestfallen. Then his face brightened, and Robin replied, “But the Spartans–“

Slade snarled, and Robin squeaked shut his mouth.

-How to greet Master-

“Master,” Robin said out loud, but softly, testing how the word tasted in his mouth. He smiled, and held back a giggle. “Master,” he repeated with a dreamy sigh. Was this what he would moan when Slade finally fucked him? “Master,” he breathed out, almost a soft moan. 

Yes, that sounded pretty nice, if he did say so himself. But it was lacking something. Perhaps he should try out a few different ways of saying it? 

“Master? Master! Maaaaster. Masteeeer. ...master? Mah- ah -ass-ter.” Robin happily tried out different tones, trying to figure out what was the best way to say it.

Slade twitched, and Robin got a brilliant idea. Why not get feedback from the man himself on how to say it?!

“Master, master, master, master, master, master master–“

Slade could take it no longer. He turned around with a glare and snapped, “ What, boy?” 

Face to face with Slade’s beautiful wrath, Robin entirely forgot what he was going to ask. A giggle, a brief fluttering of his eyelashes, and a small wave. “Hi.”

With a snarl, Slade lunged towards Robin. 

Oh, how exciting! Slade wanted to chase him, what fun! Robin nimbly scampered away. 

“Get back here, boy.” Slade’s voice was low, deadly, promising nothing but misery.

Robin shivered. On second thought, Slade was, perhaps, taking their game a little too seriously. He needed to hide, and quickly wedged himself in between two gears, wiggling in. It was a tight fit, so Slade wouldn’t be able to follow him. 

He promptly squeaked as Slade’s hand made a grab for him, pressing back to avoid it.

Slade’s one eye, livid, glared at him, a vicious scowl pulling apart lips and showing off rows of perfect, perfect teeth.

Robin wondered if Slade was angry enough to bite him.

“Come out this instance, Robin,” Slade snapped. “Don’t be childish.”

Childish. Slade thought of him as a child. At this rate, Robin would never be able to seduce him.

The insult struck an arrow through his heart, fatally wounding him, but on the precipice of death, he remembered that Slade was indeed a pedophile, and was immediately revived.

He gave a mental cheer, then shivered at Slade’s subsequent growl. 

“But you’re angry at me!” Robin wailed, bursting into crocodile tears and burying his face in his hands. “I just trying to–“ to figure out the most sexy way to call you master “– to reconcile myself with the terrific fying reality of you owning me!”

“Come. Out.”

Robin spread his palms, wide eyes peeking out from between them. “...promise you won’t be mad at me?”

Slade took out the trigger.

“No fair! Cheater,” Robin pouted, and started to wiggle out, legs first as he decided to come out ass first since that was obviously his best asset and perhaps staring at that would allay Slade’s anger a little bit. He wasn’t too upset though, too busy thinking about how Slade would punish him. Had Robin finally pu–

He paused, shifted, then tried again. He wiggled a bit more, squeaking as he felt his pants get caught on something and get dragged down a little, then fell still. He cleared his throat nervously. “Um, Slade,” he started timidly, “I, uh, think I’m, um, stuck.”

And Robin was, stuck between the two gears, ass up and legs hanging down. And while Robin wasn’t complaining at the position, he could have sworn the space was larger when he wiggled in.

He blushed. This position…

Damn, it was at the perfect height for Slade to pull down his pants and spank him, then fuck him after for being such a brat. 

“You’re stuck,” Slade said flatly, voice unimpressed.

“Master, I know you’re angry right now, but please don’t cruelly fulfill your primitive inner desires by deciding to punish me by–“

“You’re in time-out,” Slade cut him off. “Stay here for the next few hours and think about what you’ve done while I get some actual work done.”

Robin’s mind screeched to stop. Slade had Robin caught and helpless, had Robin’s ass– the best ass in the entire fucking universe– staring him in the face, and he was just going to walk away?

Who did Slade think he was, to reject the sheer perfection that was Robin’s ass like that?!

“Master!” Robin called out quickly as he heard Slade’s steps recede, wiggling frantically and exposing his ass more. 

But alas, Slade’s steps continued to fade.

Robin almost cried. “Slade,” he whined pitifully when it became clear that Slade truly had left, sniffling. “You’re so mean… why won’t you just fuck me already?!”

Only one thing to do since all this had left him incredibly horny.

Robin jerked off, moaning Slade’s name all the while.

He might have thought he heard some suspicious sounds a couple of times, but since that was impossible considering Slade had said he left him alone, that was probably just his own moaning echoing. 

Probably.

Chapter Text

-Not a drop of sweat shall escape-

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Slade snapped, irritated, as he easily pushed Robin into the ground and pinned him, again. “Stop getting so distracted, boy.”

His cheeks were dusted pink, and Robin stared up Slade with wide eyes. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly, but he wasn’t sorry at all. 

 How could he be? Slade was on top of him, wearing a loose pair of slacks and T-shirt, and fuck– he’s pinned down by Slade’s thighs, by his forearm against Robin’s neck, his breath annoyed and angry falling on Robin’s face. And damn, those arms. People’s biceps had no right to look that sexy, but of course Slade didn’t care about rights. 

Fuck, Robin wished Slade would take away his rights and use him like a cocksleeve all day long. Was that too much to ask for? What sort of messed up psycho morally ambiguous older man kidnapped a teenage boy without the intention of fucking him? Why couldn’t Slade just get his act together and fuck him senseless already?! Why was he being such a prude when Robin knew for a fact he had a habit of hiring underage prostitutes who looked suspiciously like Robin (None of whom were even as pretty as him, of course)? It was annoying, damn it!

...was it any wonder Robin was so distracted in a situation like this?

He just wanted to get his grabby hands all over Slade’s arms.

Wait, he was already doing that.

“What the hell are you doing, brat?” Slade asked, exasperation straining his voice.

Robin gave him an innocent look, but didn’t stop. If Slade was going to break his wrists for this, he might as well ensure he got to fully enjoy it. “Searching for a weak point?” He said confidently, so proud of the excuse he came up with. Seriously, it was like all his brain cells turned to goo in Slade’s presence, so coming up with excuses was hard, okay? Mmm, hard like Slade’s dick. Robin drooled a little.

Unfortunately, Robin’s fantasizing came to an end as Slade stood and thus his arms moved away, leaving Robin’s hands outstretched towards him. Robin whined, and made grabby hands gestures towards him.

“Get up,” Slade ordered, and then proceeded to beat Robin into the ground, again and again, till Robin couldn’t even get up anymore.

It did not, by any means, stop Robin from drooling over Salde’s biceps.

“Well, that was a fucking failure,” Slade scoffed.

Robin was of the opinion that it was all Slade’s fault– like anyone with a set of eyes could ever stop drooling over Slade’s biceps– but of course the man would never admit any fault of his. It’s okay, Robin knew what they were anyway, and would hold Slade accountable to them.

He wanted to reply to Slade, but all that left his mouth was a pitiful whimper. He looked up at Slade, ready to come up with something pithy, then froze. 

Slade was running a hand through his hair in frustration, the other on his hip. Light gleamed of the slight sheen of sweat on Slade’s skin, making his arms shine, and Robin was captivated.

Those muscles, the outline, Robin felt drool collect anew in his mouth because damn, he wanted to climb Slade like a tree and lick off the all the sweat covering his arm and chest and ahem, other body parts, and–

Robin’s mind went blank as he watched a drop of sweat pool at the tip of Slade’s elbow, quivering.

Oh. Oh no.

It was going to fall and go to waste and that would be a fucking shame and Robin really wanted to taste Slade but hadn’t quite worked up the courage to lick Slade himself yet, so–

Somehow Robin found the strength to throw himself forward, mouth stretching open and catching the drop before it could hit the ground, gasping as the wondrous taste exploded in his tongue like it was an episode of some cooking anime and let out an orgasmic moan.

He blissfully held the salty taste in his mouth for as long as he could– it was something Slade’s body had produced, produced because he was with Robin, and now it was in Robin’s mouth, and fuck, he was getting hard.

“Boy,” Slade’s voice asked flatly. “What.”

Robin suddenly realised that he probably already looked like a fucking mess due to their earlier activities, and that he probably looked even stupider with how he was collapsed on the floor now. Shiiit. Did Slade see him make a fool out of himself over his sweat. He desperately prayed Slade didn’t. 

...Who was he kidding, this was Slade, of course he saw. He swallowed, mourning the loss of the taste of Slade in his mouth.

He needed to tell Slade something.

Though it would probably be okay. If he fucked up, Slade would probably kick him. Mm.

“I was trying to keep the floor from becoming dirty,” Robin said confidently. 

There. Nothing suspicious about it at all. 

“Don’t bother,” Slade said flatly. “You’re on it. It’s already dirty.”

Robin felt his jaw drop, utterly insulted, then realized he had a prime opportunity in front of him.

He threw his arms around Slade’s feet. “Oh glorious master!” he cried out, widening his eyes and looking dolefully up. “Have pity upon this pathetic pet– I mean, apprentice, and let me have a bath with you please?”

Slade looked down at him flatly. Staring.

“Look, I know you’re a paranoid bastard who won’t let me clean up alone, and you’re also sweating, so we might as well take care of this problem together?!” Robin thought he made excellent points, but Slade’s look was scary. He quickly let go and shuffled back, but couldn’t resist quipping suggestively, wagging his eyebrows, “Unless you want to get me more dirty, in which case, I have no objections.”

If anything, his words made Slade’s expression flatter. “Get up.”

His body was loudly protesting at him, but he still forced himself up, wincing with every ache. Slade was so mean. Still, he managed to get up, swaying slightly. He smiled brightly at Slade. “So, shower or–”

Slade poked him, and this time, tired off his ass, Robin comically toppled like a stack of cards blown over, giving an undignified yelp. “Slade! You asshole!” he glowered. 

A strange, almost unidentifiable sound came out of Slade’s mouth before he schooled his expression.

But Robin heard it. 

He heard it. 

“You laughed!” Robin said accusingly, gleefully, triumphantly. “Not that ‘I’m an evil villain with a fluffy white cat ominous chuckle thing’ but an actual laugh! Hah!”

All Robin got in return was that same flat stare. “You want to get cleaned up or not?”

Robin mimed pulling a zipper over his lips, but kept grinning. “Okay. but since I can’t walk, I guess you’ll have to carry me,” he said cheerfully, then froze. 

A blush blossomed on his cheeks.

Slade would have to carry him. 

How would he do it? Bridal style, so that Robin could wrap his arms around Slade’s neck and get lost staring at Slade’s pretty face and hair? And Slade would look down at him while walking, their gazes locked and spellbound to each other? 

Or maybe he’d be carried more like a child, with his limbs wound around Slade’s front and Slade’s arms winding around him too, so close he could feel Slade’s heartbeat thrum against his own? How intimate! 

Perhaps Slade would carry him on his back, since he seemed a little shy, so that Robin could rest his head on Slade’s shoulder and talk softly in Slade’s ear.

On the other hand, with all the metal and leather, he had to be kinky. Maybe he’d toss Robin over his shoulder, keeping Robin in place with one arm and spanking him with the other for being such a brat. 

He might just carry Robin under one arm like a sack of potatoes–  with those muscles on his arms he had to be strong as fuck– and with every step they took Robin would feel them flex under his stomach.

Ohhh, he knew! Slade was an asshole, he would absolutely demand compensation for having to carry Robin even though it was his fault Robin was out of commission in the first place, and would demand that on the way, Robin would have to warm his– 

Slade wrinkled his nose, and the next thing Robin knew, he was being dragged forward by his foot. “Should’ve built up your endurance more,” he said snidely. 

Slade was an asshole.

 Robin felt his erection rapidly shrink down. There was nothing sexy about this! For crying out loud, he was on his stomach, he couldn’t even see Slade. How was he supposed to cope with that?!

But the clear disregard Slade had for his comfort, the carelessness, only thinking of his own comfort… mm, that was sexy. And the floor created a nice friction against his cock if he shifted down just right. Yes, this was good.

Unable to help himself, he let out a small moan.

Slade walked faster.

-I can has bubbles?!-

Robin immediately got excited seeing the bathtub. Slade and him were really going to bathe together?! Wow, Slade was spoiling him. Sure, it was one of those combined types that had a shower attached, but still. Robin could dream. 

A bath with Slade…

Robin giggled nervously, suddenly shy as he realized what would happen. They would both have to be naked, completely naked, and the tub was small enough that, oh damn, he’d simply have to be on the man’s lap. And with them naked, he would be so close to Slade’s cock. And– oh, was that a bath bomb he saw?! He swooned. Slade really was spoiling him! 

Slade dumped him him in the tub, and Robin eagerly scrambled around, ready to declare his undying lo–

SPLASH.

Robin screamed as he got hit with a spray of freezing cold water right in his face, sending him scrambling back. “SLADE YOU ASSHOLE!” Robin screeched as he tried to run. But alas, there was nowhere to escape, the spray insistently following him. 

He swore he heard Slade laugh again, and this time, it was definitely the ‘evil villain chuckle’. 

By the end of it, Robin erection had dwindled completely, and he was huddled into a little ball in the tub shivering and sulking, wet clothes hanging off him, looking to all the world as if he were a miserable drowned kitten.

Slade finally turned off the spray, smirking. “The only thing you needed, boy, was a cold shower.”

Not even Slade’s velvety voice calling him ‘boy’ could drag him out of his sorrow.

He sniffled, a little teary eyed. Was this what rejection felt like? He sneezed. “I’m cold,” he mumbled. 

As Slade turned to put the hand shower back on the wall, Robin saw his opportunity, and pounced.

He was sure Slade would never admit it later, but he yelped. “What the– get off me, boy!” Slade snarled.

Robin stubbornly clung to Slade’s legs, hands wrapped tight around his hips and soaking Slade’s pants. “Noooo,” he whined pitifully. He buried his face into Slade’s thigh. “Dun wanna be cold. Y’ur warm .”

“Let go, you little brat!” Slade twitched, but Robin was clinging harder than a leech. Robin was determined that if Slade wanted him to let go, he’d have to break his limbs.

Fingers pressed on the side of Robin’s neck, and he squeaked. 

Or Slade could just choke him unconscious.

Robin struggled frantically– Slade was choking him, taking his very breath away from him and that shouldn’t be so sexy but, oh, it was – but alas, ‘twas too late. 

He slumped, tipping over, only vaguely conscious of Slade catching him before he fell.

-in this household, we stab not kiss sick babies-

His head was simultaneously full of cotton and raging elephants stomping around in fear of mice, and they were all, for some reason, on fucking fire.

He whined pitifully, and as Slade laid a hand on his forehead, he desperately leaned into it. “‘lade. ‘m dyin’.”

Slade smacked him, eliciting a pained groan as it only made the elephants in his head stomp around harder. “Don’t be dramatic, you’re only a bit feverish from getting a cold.”

Cue loud sniffles. “If I go into a coma like… whachamacallit again... Sleeing Beauty! Would you kiss me to wake me up?” Robin looked up with teary eyes, trying to be dramatically romantic, but alas, his face was a blotchy mess. 

“You’re dripping snot. No.”

Robin was crushed. Tears spilled out of his eyes, and the disgusting sniffles loudened. “I–it’s okay if I don’t wake up…” Robin mumble, trying to comfort himself. “Y–you can still use my body however you want when I’m in a coma, Slade. I w–won’t m–mind.”

His face became even more blotchy. 

Slade twitched, removing his hand. “Stay in bed for today,” he ordered, ignoring Robin’s ramblings. “I expect you to be able to get up and ready to train tomorrow.”

He turned, about to leave, but a hand snagged the corner of his shirt, stopping him. With a sigh, Slade turned. “What?”

“Don’ go,” Robin whined, looking pitifully at him. “ Stay. I need you. Please?”

“I am literally only going to get you some paracetamol, boy,” Slade said sternly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Robin’s lower lip wobbled. “You really wouldn’t try to wake me up at all?”

Slade scoffed. “Please, if I wanted to you up, I’d do something more practical like stabbing you, not do this stupid ridiculous kissing business.”

“You do care!” Robin beamed, mood switching immediately.

Slade jerked back like he’d been burned, opened his mouth to say something, shut it like he’d thought better of it, then hurried off to get the medicine.

Robin continued to beam happily. 

After Slade came back, which was a suspiciously long time to take to only get some meds, Robin obediently swallowed them down.

Laying a hand over Robin’s head, Slade said gruffly, “Go to sleep, Robin.”

Robin yawned, sleepy, as he loosely curled a hand around Slade’s wrist. “Stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Slade hesitated, but Robin’s eyes were already fluttering shut. “Sure, kid,” he said softly, settling down at the edge of the bed.

Robin was asleep in a minute, but strangely, Slade found himself staying for much, much longer.

“It’s only because you’re gripping me so tightly I’d have to break your fingers to get you to let go and an injured apprentice really isn’t good for business so I suppose I can’t let you go,” Slade muttered out loud.

The things he did to get a half-way decent apprentice, honestly.

Chapter Text

-The power of all-purpose flour-

“So, how’s the apprenticeship been going?” Wintergreen asked from the screen.

Slade twitched. “It’s… been…certainly something , I suppose.”

Eyebrows knit together. “How so?” Wintergreen asked, concerned.

“Well–”

CRASH!

Slade sighed. “Excuse me, Will.” Slade got up and left, getting up to see how Robin had fucked up this time.

He left the room.

Two seconds later, Robin entered the room, most definitely not avoiding the horde of Sladebots that had started getting wonky when he may or may not have decided to check exactly how anatomically correct they were. He wasn’t going to do anything with them, honest! But he just had to know. For research!

He looked at the old man on Slade’s computer and froze. “Um, hi.”

“Hello,” Wintergreen said kindly. “You’re his apprentice, I presume?”

Robin cleared his throat. “I’m not just his apprentice,” he corrected, somewhat offended. Sure, Slade hadn’t exactly acknowledged him as anything else, but they were obviously meant to be. Slade just didn’t know it yet. 

Wintergreen paused, then with a grimace suddenly remembered his friend’s proclivities. Sweet dear lord of tea on cracky crackers he hoped Slade wasn’t trying to mix pleasure and business again. “Oh?” he said cautiously.

“That’s right,” Robin said confidently with a beam. “I’m an all-purpose apprentice.”

“What,” the older man said eloquently.

“It’s like all purpose flour, but you know, as an apprentice. Just like you can use all purpose flour for anything, Master can use me for anything! Whether it be as his footstool, a table or desk or coat rack or pincushion or pillow, I’m ready to serve his every desire ! Doesn’t matter if he needs an apprentice or toy or whipping boy or slave or pet– I can do a very convincing meow, NYAA, see? If he wants an innocent schoolboy? I’m it! Try out a French maid outfit? Ha ! You won’t believe the experience I have with wearing ridiculous uniforms. Needs someone to keep him, ahem, entertained on long stakeouts? I have the endurance! Needs a place to store his gun? My ass is free real estate! Needs a pet to stroke menacingly while sitting on his throne and monologuing about his evil plans? Like I said, NYAA! I can kick ass as his apprentice by day, and take it up the ass as his pet/slave/whatever by night, thereby fulfilling his inner murdery needs and his innermost pedo needs! The point is, I’m a multipurpose, all-purpose AP-PRE-EN-TICE ! The best you could ask for, ready to serve every single one of Slade’s needs. I’m perfect for him,” Robin finished proudly.

“I see,” Wintergreen said calmly, but inwardly, he seethed. Damn it, he thought Slade was supposed to be over this. The poor, confused, child.

Robin suddenly slumped, eyes watering. “It’s just…” his lower lip wobbled.

“Yes?” Wintergreen encouraged.

Robin burst into tears. Wintergreen felt his heart clench in pity. “I’m perfect for him… so why won’t he just USE me already?!”

Wintergreen’s brain, which had so far been busy with preparing yet another ‘Please for Fuck’s Sake Stop Being a Pedo’ lecture for Slade, screeched to a halt. “What,” he repeated.

Robin’s eyes shimmered. “I keep trying, but he just won’t.” Robin sniffled.

“So… you’re trying to seduce him… but failing? He hasn’t… slept with you or anything?” Wintergreen asked slowly, trying to make sense of this new development.

“Uh huh,” Robin nodded, and looked earnestly at him. “Please tell me, Mr. Wintergreen, I’m supposed to be perfect for him, but it’s not working, so please please please tell me, how can I succeed?”

Wintergreen burst into laughter. Robin was right - this was perfect. This was all of Slade’s karma coming back to haunt him, and it was glorious. “Well you see, dear child, Slade is a bit, shall we say, stubborn. I think you simply need to keep on trying as hard as you can. I’m sure you’ll succeed eventually.”

Robin’s eyes sparkled. “Understood! I’ll keep trying as hard as I can to get him hard. You give great advice, Mr. Wintergreen!”

Right at that moment, Slade walked back in, saw Wintergreen’s smirk and Robin’s twinkling eyes and immediately blanched. “Oh, god,” he muttered, “They’re conspiring.”

Robin didn’t hear, too enthused by Wintergreen’s encouragement. He launched himself at Slade, and emboldened by Wintergreen’s words, decided to kiss Slade, smashing their mouths together.

...unfortunately, he forgot that Slade was still wearing a mask, ended up simply crashing their faces together, then slid to the floor with a pained moan, clutching his nose.

Slade scowled. “Did you just try to headbutt me?” he demanded, irritated. “Damn it, boy, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t try such an obvious method of attack. And for fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to use your forehead in a headbutt not your nose.”

Wintergreen couldn’t stop laughing.

Robin swore that he would overcome every barrier between their love eventually, including both literal barriers such as Slade’s stupid mask and metaphorical ones like Slade’s obliviousness. Honestly. Thinking Robin was trying to attack him when he only wanted to kiss Slade’s stupid, perfect lips. 

He shook his head sadly. And they said teenagers were supposed to be the oblivious ones.

-Leashed animals are still animals-

“Robin, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself I will tie you up and leash you to the pipes,” Slade snapped, irritated with how Robin’s hands kept wandering towards him.

Robin’s eyes brightened maniacally, and Slade began to have the feeling that perhaps that wasn’t quite the best idea.

“Don’t you dare–“

Robin poked him in the biceps.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke poke poke poke poke. 

Slade twitched, bit back a scream and then gave Robin exactly what he asked for. And then Slade finally managed to relax, leaning back and letting his fingers click away at the keyboard. 

But alas, Slade didn’t realize that while tying Robin up he had left just enough slack that Robin would be able to end up straddling a pipe while attempting to crawl towards Slade. And that due to Robin’s incessant wriggling, he ended up brushing up a rather… sensitive part of his anatomy against the pipe several times. 

Robin whimpered, holding back a hiss as he felt the leash tug. He hoped Slade didn’t hear.

Slade didn’t turn.

He pouted.

Why wouldn’t Slade look at him?! Without Slade, he was almost bored already! Sure being tied up and leashed and collared was drool worthy sexy, but Slade hadn’t even left any sex toys in him to keep him entertained. 

And not to mention, Slade wasn’t even looking at him, the bastard. 

Scowling, he wiggled forward again, enjoying how the collar choked him and the friction on his cock. If Slade didn’t entertain him, he’d just have to entertain himself!

He couldn’t help but let out a slightly louder whimper this time, hoping Slade would hear and then turn around to look at Robin.

Slade put on headphones. The obviously noise cancelling kind. He was utterly absorbed in his work. 

Robin resisted the urge to bash his head into the pipe, and settled for rutting into the pipe instead. Well, if Slade couldn’t hear, there was no need for Robin to not be vocal was there?

Robin settled in to have some fun.

-Sex Ed with your favorite Master ;)-

Slade patted his head. “You did alright, I suppose.”

Robin’s eyes shined, and he shyly put his hands over Slade. “Thank you, Master!”

Slade tried to tug away his hand, and Robin’s hands came with it. He twitched. “Robin, let go.”

Robin was too busy nuzzling his face into the back of Slade’s hand like it was a cute cuddly fluffy puppy to listen to Slade. “Stop it, Robin. Your pathetic attempts to irritate me will not–“

Slade shook his arm furiously, but even when he lifted it up Robin still stubbornly clung to it like a limpet, hanging off his arm and swinging through the air like Slade’s arm was a swing, then wrapping his arms and legs around it entirely, and–

Robin gasped, then furiously held on tighter with a whimper.

Like this, his dick was rubbing against Slade’s biceps.

Robin could die happy now, arms almost loosening their hold.

...but wait. 

Slade would see his erection.

Fuck.

But the suit was waterproof, and it was Robin’s job to clean it up at the end of the day. And Slade was wearing armour, so it wasn’t like he could feel anything through it.. Only one thing to do then. 

Robin would have to get himself off on Slade’s arm.

Gleefully, he tightened his grip, then–

“OW!” He yelped as Slade’s other hand yanked and sent him crashing to the floor.

He whimpered.

“I have told you numerous times that– ah,” Slade suddenly cut himself off, looking down.

Robin followed his gaze, and promptly squeaked as he realised where Slade was looking. “I–I–I c–can–“

“Go to your room and get changed immediately,” Slade said severely, leaving no room for argument, and miserably, Robin acquiesced. 

He sat on his bed gloomily, twiddling his thumbs and fretting over what to do. Alright, he decided, no more of this pussy footing around. He would tell Slade exactly how he felt and–

The door opened, and Robin immediately perked up and opened his mouth. He would confess and then Slade would have no option but to acknowledge his feelings. “Slade, I can explain. You see, I’m–“

“–a teenager,” Slade finished, nodding sagely.

Robin blinked. “Well, yes, but, what I meant was–“

“It’s alright, Robin. I know. I understand ,” Slade said, almost gently.

Robin’s eyes widened. Slade… Slade knew? And… he didn’t seem mad? “You… you do?” His pounded as Slade nodded. Did Slade… perhaps even reciprocate?! “You accept me? This?”

“Of course,” Slade replied agreeably.

“Really?!”

“Mm-hmm.”

A floaty, giddy feeling overtook Robin. Slade– Slade liked him back! He felt so light he was surprised he hadn’t floated up and hit the ceiling. He smiled, a blush on his face as he imagined all the things they would do now that they knew how each other felt. They’d go on dates, fuck, and, gasp, even hold hands, squeeee! True happiness was in his grasp, he had achieved nirvana–

Slade was leaning forward.

Omg, was he going to kiss him?!

Robin’s eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, blush darkening.

A hand landed on his knee, warm. Another curled in his hair, in a way that Robin thought would make kissing awkward, but Slade obviously had more experience in this, so Robin let him guide him. 

“I know this must be embarrassing for you,” Slade murmured, voice low but steady. Mmm, sexy.

Robin couldn’t speak, blush increasing. It was a little, but mostly, Robin was simply too excited to do anything. 

“But you don’t need to worry,” Slade assured, and wow, Robin could feel his breath on his face. Slade must be really, really close!

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Robin.”

They were gonna kiss. They were gonna kiss, they were gonna kiss, they were GONNA KI–

Robin leaned forward, heart pounding, and–

“Your reaction was a perfectly normal biological response to elevated levels of serum cortisol and adrenaline, which naturally rises during a fight or as a fear response, and such, you needn’t worry about me misinterpreting it or anything.”

Slade’s hands abruptly left, leaving him unbalanced.

Robin’s eyes opened. He stared at Slade, who was now standing a few feet away from him. Out of his personal space. “...what,” he said flatly.

Slade blithely continued on. “I realize most of our fights have been rather… intense, and being a young boy in the throes of puberty, it has created some awkward situations for you. However, as I’ve said before, this is perfectly natural and can happen to anybody. I’m not going to judge you for it– it’s just something that happens a result of biology and we have to accept that–“

Slade blathered on, and Robin realized with rising dismay that Slade didn’t even think Robin was attracted to him. He thought Robin got a erection because of fucking puberty.

Robin twitched. What was he going to have to do to convince Slade he liked him, damn it.

“–and to avoid further situations like this I got you–“

A cock cage?! a part of Robin’s mind not yet deterred by Slade’s obliviousness excitedly yelped. 

“– a cup.”

The part wilted. I wanted a cock cage! It wailed. For fuck’s sake, was it too much to ask for Slade to unleash his inner kinky self already?

Robin blankly received it.

“That reminds me, you’re fourteen, aren’t you? And you lived with a bunch of teenagers,” Slade narrowed his eye. “No has talked to you about the birds and the bees yet, have they?”

It took Robin’s mind a second to catch up with what Slade was speaking of, but he immediately blanched as he understood. “Oh hell no,” he said automatically, throwing the cup right in Slade’s face and then bolting.

Slade casually caught the cup with one hand and tripped Robin with a foot. 

And despite Robin’s frantic struggles to run away, Slade lifted him by the foot. 

“This is an important part of your education, Robin,” he said sternly. “Pay attention.”

“You really don’t have to!” Robin squeaked desperately. “Batman told me, I swear!” Now, getting the sex talk from Slade might sound like a sexy thing, but by now, Robin knew him better. 

Slade tutted. “I thought I taught you to lie better,” he said sadly, shaking his head, then turned on the projector, Robin still dangling from his arm.

Robbin didn’t even know he had a projector in this room. 

He curiously turned his eyes to it, and promptly blanched. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”

It– it had cysts. Why was it so oddly shaped. Was that skin peeling off. Why was it tinged green? And– was that a fucking WORM?

Slade smiled. “That, dear Robin,” he purred, “Is what happens when naughty young boys do not listen to the talk. Now, do settle down. We have a lot of information to cover.”

Robin whimpered. It seemed Slade might have been a teensy tiny little bit mad after all.

By the end of it, Robin was utterly traumatised, and almost swore off on sex entirely.

Almost.

Slade was a meta, after all– he didn’t get diseases, so it would be perfectly safe for Robin to have sex with him. In fact, Slade was the only person Robin could feel safe having sex with after that, so it was actually quite great.

Further proof that him and Slade were simply MEANT TO BE!

Chapter Text

-Why Robin is BANNED from the kitchen-

The easiest way to man’s heart was through his stomach, which was actually entirely wrong if taken literally as the easiest way to the heart was through the left fifth intercostal space, easily done with a knife directed upward and slightly leftish as Robin was vividly reminded of whenever Slade took out his penknife and started playing with it, BUT. If taken metaphorically, ‘twas the truest thing ever said. 

Unless someone said that Slade was an unashamed pedo.

Or that he had no right to be that pretty. 

Or that he was a cruel, cruel bastard who probably got his rocks off at keeping his pretty little bird deprived for so so long that fucking asshole. 

Ahem. So it was one of the truest things ever said, whatever.

The point was, Robin had a plan. 

It had taken him forever to figure out how to hack the lock on his cage– well, it was only a small room with an actually somewhat comfy bed, actually, but Robin could fantasize, damn it– but now Robin was out.

And since unfortunately Robin wasn’t quite sure which room Slade’s was, he tracked down the kitchen instead. For the entirety of his apprenticeships, Slade had only been giving him– Robin shuddered in horror– healthy, nutritious meals. He hadn’t had pizza or anything sweet in ages. And Slade ate the same thing, mechanically, like he was a robot or something.

Had he ever even had anything sweet?

The poor thing…

Being so utterly starved of such bliss, such joy, such delight that resulted in joy exploding into a musical dance across every nerve ending. He had never even known it, his taste buds utterly deprived of such a basic human right. 

No wonder Slade was such a bitter old man.

Thus, as a hero, it was Robin’s duty bound responsibility as Slade’s sweet heart to rescue the imprisoned Slade from his tower where he was forced to eat the same stale, boring old healthy foods all day and sweeten up his life. 

And therefore, to the kitchen!

Operation Bake His Way to Slade’s Heart/Rescue Princess!Slade from his Tower of Boring Foods, GGGOOOO!!!!

There was a teensy tiny problem of him never having actually baked anything before or done anything more complicated than fry an egg or make a sandwich or even have access to the internet to look up tutorials but how complicated could it be, right? 

With a hum, Robin chucked off his clothes so that he was entirely naked and put on a frilly apron that was, for some reason, stuffed into a closet nearby. That way, Slade would be able to feast on how delicious he looked, too!

Cheerfully, he brought out the ingredients, put them on the counter, and then stared. And stared. 

...how was this supposed to go again?

An hour later, Robin was very much regretting his belief that it would be easy. Whatever happened to easy as pie? The world was full of liars. If baking sweets was this hard, how difficult would pie be?

But, even so, the brave hero Robin would persevere, for the sake of his beautiful princess Slade still locked up in the hellishly bitter tower–

“What the hell, boy?” came Slade’s pissed off. “If you try to poison someone, you should at least make sure to have basic culinary skills first, you idiot.”

Robin burst into tears as he was forced to admit, now that Slade had pointed it out, that his cooking skills sucked . “T–that’s not true!” He still tried to deny, starting to crawl out from under the table where he had hid when the stove exploded. 

“What, that your cooking skills suck so terribly–urk,” Slade let out an undignified choked off noise as his eyes fell on Robin. And his nearly, except for the singed apron, naked state. And the chocolate sauce and frosting staining various parts of his body. 

Robin sniffled. “I wasn’t t–trying t–to p–poison you,” he stuttered, hugging himself. “I–I just wanted to bake c–cookies f–for you!” With a wail he collapsed back into the ground, desolate, curled up and showing off his frosting covered butt to Slade. 

Slade opened his mouth, then shut it. Swallowed.

Robin was too busy wallowing in grief to notice. He had after all, failed his beloved. 

He couldn’t help him. 

He couldn’t rescue Slade.

He couldn’t do anything. 

If anything, all his efforts had only made things worse.

He had doomed Slade, he had failed, and now Slade would be locked up in his tower of boring foods for all of eternity , suffering in agony for years and years till the end of time. 

Robin made for a terrible hero.

How could he call himself that, think of himself as something for people to look up to, when he couldn’t even help one person, couldn’t even help the person he loved? 

Was there any greater tragedy?

He sniffled. “I’m an utter failure…” he whimpered. “‘M a useless piece of trash… I’m sorry, master… I failed you… please… deal with me however you wish… I couldn’t even make you happy… I couldn’t save you… gonna be stuck in the tower forever… I failed! ” then he went back to crying. 

Slade looked around, at the exploded stove, the suspicious stains that had somehow made their way all the way to the ceiling, the weirdly shaped blobs on the counter, the ashes and burnt pieces on the floor.

He cleared his throat and made his way to Robin, gingerly placing his hand on the boy’s head. “Robin,” he said sternly. “Who’s your master?”

Robin’s wet lashes peeked out from behind his fingers. “...you are?” 

“That’s right. And what are you?” 

“Your apprentice?” Robin hesitantly said. “Unless you’re going to punish me by demoting me to being a pet or a slave or a toy or–“

Slade quickly muffled Robin’s words with his own hand. “What that means,” he said loudly, “Is that it is my duty to teach you things. So if you want to learn how to bake, I’ll teach you. I can’t have my apprentice be an incompetent cook, can I?”

Robin’s eyes widened. “You.. you know how to cook?”

Slade’s eyebrow twitched. “Of course I can. Who the hell do you think has been making your meals?”

Robin gaped. “That was you?!” He yelped. “I’m sorry I called them disgusting slops that were only fit to be eaten by a goat! They’re delicious and I’ll eat them like I would your blood, sweat, and tears! Please feed me, master!” 

Slade smacked him, then gave the frosting now staining his glove a disgusted glare. 

Robin leapt at the opportunity.

“I’ll clean it up!” he said eagerly, and started right on it. With his tongue. Slade snatched his hand away again, and came face to face with Robin's face tearing up again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, annoyed, and held out his hand again.

Robin’s eyes shone like Christmas had come early. 

-How to get a bird to sleep-

Slade stepped out of his shower into his bedroom, towel around his waist. He paused, eyes narrowing. “Robin. Come to try to kill me while I sleep? Idiot child, you didn’t plan on me being awake, did you? Really, boy–”

Robin, meanwhile, was too busy trying to reboot his brain from where it had melted into slush at seeing Slade almost entirely naked to pay attention to Slade's words. Almost naked. Robin felt his mouth water, forcefully dragging his eyes down from Slade’s glorious pecs to his rock solid abs, to the towel that was preventing Robin from laying his eyes upon Slade’s complete naked glory. 

It was at that moment that Robin decided: he had to get rid of the clearly evil towel, at ALL COSTS!

He attacked, desperately reaching for it. Unfortunately, as he got close, he froze once more, the blissful scent of Slade’s body wash wafting up his nose into his head to fry his brain again, and Slade easily caught him.

“Like I’ve been saying,” Slade lectured, irritated. “It’s nice to see you show some initiative, but you’re lacking in execution, child. Freezing in fear in the face of the enemy is what gets you killed. Haven’t you learned anything I’ve taught you? How on earth do you ever even plan to succeed with such a sloppy assassination technique?”

Robin spent a moment floating as he realized that Slade wanted him to live– how sweet – then the rest of the words registered. He gasped. Slade thought that Robin was trying to kill him? Why did Slade always misunderstand him, damn it?!

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Robin protested indignantly.

“Then why did you sneak out of your room and into mine?” Slade asked doubtfully. 

Such mistrust! It would drive a stake into Robin’s heart if he weren’t already aware that Slade didn’t trust anyone. No worries, Robin was a hero! He would melt Slade’s ice cold heart eventually! WIth lots of cuddles and sex, probably. Now, what was the question again? Hmm… Truthfully, he wanted to seduce Slade into bed with him, but it wasn’t like he could just say that. What was the excuse he prepared? It was hard to think with Slade so close, but– oh right. 

Robin looked up earnestly at Slade. “I had a nightmare,” he said with a wobble, voice softer and higher pitched than normal. “I’m scared.” he snuggled closer to Slade. “Can I stay with you tonight, da–dearest master?” Slade liked kids, right? So if Robin acted even more childish, Slade would be more likely to sleep with him, right? His plan was perfect! Though maybe he should have called Slade Daddy after all? Or would it have been too much?

Slade gave him a flat look. “We really need to work on your lying skills,” he muttered. Louder, he continued pointedly, “And you attacked me why?”

Robin’s brain stalled. “Uh… I was still having the nightmare? It was really scary, ya’know.”

Slade’s brow arched. “So what, you sleepwalked here?”

“Um… yes?”

Slade smiled, in the way that promised pain. Robin shivered. 

“My, my, Robin,” Slade purred, voice dropping an octave, and Robin swooned. “I’m so proud that you’ve finally become bloodthirsty enough that it’s even seeping into your sleep.” It was said sarcastically, but all Robin could hear was that Slade was proud of him.

“R–really? You’re p–proud of me?”

“Indeed I am,” Slade crooned, a hand curling into Robin’s hair. “I’m so, so, proud.”

Robin had no idea what magic Slade was using to hold him up, because Robin was sure he had melted into a steaming puddle of bliss already. Slade was pleased with his progress! Slade was hair ruffling him!

Then the hand on his hair tightened, and Slade abruptly let go of him only to start to drag him forward. 

Robin yelped, stumbling as he tried to keep up.”W-where are you taking me?” Had he finally succeeded? Was Slade taking him to his super secret ultra deluxe absolutely amazing sex dungeon?! Robin giggled, floating along. He wouldn’t mind at all if that were the case!

“Unfortunately,” Slade said dryly, “I have no interest in sleeping next to a bloodthirsty sleepwalking menace, so you’ll simply have to get over it. You're going back to your room, obviously.”

Robin crashed, and his dreams and hopes with him.

“Wh–what?” Robin cried out in protest, struggling again. “C’mon, Slade, please!”

“No,” Slade said firmly, and proceeded to throw Robin into his room. 

Unfortunately for Slade, Robin had managed to get a hold of his towel in the struggle, and when Robin crashed into his room, the towel came with him. Robin’s eyes widened, then whipped around to the door.

Where Slade was standing.

Utterly naked.

Slade was – was in front of him. In all his naked glory. Everything, aside from that, blanked out. Robin’s eyes were glued to where the towel had been. For a moment, he was silent, then a slow, high pitched whine began to escape him as his face turned utterly red.

In the next second he tilted over in a dead faint.

Slade tilted his head in confusion. “Huh. He must have been quite tired,” he concluded. He left Robin the towel, not feeling any particular need to take it back.

Robin would proceed to wake up, cuddle with said towel, and of course, Slade never got it back.

Not that he probably want to, with all the things Robin proceeded to do with it. Or maybe he would? Slade was a creep after all.

Chapter Text

-/ True Friends Will.../-

BOOM!

CRASH!

BOOM! 

SWISH!

BOOM!

“Helloooo? Friend Robin? Slade? Will you not welcome us?” Starfire called out, floating in through the hole in the ceiling, followed by Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy. 

Robin would usually be utterly delighted to see his friends, and really, he was happy to see them after all this time… it was just… did they have to crash in like that and ruin Robin’s chances of seducing Slade?! He was sure that he would have succeeded with the next one. And really, if they were going to crash in, couldn’t they do it in such a way that it ended with Slade having to dramatically protect Robin from falling rubble and thus– squee– squishing their bodies together?!

Slade, who had been in a relatively good mood earlier, was glaring darkly at the approaching teenagers.

“Guys…” he said hesitantly, eyes flickering between Slade and his team. “H-hi. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Robin!” Starfire exclaimed, brightening up like her namesake, dropping the stuff she was holding, then proceeding to glomp him fast enough that Slade couldn’t more than tense.

Robin saw Slade’s eye narrow. His heart thumped. Gasp! Was Slade perhaps… jealous?! Enthusiastically, he hugged back. This was great!

“Yo, Robin!” Cyborg greeted cheerfully, dragging some bags.

Raven gave a half hearted wave, boxes floating behind her.

“Bro, I’ve missed you!” Beast Boy joined the glomp, abandoning even more bags.

So of course Cyborg had to join in too. And they obviously weren’t going to leave Raven out, so Starfire quickly snaked out a hand and dragged her in too! Then in unison, they turned to the remaining person in the room, and gave quadruplet mischievous smiles. 

“Join us,” they intoned, inching towards Slade. “Join the hug!”

Slade blanched. “Wha– absolutely not!”

As a team they chanted, “Join us, join us, join us, JOIN US! JOIN US! JOIN US!” Robin was so proud of his team. He should have never doubted them. This ploy to have Slade hug him was absolutely tear jerkingly beautiful.

Slade growled. “No,” he said sternly. Seeing their undeterred eyes gleaming with the promise of a group glomp, Slade quickly changed the subject. “What’s with the bags?”

Raven answered casually, “Oh, that. We’re moving in.”

Slade and Robin simultaneously froze, then yelled out in mutual horror, “WHAT?!”

With a serious look, Cyborg put his hands on Robin’s shoulders. “Look, Robin, we know you’ve been busy.”

“With Slade,” Starfire piped in. “Doing fun stuff.”

“Yeah, that. But even so, Robin, you still have a duty to the team,” Cyborg explained.

“Quite frankly, it doesn’t matter if you elope, get kidnapped or whatever. You’re still a part of the team,” Raven said bluntly. “You have a duty to it, to us. Even if you die I’ll like, bring you back as a ghost or something.”

Beast Boy gave him a sympathetic look. “But dude, we get that this is important to you too! So if you absolutely have to stay with Slade, and if you can’t move from here, there’s only one thing left to do…”

“We’ll just have to move in with you!” Starfire finished, beaming. “Isn’t that great? You can be with Slade and us at the same time!”

Slade choked. “Wh–what?”

Cyborg gave him an unimpressed look. “Haven’t you been listening? We’re moving in.”

Slade’s mind crashed, unable to comprehend that he would have five teenagers, FIVE TEENAGERS, running around in his secret lair. Oh fuck. What the fuck was wrong with the Titans? What sane person responded to a teammate getting kidnapped by deciding to MOVE IN with the kidnapper? He should have known any teammate of Robin’s had to be batshit insane to put up with his insanity.

“You guys…” Robin said in awe, so very touched but also a little dismayed because how was he supposed to get alone time with Slade now?

Raven rolled her eyes. “It’s okay, Robin, we know.”

Robin froze. “K–know? Know what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He giggled nervously.

With a sigh, Raven said wryly, with a little pity, as gentle as she could break the news, “Robin. You have a room full of Slade’s pictures. Which you have doodled all over. With hearts. Multiple, red and pink, hearts. Subtle, you are not.”

“They were supposed to be splatters of blood,” Robin mumbled weakly in protest, eyes nervously flitting between them. “And… all of you… are you okay with it?”

“With Slade? Hell no,” Beast Boy said firmly. “But with you?”

“You’re our friend, Robin,” Starfire said earnestly. “Friends do not abandon each other, no matter what or who they’re doing!”

“And don’t worry, Robin,” Cyborg added, “If we all live together, we can help you set up lots of opportunities for you to seduce him!”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Really? You guys would help me?” 

“Of course!”

“You guys!” It was Robin’s turn to glomp them, and glomp them he did, quickly becoming a bawling mess.

“So you see, you don’t have to run off unexpectedly without even telling us just so you can go seduce your hubby, okay?”

Under her breath, Raven muttered, “I mean, I’ll hand him over to my cult if he does anything, but whatever. He hasn’t really hurt us or anything yet.”

Robin remembered belatedly that his friends probably didn’t know about the nanobots. “Erm, actually–”

It was at that moment that Slade snapped out of his horrifying hallucination where he was being chased around by teenagers all day long. Blowing up his kitchen, messing up his laundry, screwing up delicate machinery, being the gleefully destructive little hellions that are commonly known as ‘teenagers’. He shuddered, and he decided that he absolutely could not let this come to pass.

“You!” he snapped, marching up to Robin, then proceeded to grab him by the collar and shove him bodily at Starfire. “ All of you! Just–! Just take him. Take him, leave, and never darken my doorstep ever again!” 

It was now Robin’s turn to blanch in horror. Slade was kicking him out?! No, no, no nono! All his hard work was ruined!

Slade threw some more machines at them. “There! You can use that to get rid of the nanobots! Now get OUT!”

“Nanowhat?” Beast Boy muttered, confused. They were all a bit confused.

“Why?!” Robin asked desperately, a little upset. Honestly, at this point, if Slade kicked him out, Robin would just end up obsessively stalking him again. And Robin hadn’t even figured out how to hack Slade’s security cameras yet, so he wouldn’t even have any juicy footage to sate his Slade craving urges in the meantime. The horror!

Slade growled, right eyebrow twitching madly. “Because I said so. Because I keep trying to keep it professional, but all you do is keep trying to seduce me! There’s only so long I can put up with it, boy! ”

Que shocked gasp. “You knew?!” Robin yelped. “All along?! And you never said anything?”

Slade gave him an incredulous look. “Subtle you were not, Robin.”

“Why should he have to be subtle about his love?” Starfire defended. 

“You knew…” Robin repeated, mind flashing back to all the times he had– wait a minute. “YOU WERE PRETENDING TO BE OBLIVIOUS THE WHOLE TIME, YOU BASTARD?!”

“Well, it was pretty entertaining,” Slade admitted unashamedly. “ Also. If I acknowledged you, it would have only gotten worse and gotten in the way of your apprenticeship, so I didn’t. But yes, I basically knew every single time you moaned my name.”

Robin gaped. “You… you played with my feelings like that?” Robin demanded to know. Slade would have thought he sounded hurt, if not for what he said next. “Please do it more. You can tug my heartstrings anytime you like.”

For a moment, Slade simply stared at him, nonplussed. He then shook his head, and protested vehemently, “NO. What is wrong with you? I refuse to start anything with you. I don’t need you, Robin. Leave.”

Robin’s eyes blurred. “Is this because I wouldn’t call you ‘Daddy’?” he wailed. “I’m sorry! It’s kinda weird, but I can do it if you want, Daddy!”

Beast Boy squawked. “Oi! I did not need to hear that! Hello, impressionable young child here!”

Slade bristled. “That’s not–!”

Raven was glaring at him disapprovingly. “It’s not very nice to force your kinks upon others.”

Slade gaped. If anyone could be accused of that here, it was clearly Robin. He shook his head, sighing. Harshly, imbuing every bit of severity he could into his voice, he snapped, “It doesn’t matter. I’m still not going to start anything with you. You’re annoying, childish, and a headache inducing menace that repeatedly gets in my way. An unfocused, whimsical, brat with the attention span of a five year old. Have you learned anything I’ve tried to teach you, or were you too busy fantasizing and making a fool of yourself to care?” he sneered, then continued cuttingly, “I don’t need a distraction like that. You’re a minor annoyance at best, an active hindrance that will cost me at worst. You’re not fit to be my apprentice, boy. Get out.”

With those ice cold parting words, Slade whirled around dramatically and left.

And Robin, reeling from Slade’s words, didn’t stop him. Slade had snapped at him before, said harsher things before, and physically beaten him up a lot more, but… that was just Slade being Slade. Being a generally rude asshole. Disguising suggestions of improvements as insults, giving backhanded compliments, showing off his superiority to goad Robin into giving it his all, and that was fine, because Robin got what he meant anyway. This though… Slade meant every word. 

This was Slade rejecting him.

Slade hated him. Slade didn’t want him. Slade didn’t like him. 

His heart crumbled like dust, and all strength left his body as he slumped to the floor and cried and cried. Being a hero meant he had to get back up, but right now… 

He was sure he could never recover from this .

Chapter Text

-Titan’s Tower, where the Titans are most definitely not plotting, no siree- 

“GUYS!” Robin tumbled into the room of the Titan’s Tower with flailing limbs. “I’M AN IDIOT!”

Immediately, he was flooded with reassurances. 

“What? No, look, liking an idiot doesn’t make you an–”

“You’re not an idiot, Slade’s the idiot!”

“Who told you that? Was it Slade? I’LL EVISCERATE THAT–!”

“Robin, you’re one of the smartest people–”

“No, like, I had an epiphany!” Robin exclaimed. “And I’m more certain than ever in what I need to do! So I’m gonna go seduce Slade again, right now!”

The Titans all gave him a flat look. Hadn’t he just spent the last twelve hours crying inconsolably and swearing up and down that he’d never fall in love again? There was a room full of tissues to prove it, along with their poor ringing ears. But that was Robin, bouncing back with more enthusiasm than ever from a set back.

That sort of attitude was nice, but now… there was another problem. 

“Soo… you don’t want Slade to be the unwilling sacrifice in a cult’s sacrificial ritual?” Raven asked hesitantly.

“Or have the traditional Tamaranean live screaming spitting snake dish of broken relations sent to him?”

“Or have his place flooded with giant mutant rats?” 

“Or have him targeted by glitter bomb carrying drones?” 

Robin laughed. “No, that would get in the way, why do you ask?” he replied obliviously. 

“No reason!” the Titans answered in unison, laughing nervously with him. 

There was an awkward silence, then Raven cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I need to make a call.”

“Same,” Beast Boy said. “I just realized I need to cancel my Amazon order.”

Starfire quietly put away her cooking apron, and Cyborg set aside the program he had been working on.

“But Robin, are you sure?” Cyborg asked hesitantly. “Slade was pretty, ya know, decisive in the way he… he was pretty clear how he felt.”

If anything, it made Robin’s grin widen. “Oh don’t worry. I know exactly how he feels. And anyway,” Robin said conspiratorially, voice lowering. “This time… I’ve got a secret weapon.”

Intrigued, they shared glances. “What is it?”

With a smirk, Robin told them.

He decided to take their proceeding laughter as encouragement. 

Slade wouldn’t know what hit him.

It was time to start the Operation.

-Operation: Become a Pedophile’s Wet Dream, Go!-

Robin crashed in. Through a window, not the roof, this time. The repair bills for the roof would be annoying so the window was the only alternative he had left to take, if he didn’t want to start breaking down walls. Oh what, the door? Pft. As if anyone ever used that.

Slade looked up at him, irate, probably ready to yell his ass off, then visibly froze. 

With a smirk, Robin sauntered forward, skipping and  twirling he did so, letting Slade get a good look at him. He had even forgone the cape today, just for that. Boldly, he walked right up, throwing his arms over Slade’s shoulder, then wriggled onto Slade’s lap. He grinned, feeling how Slade’s whole body was so tense. 

“Hey there, sexy,” Robin greeted confidently. “Since I apparently can’t do subtle anyway, lemme be blunt as a hammer: let’s start a relationship. Of the physical, sexual kind. Where we kiss and stuff.”

Slade took a deep breath, then another, and another. Robin waited patiently for him, easily manipulating the mechanism to take off Slade’s mask meanwhile. 

Slade didn’t stop him. 

“Are you crazy ?” The man asked at last, voice strained.

“Well, I am from Gotham, and statistics show that a high percentage of Gothamites have a proclivity for insanity, but that’s not the point! The point is, I like you. I care about you. I know you do too. So let’s fuck, and make it official,” he announced.

Slade hissed. Like a grumpy kitten being woken up from a nap. It was adorable, and made Robin want to coo at him a little. He settled for patting Slade’s head. Unfortunately, Slade didn’t stand for it, grabbing the offending appendage and glowering at it. Unperturbed, Robin continued with his other hand, only to have it caught before it could even reach Slade’s hair. He pouted. So mean, Slade was.

“Robin, what are you thinking ?”

“That your hair is really fluffy and I wanna touch it and you should really let me touch it so please lemme touch it already cause I really really wanna touch it?” 

“Not that!” 

“Oh, did you mean my uniform?” Robin asked innocently, wiggling a little as he enjoyed the feeling of leather against bare skin. “The cape got kind of annoying, so I ditched it.”

“No, but…” Slade visibly swallowed, resisting the temptation to ask, and Robin leaned teasingly forward. “Yes?”

Slade scowled, and firmly pushed him back. Robin let him– he had already made Slade hesitate after all. “I thought I made my stance clear,” Slade said firmly. “Why are you back here?”

“Clear, huh,” Robin started musingly, voice deceptively light and soft. The next words were sharp. “It’s funny you say that, see, because to me, it looks like you were being deliberately obtuse.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Robin breathes, eyes locked on Slade’s. “You said you refuse to be with me. That you don’t need me. Called me all those childish traits. Said I wasn’t fit to be your apprentice.”

“Those weren’t lies.”

“You didn’t lie,” Robin agreed. “But you didn’t tell the truth either.” Robin tilted his head, smiling softly. “Tell me what you want, Slade. You choose to reject me, but don’t you want to be with me? I’m a terrible apprentice, but don’t you want me to be yours all the same? And all those traits of mine, they may be true, but don’t you like them? You said it yourself- it amuses you. Of course you don’t need me, but don’t you want me?” Robin persistently leaned forward again, so close their foreheads could touch. His smile widened. “Cause, you know, you can have me.”

Slade growled, his grip on Robin’s wrist tightening. Robin didn’t flinch, staring unblinkingly into Slade’s eye. 

“Boy–“

Robin didn’t let him finish, tilting his face forward to kiss Slade, but Slade was faster, a hand quickly flitting up to press against Robin’s mouth. The man regarded Robin for a moment, an inscrutable look on his face, but Robin didn’t falter, refusing to look away and actually leaning into Slade’s grip. At last, Slade let out a small sigh, hand loosening. “I said other things, too.” 

Robin suppressed a smile. That wasn’t a no.

“What, that I’m a distraction?” Robin gave a small laugh. “But you want to be distracted,” he pointed out. “I researched you, you know, Deathstroke . You consider yourself a professional. Your usual methodology involves shadows and efficiency, all very mercenary. I wouldn’t have made a good student for someone like that at all, considering my methodology is all about performing in the spotlight. Sure, I might have learned a lot about fighting from you, but even then, our styles differ. You’re proactive, use guns and rely on strength, and I’m the opposite - I’m reactive, am used to non-lethal weapons, and rely on manoeuvrability. Maybe I would have worked well complementing you, but as an apprentice? To be a mini-you? Quite frankly, it would have been a waste of time trying to teach me everything the opposite of what I do.” Robin paused, tilting his head. “And it’s funny, you know, but since you’ve showed up in Jump, you’ve been more about performances and dramatics, even taking jobs that were below your pay grade. Your methodology adapted– became more like mine, because you want me, my attention. You want to be distracted. You’ve been very unprofessional, Slade.”

“You’ve done your research,” Slade said, poker face slipping on.

“I’m a lot of things, Slade– I know you think I’m naive and too idealistic, but I’m not incompetent or stupid,” Robin retorted. Even if seeing Slade’s mind meltingly pretty face usually made his brain turn to goo.

Slade arched an eyebrow. “Say that to the kitchen.”

Robin pretended Slade didn’t say anything, and continued on, voice sharpening. “And that scares you, doesn’t it? That you’d go so far for someone? That someone can make you twist your values, even if only a little. You don’t hate me, you like me, Slade, but that scares you and you’re just a coward that refuses to accept it. You’re running from this because you’re afraid of me becoming a weakness to you.” 

“You’re making a lot of assumptions about things I haven’t said, boy.”

“Haven’t you? Cause I heard it loud and clear, through your actions if not your words,” Robin countered. “But damn it, Slade, wasn’t it worth it? Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun with me. Don’t tell me you didn’t like it, that you weren’t happy with me. And you can have all that and more, if you just stop being a prude about it and stop hanging onto that stupid ‘I’m a professional and I will not fuck my student’ excuse when we both know you’ve already been way too unprofessional when it comes to me. Liking someone isn’t a weakness, Slade, and you know I’m capable or else you wouldn’t have approached me in the first place! And I don’t know what you’re worried about - I have a team to watch my back, and I’m still learning and I will get better, and if you’re so worried still, you can just continue to train me! You don’t have to be afraid, you idiot!” Robin was yelling by the end of it. Taking a deep breath, he continued, voice quieter, “You don’t have to push me away.”

Slade glared. “You don’t know me, Robin.” His voice was low, deadly, hand tightening till his grip became painful. “And you’re an idiot for coming here, for approaching me like this.” His gaze flickered downward, to Robin’s wrists, so small in comparison to his own. Fragile. “Do you know how easy it would be for me, to snap your wrists right now and throw you out?”

Robin, strangely enough, only looked smug, despite the pain. “I know. You could do so easily enough,” he agreed with a bright grin. “But consider, then I’d have to walk home in this outfit, and everyone would see me, and in my poor vulnerable emotionally devastated state, I might have to take up someone’s offer to go home with them so that they can suitably console me, you know?” 

Slade outright growled, eliciting a peal of laughter. 

“You’re only proving my point, Slade,” Robin said, in between giggles. “You’re getting jealous over me, and you didn’t even threaten to kill me. The point is! I can put two and two together, so stop acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. Admit it, Slade, you like me!”

“How is not threatening to kill someone in any way an indicator of them liking you?” Slade demanded to know.

“You didn’t deny it~!” Robin said in a sing-song tone of voice. “And when it comes to you, it definitely is.” 

With a huff, Slade released him, pushing him back again against the table and standing up. He decided to change tactics. “You’re a hero, I’m me, you have to realise all the ways this can go wrong. So why?” 

“But I trust you,” Robin says easily, looking at him with his wide blue eyes, and Slade got a constipated look on his face, like he was trying to resist strangling Robin. Robin would know, he had seen it many, many times over the course of his apprenticeship.

“Don’t just trust me that easily, Robin,” Slade said, exasperated. “I’m a villain . Selfish. A mercenary. I can’t afford to care about you.”

“But you do, anyway, and good luck trying to stop feeling,” Robin snapped, hands clenching and digging into the wood of the table. “You care, Slade, enough that you’d alter your methods to get my attention, enough that you won’t let me die even if it’d be convenient for you, enough that you won’t really hurt me, enough that you want to protect me. So tell me you don’t give a shit about me, Slade, I dare you .”

A single eye stared at him, tense and unreadable.

“I know you care,” Robin repeated quietly, walking up to Slade again, hand fisting at his sides. He looked up at him. “You didn’t let me fall, back there on the roof. You watch out for me in your own ways, however twisted. You had me, you could have really hurt me, you could have destroyed my life, used my name against me, you could have broken me, reduced me to nothing – but you didn’t. The things we choose not to do sometimes matter just as such as what we do choose to do. ”

Slade’s mouth was dry, his voice strained. “Just because I didn’t do that doesn’t mean I’m not a terrible person, you brat.”

Robin stepped forward, hands lifting up to curl against Slade’s chest. “You think I don’t know who you are, what you’ve done? I know you’re not a good person, but so what? You’re good to me. You’ve saved me, comforted me when I was sad, taken care of me. I trust you with me.” 

Slade swallowed, taking a step back till he was against the wall. Robin’s arms fell. “You shouldn’t. I’d take advantage of it, you know I would.”

Robin huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re not the only person I trust, Slade. I trust myself, to know what is wrong and what is right, I trust my friends, to guide me if I become blind, I trust my family, to be there for me no matter what. Besides, you think I’m hot, I think you’re hot, we both wanna bang, what more do you need to start something?” Robin demanded.

Slade hesitated, and Robin eagerly watched, waiting for him to tip. Slowly, the man shook his head. “I’m not a good person. I’m a possessive asshole, and you don’t realise the consequences of your actions– do you think I’d let you go so easily if you started this? I’d have you stay, Robin, even if I had to force you. This isn’t something you can start on a childish whim. You need to walk away.”

With a scowl, Robin answered, “No. Don’t go all ‘if you love them let them go’ on me. I don’t want you to let me go, I want you to stay. Quit being afraid, quit running away from me, quit trying to give up on me, on us, because I don’t want you to go, damn it! What do you think this is?! I’m not letting you go either, Slade! You call this a whim, but if it really was just that, do you think I’d be coming to you like this? Do you really think me stupid enough to put myself in a position of vulnerability for that? Why can’t you see? Whatever happens, I know I’ll regret never trying more than I would starting this. So please, Slade, don’t let me go, don’t go, stay. I want you to stay.” 

Robin could see the man wavering– he’d already been testing the man’s patience for ages. He pushed. “You said you’re a mercenary? Fine then, I’m going to hire you,” Robin said brazenly.

“ What.”

Robin licked his lips, summoning up his courage, and then declared, “I hire you, Slade Wilson, to l–l–love me.” He stuttered, suddenly blushing, realizing he hadn’t quite thought the words through, again. “And in payment, I’ll– I’ll l–l–l–l–lo–lo–l–lo–“

Slade’s lips twitched and he pressed a finger to Robin’s lips. “You don’t have to say it, I get your–“

“I love you!” Robin burst out, blushing. Slade stilled and Robin hastily corrected himself, “I mean, as payment, I’ll love you too.”

Slade sucked in a sharp breath. There was a moment of stillness, like he couldn’t believe what Robin had said.  “Why?” He asked, and Robin didn’t think he had ever heard someone sound so lost. 

“I don’t know,” Robin confessed. “Maybe it’s because all of the things you could’ve done but didn’t, maybe cause you didn’t let me die, maybe cause you’re so focused on me, cause you see me and only me instead of the Dynamic Duo or the Titans, but I just - I don’t know. I just really, really like you and I don’t know why.” He huffed laughing a little. “Trying to explain rationality to the heart is an exercise in futility, I guess.”

Slade just looked at him, like he couldn’t understand what he was saying, and Robin leaned forward, into Slade’s chest, “And you?” Robin asked, sounding equally as vulnerable. “Why me?” 

Slade just blinked at him, eye focusing on Robin’s own. “Because I have never seen anyone more brilliant in my entire life,” he said bluntly, and wow, that made Robin feel inadequate.

“What?” Robin squeaked.

“I have never seen anyone more brilliant, more amazing, more wonderful, than you in my life,” Slade repeated slowly. “I’m a selfish person Robin. I want you to make my life as brilliant as you do yours.” 

Robin blinked. “You– you what– huh?”

Slade sighed. “Robin, when I was fourteen, I was busy being an angsty teenager and hating the world and plotting how to run away. But you– the sheer scope of the things you’ve accomplished, all that you are – how can you not see that? You think I could fight like you when I was fourteen? You think I accomplished anything of note by then? You’re better than me in every way. You’re going to surpass me. And you– despite everything, you always throw yourself into everything with such enthusiasm, with such energy and life and sincerity. You shine, Robin, more brilliant than the sun. And I want that. I want you to shine for me, and never stop. I want to take that brilliance from you, Robin– you have no idea how much.”

“Oh,” Robin said dumbly, blushing. 

With a sharp exhale, Slade stared at Robin for one long moment. “Last chance, Robin,” he warned softly. “No backing out after this. Are you sure?”

Robin thought of every moment he had spent with Slade, as an enemy and apprentice and whatever they were now, of everything Slade had said, how he tried to warn him away, of everything Slade was and Robin was, all the ways this could fuck up and screw him over, and answered without hesitation. “ Yes.”

In taking a deep breath, Slade replied, “Very well, Robin. I accept this contract.” He knelt down, pressing Robin’s forehead against his own. “For life, if you want me.”

Robin beamed. “I do. I want you. I love you. For life.”

Slade chuckled, then lifted Robin up into his arms. “Good. Now since we essentially just got married–“

“M–m–married?! I’m only fourteen, you idiot! Don’t just say–“ Robin stuttered helplessly, even as he wound his limbs around Slade for balance. 

“You pick now of all times to be embarrassed? Seriously, kid, you agreed to be bound to me. For life. By a contract. What else do you call that aside from marriage?” Slade pointed out reasonably.

Robin’s mouth opened into an oh, which then suddenly turned into a hiss when Slade’s hand pressed into his lower back.

“Are you injured?” Slade asked, concerned. He didn’t think he hurt Robin there, but the boy was a superhero that regularly got into fights.

“Uh, not injured, exactly,” Robin hedged. “It’s just new.”

Slade’s narrowed. “Robin. What did you do?”

“Um, well, you see, I kinda–“

Instead of letting Robin stumble his way through what was undoubtedly bound to be an entertaining explanation, Slade set Robin down and flipped him around and lifted away his shirt to get a better look.

His eyes widened, and he had to hold back laughter. 

“ Robin,” he said with amusement. “Did you get a tramp stamp ?”

“Do you like it?” Robin asked, voice small. “I mean, if anyone else sees it they’ll think it’s a reference to me being Robin, but, well…” his voice got even smaller. “They’re your colors.”

Slade still heard him of course, and couldn’t help but smile, looking at the tattoo. It was a robin in flight with wings spread, coloured in black and orange, the exact shade of Slade’s mask, and further encircled in a half black half orange circle. The skin was still red– Robin must have gotten it recently. Fingers traced it, and Slade grinned at how Robin shuddered at the touch. 

“It’s beautiful,” Slade answered, and it was true. And of course, the beauty of it was only enhanced by Robin’s outfit. The green shorts– if it could be called that when it was more like panties with how much of Robin’s perfect bubble butt was spilling out– simply further highlighted how utterly delectable Robin looked. 

Slade pressed a kiss against the tattoo, then spun Robin around and kissed Robin again, leaving the boy breathless. “Now,” he purred, tightening his grip on him as he swept him into a bridal carry, in case he tried to escape. “That reminds me, I think it’s time to consummate our marriage.”

“Consummate?” Robin parroted, still dazed.

Slade arched an eyebrow. “Well first I have to punish you for being such a damn tease– spank your ass so hard till you cry and apologize for every single time you’ve been a brat, then I’ll give you everything you want. I’m going to fuck your ass till you can’t stand it, till you squirm and pull every move you can in a futile attempt to get away, then I’ll drag you back and keep fucking you till you can’t move, till you’re entirely unconscious, and just keep using you till I’m satisfied. You won’t be able to get out of bed for weeks.”

Robin’s dick was hard because of course it was. “Will you cuddle with me after each time?” He squeaked in a small voice, eyes wide.

Slade tilted his head, shrugged. “Sure, kid why not.”

“Then I have no problem,” Robin happily informed him. “You can do anything you like to me!” 

“Anything?”

“ Anything.”

“...you’re going to regret saying that.”

Robin looked at him, wide blue eyes utterly trusting. “I trust you,” he said earnestly, and Slade felt his heart twinge. A strange voice in his head was screaming at him, calling him a monster. Slade would have called it his conscience, but he was quite certain he had tortured it to death years ago. Figures Robin would be capable of resurrection.

“You’re going to keep pulling that line on me, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

“No,” Slade lied.

“Liar,” Robin said fondly, and Slade could tell by his smile that Robin absolutely had no intention of stopping. 

Slade sighed, then looked up to the heavens. “This is what I get for getting a boywife, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?!” Robin pouted, offended.

“You’re a boy and now you’re my wife, what else should I call you aside from my boywife? Speak now or forever hold your silence.” 

“Um–“

Whatever Robin was about to say, he never got to finish. Slade threw him on the bed, kissed him, and then they became far too busy with other activities to argue about pet names.

Welp, guess Robin’s staying Slade’s boywife forever. 

What a tragedy.

Robin will possibly never recover.

Good thing Slade’s there to nurse him back to health. 

Chapter Text

Robin outright squeaks in surprise as he’s suddenly flipped over, landing with a “Uff!” over Slade’s thighs and eating a faceful of sheets. “Slade!” he sputters, going to push himself off only to be pushed back down by a hand to his back. “Hey!” but the hand doesn’t move, a constant pressure keeping him down.

Slade chuckles, deep and sinister and full on supervillain, sending a chill down Robin’s spine and causing his dick to spring to attention because it had absolutely zero sense of self preservation. Aaaand now these shorts are getting too tight. Robin had grown since the last time he put them on, and quite frankly, they look full to bursting. 

Then a hand decides to land on that very same ass, rubbing over it in gentle motions.

Robin’s breath hitches, and he swallows thickly. “S-Slade?” Robin says again, far more timidly. 

“You’ve been a bad boy, Robin,” Slade purrs silkily, one hand kneading those perfect, rounded globes, while the other lays heavy between the boy’s shoulder blades. 

“I-I have?” Robin asks, stifling a whimper. Why did Slade’s hand have to feel so good? Ugh, this was just embarrassing.

“You have. You’ve been a very bad boy. Do you know what I do to bad little boys, Robin?” Slade movements are slow, languid. Measured. Squeezing with the slightest of pressure, going down one cheek from the top right below the small of his back to the bottom right above his thigh. One, then the other, covering each bit of skin thoroughly.

Even with the barrier of his pants and Slade’s gloves, it feels heavenly.

“You give them cookies and send them on their way?” Robin suggests, a pink blush crawling up his face. He isn’t stupid, he knows where this is going, but now that he’s here, now that it’s actually happening.... he’s suddenly becoming a lot more shy, his earlier brazen flirting and confidence deciding that they had been utterly spent and scampering into the depths of his unconsciousness to hide from Slade’s intimidating looming presence. 

Slade laughs softly, and raises his hand. For a heart stopping moment, Robin freezes, but it only lands again to give gentle little pats right over his crack. “You’re smarter than that, boy,” Slade chides. “No, bad boys, you see, get punished.” Slade tugs at the top of the green shorts, pulling it up sharply and eliciting a quick drawn in breath from Robin as his spine extends in response.

“Are you going to punish me, then?” Robin asks breathlessly.

A finger slips into his shorts, right behind his balls, and discovers that he had forgone even underwear. Slade takes in a sharp breath as his gloved fingertip meets skin, and Robin hides a grin. Hah! He knew his ass was irresistible.

“Yes,” Slade says, low and dark, pinching the fabric together between two fingers. He pulls it up, pushing the fabric as best as he can between Robin’s cheek, eliciting another squeak. “I think I will,” Slade finishes, tugging the fabric and straining it till he’s given the boy a wedgie. Robin’s making a continuous, high pitched noise now, but Slade ignores it as the boy’s still hard against his thigh.

He got what he wanted. The panties - because really, they couldn’t be called anything but - are still on but Slade also has got Robin’s ass cheeks exposed, like as if he were wearing a thong. Perfect.

“S-Slade-”

SMACK! 

The slap is heavy and loud, nowhere near Slade’s full strength but it’s not like he’s bothering to hold back either, and Robin jolts - back arching and trying to squirm off but Slade holds him down with a single hand. 

Slade looks down, admiring the red hand print that had appeared. Beautiful. He brings his hands down again, on the other cheek, just to watch those cheeks bounce with it. Robin can try to squirm all he wants, but he isn’t getting away that easily.

Smack!

Smack! 

Smack!

The things that wiggling ass is doing to him… Does Robin even realize how delicious he looks, red cheeks and green panties squeezed between them? “Don’t try to run now, Robin,” he chastises, even as he’s perhaps enjoying all the wrigging a bit too much.

Robin flushes at Slade’s words, pink spreading across his cheeks, because - he wasn’t running. His shorts were digging between his cheeks and had his cock trapped in them, and sure, those hits hurt, but they hurt good, and Robin just couldn’t help but rut against Slade’s thigh, trying to get his cock some stimulation.

Robin hopes Slade doesn’t notice, so of course he does. 

“My, my, Robin, are you actually enjoying this?” Slade asks, spotting Robin’s predicament, spanking Robin again. He clicks his tongue in apparent disappointment. “You do know you’re not allowed to come during a punishment, don’t you, boy?”

Robin whimpers, trying to still. That’s an impossibility, and they both know it. But that’s okay! Robin is a superhero, and superheroes do the impossible all the time! He won’t fail. Slade, though, Slade’s a villain. He’s so mean, intentionally trying to set Robin up to fail , so cruel, and that only increases his arousal. 

A hand caresses his now red ass. “You’ll do your best to stay still, won’t you?”

“Yes, master,” Robin answers automatically, gripping the sheets. He doesn’t even have to think about it - maybe he could move, keep humping Slade’s leg till he came and then get fucked, but more than that, more than his own pleasure, he just wants to be good. 

He wants to be good for Slade.

“That’s a good boy,” Slade croons, and then the hits start up again, the sounds echoing in the room. 

Slade starts off slow, thoroughly covering every inch of the boy’s ass till it blooms red. He alternates the strength of his smacks, sometimes almost featherlight with one, then coming down hard and fast with the next. He switches up the timing too, sometimes landing one after the other without a second to breathe, at other times taking a while to soothingly pet the boy’s ass, leaving Robin utterly incapable of knowing when the next one would land.

When one lands hard on the strip of sensitive skin between his thighs and ass, Robin jumps, squeaking, concentration on staying still breaking. Before Slade can scold him, Robin’s already apologizing. “Sorry!” he gasps immediately, like Slade might get up and leave if he doesn’t. “I’m sorry!”

Slade has to stifle a laugh at how utterly sincere the boy is. “You should be,” he mutters sternly, though there’s a smirk on his lips still. It’s a good thing Robin can’t see his face.

“I’ll do better,” Robin promises, settling down again.

“I know you will,” Slade agrees easily, raising his hand for another slap. “You’re mine, after all.” He then proceeds to make Robin’s task increasingly difficult, upping the frequency and force of his slaps. It’s impossible for Robin not to squirm, though he tries. But Slade keeps at it ruthlessly, spanking the heated flesh over and over again in just the way to drive Robin crazy. 

It just keeps on building, more and more, each hit stinging and sending tremors through Robin’s body, ass burning every second and building into a wildfire. Robin’s breathing is getting ragged, now, eyes blurry with tears, and though he does his best not to move, it’s impossible.

With movement, comes the grinding, comes that oh-so-sweet stimulation against his cock. 

Robin’s crying now, crying because it hurts, but it hurts so good, and despite the instinctive way his body tries to twist from Slade’s grasp, he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave. Wants to stay here, with Slade, forever and ever.

“You’re forgetting something, Robin,” comes Slade’s silky voice, and that sends Robin’s mind into a panic because he doesn’t want to forget, doesn’t want to disappoint Slade at all.

“Ah - what - ah!” Robin starts only to be cut off by another slap.

Slade sighs, and damned if that sound doesn’t make his heart clench. “ Apologize, Robin.”

There’s a single moment where Robin’s brain has to struggle to remember what he’s supposed to be apologizing for, a moment where Slade lands quick successive swats, all over the same spot. He hisses, twitching, fingers clenching and as he quickly blurts out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Sl- ah!- Master! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?”

“For b-being a tease!” Robin quickly said, before Slade could hit him again. 

“Good boy. And you’re not going to do it again, are you?”

Robin’s eyes furrow, confused. “...But you like it?”

With a sigh, Slade swats him again. Robin yelps. “Yes! I mean, no! I mean, I’m very sorry and will never do it again, master!”

“Good boy,” Slade says, stroking his heated flesh. His hands slip under the waistband of Robin’s shorts, pulling it down to his knees, exposing Robin’s butt entirely. Robin shivers, sniffling quietly. It hurts, and he can’t believe he had been crying like a baby over a spanking. Fucking hell, he isn’t five anymore.

At least that’s ove-

Smack!

“Slade!” he yelps, almost bolting forward.

Slade, being the bastard he is, laughs. “Apologize again, Robin. I’m not stopping until you seem sincere.”

“I am!” Robin says frantically. “Very sincere!”

Smack!

“Then prove it, boy. Apologize. Again and again,” Slade says, readying his hand. “Every single time I spank you, I want to hear how sorry you are.”

Smack!

“S-sorry! I’m sorry master.” Robin isn’t sure how many times Slade hits him, but it goes on and on, continues and all that it leads to is Robin frantically rutting against Slade’s thigh.

Slade totally planned it, the bastard, Robin decides, even as he obediently spews out another apology along with tears that he can’t quite hold back. But it’s okay, Robin can manage, he can be good, he can stay in control and not come, he has to be good, if he’s good Slade will stay, so he has to-

Robin comes, white splattering onto Slade’s thighs.

A soft laugh. “Dirty boy,” Slade tuts teasingly.

For a moment, Robin’s utterly still, then he bursts aloud into tears. Loud, ugly, panicked, sobbing tears.

“Robin?!” Slade asks, sounding almost panicked himself. Sure, Robin was crying before, but he made a token effort to hold it back. Now he’s not even trying to do that, and that freaked Slade out.

Slade quickly gathers the boy up into his arms, letting Robin bury his face into the crook of Slade’s neck. It muffles the sobs, but only somewhat. His hands encircle the boy, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back while he tries to shift Robin into a position that won’t put so much pressure on his ass. “Hey. Robin, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

The reply is mumbled so quiet even Slade has a hard time hearing. “Say that again, kid?”

“I came!” Robin wails, loud enough to make Slade’s ears hurt. He lifts his head, looking up at Slade with teary blue eyes. It’s the most beautiful sight Slade has ever seen. “I wasn’t supposed to - you said not to - but I did - and - and - I fucked up - I’m sorry.”

“Ah,” Slade says, something like impressed horror tainting his voice as he realizes that Robin is in fact completely sincere. He’s crying, genuinely upset, because he thinks he failed to meet Slade’s expectations. Slade is hard. Very, very hard. Perhaps he should feel guilty for pushing the boy like this, but really, mostly, he’s just hard .

Slade holds Robin like that for a while, lets him cry it out while Slade, the reason for his misery, wipes away his tears and soothes him. “You know I don’t care, right?” Slade says gruffly. “Whether you’re good or bad. I won’t let go of you either way. You’re mine, now and forever.”

Robin sniffles. “But I wanna be good for you,” he mumbles.

Slade can’t help it, he kisses him. “Just by being here, you are,” he assures.

“Promise?” Robin sniffles, cuddling closer. 

“Promise,” Slade assures, holding Robin tighter.

“You won’t leave me?” Robin asks, soft and timid.

“Not ever,” Slade answers firmly, without any room for doubt. 

“Okay,” Robin says, relaxing. A tired yawn escapes him.

Slade holds him just like that for another minute, then, almost regretfully, Slade sets Robin down on the bed, untangling their limbs. He pulls up the blanket over Robin, then prepares to get up.

A hand snakes out and clamps around Slade’s wrist. “What are you doing?” Robin asks, suddenly wide awake again.

Slade tries to pry his hand out of the grip. Key word being tries. “Setting you up for bed, kid. Let go.”

“What?! Why? You’re still hard. Aren’t you going to fuck me? Aren’t I pretty enough? Is it my ass? Did you expect more of it? Did I fuck up? Where did I fuck up? Oh fuck - mmph!” Robin’s protests becomes muffled as Slade covers his mouth with his other hand.

“Calm down, Robin,” Slade says, lips twitching. Bastard. Robin knows he’s enjoying his misery. “You’re tired. I don’t want to push you.”

Robin bites down.

“Boy!” Slade barks, removing his hands immediately. “What the hell. You do not bite. What are you, a fucking dog?”

Robin glares back through teary eyes and says petulantly, “You said you’d fuck me. So fuck me. I can take it damn it! I don’t care if I get hurt, I want to get hurt, so fuck me stupid already, you - you old man!”

Slade glowers and hisses, “I’m trying to be a good person for once, you fucking brat.”

“I don’t want good,” Robin retorts, pulling Slade closer and wiggling onto his lap, “If I wanted good, I’d have taken Speedy up on his offer. I want you.”

Slade blinks, and his eye narrows. “Speedy?” Something glints in his eye, like he’s plotting murder.

Robin immediately blanches. “No! Bad Slade! No murder! Only fuck!”

“...am I supposed to be a dog?” Slade asks flatly.

Time to bring out the big guns. Robin’s lower lip quivers, and his wet lashes began to overflow, and he wiggles his hips enticingly against Slade. “You - you w-wouldn’t rather d-do me than m-murder, master?”

“Fucking hell, kid, what is wrong with you?” Slade asks, exasperated. 

“I have four brain cells, one for each letter of horny,” Robin replies immediately, eyes widening innocently.

“Horny has five letters, you little brat,” Slade points out, giving up on Robin letting go.

Robin, shrugs, giving an utterly dazzling smile. “All my brain cells are horny, they can’t count.”

“ Robin.”

“ Master.”

Slade gives him a dirty look.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Robin says, “Slade, I would like to respectfully request that you stop pussyfooting around pretending to be a good person and that you’re not horny and just fuck me already. For fuck’s sake , I can feel that you’re hard.”

“...fair enough.”

Robin’s dumped onto the bed again, but this time, it’s with Slade leaning over him like a dangerous predator about to eat his meal. Robin would like to be eaten. He would also like Slade to hurry the fuck up.

“You sure about this?” Slade asks again, bending Robin’s legs up, panties still hanging around the knees . “We can do it later. I’ll only mock you for it, I won’t leave,” he says, which Slade thinks is very generous.

“Slade I have been waiting for you to strip me and fuck me stupid since the moment you asked me to be your apprentice, yes I’m fucking sure,” Robin nearly yells. For fuck’s sake, if Slade didn’t stop delaying and start fucking, Robin was going to have to assume he suffered from erectile dysfunction or something because for what other reason could Slade possibly have for being such a fucking idiot that - 

A finger, warm and wet, presses against his rim, and Robin’s breath catches. Sneaky asshole, when did he even get the lube? Slade holds his finger there, encircling, clearly intending on teasing Robin but Robin’s having none of it. His grip on Slade’s shoulders tightens, and he shoves himself down, right onto Slade’s finger.

“ Robin,” Slade scolds, exasperated, but he’s too entranced by the way Robin’s tight ass clenches around his fingers and the boy’s wide, surprised eyes, to have any real heat behind it. He pumps it in and out slowly, letting the boy adjust, watching how his hole swallowed it up each time. “Don’t push yourself. You’ll get hurt.”

“You’ll take care of me,” Robin counters.

Slade swats him lightly. “That’s not an excuse to get hurt, kid.” The boy grins victoriously, far too smugly, and Slade slips another finger inside to shut up whatever thoughts the boy was having.

It works, Robin’s face scrunching up as he squirms. It’s a lot, but Slade’s fingers are lubed enough that it doesn’t really hurt. It feels… kinda nice actually. He likes it, likes Slade being inside him even a little. The fingers scissor and stretch him out, pumping and twisting until- 

“Ah,” Robin gasps, feeling Slade hit his prostate. 

Slade grinned. “Like that?” he asks, pressing it again as he slips another finger inside. 

“Yes!” Robin gasps. “Yesyes yes!” Slade keeps at it, pressing and twisting, and ugh, Robin feels stuffed already. It stops all too soon, and then Robin has something else pressing against his rim.

“Okay?” Slade asks.

There’s a flutter of nervousness in his stomach, but Slade is patient, waiting for him to answer. “Kiss me?” Robin asks timidly, and Slade obliges, warm lips on his own, tongue slipping in, soft and slow but no less firm and encompassing. They part, Slade’s face still lingering close, and Robin holds tight. “Okay,” he breathes. 

Slade pushes in, blunt pressure increasing until the head pops in. Robin’s not sure what sort of noise he makes, but it’s one that has Slade leaning down to kiss him again, shushing him. “You’re okay,” Slade assures.

Robin cants his hips up, breath hitching as he feels more of Slade slip inside. His hips fall back towards the bed, but Slade follows, pushing more and more of himself in bit by bit. And it’s just full. He’s full, fuller than he’s ever been before, than imagined in his fantasizes or dreams, full of warmth and heat and Slade, and just full.

“I love you,” Robin says again, and feels Slade tense. “You don’t have to say it back. But I love you, and I’m going to say it again and again, every day, every week, month, year after year, until you can’t doubt it anymore. I love you, Slade. Every bit of you.”

“Robin?” Slade asks, voice strained.

“Yes?” 

“Stop talking, or I’m going to end up fucking you so hard we break the end.”

Robin blinks innocently, wide-eyed. “But what if I want you to fuck me so hard we break the bed?”

Slade growls, and grips Robin by the hips. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

“Nope, no one ever taught me,” he says, far too glibly for someone who’s about to be fucked senseless.

Slade sighs, gives it up as a lost cause, and starts fucking him. Despite his words, he still holds himself back at first, not wanting to hurt Robin too much. Of course, Robin ruins those plans.

“What’s the matter, old man? Too tired? Afraid of straining your back? Too old to keep up with a child anymore? Hmm?” 

So obviously, Slade can’t allow that to stand. He glares down at the boy, very deliberately raising his hips till he finds the right angle to make the boy sing.

It’s still not enough to make the boy shut up, though his cock is hard and weeping precum.

“R-really, Slade?” Robin manages to ask between pants and moans, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. “T-that all you g-got? C-can’t go a-any harder or f-faster? Bet Speedy would-”

Slade outright snarls. Okay, now he’s annoyed. He ups his thrusts, becoming rougher, going faster and harder and giving the boy exactly what he asked for, and perhaps even too much of it, going by the way his eyes tear and nails dig into Slade’s shoulders.

“P-please - Slade - more - don’t stop - please -”

Apparently not. Slade obliges, letting loose and pounding the boy hard enough that there would definitely be bruises left behind from this. He keeps it up, fucking the boy harshly till he comes, and that last spasm of the boy’s inner walls around his cock is enough to pull Slade over the edge too. 

Somewhere in the mess, the panties tore.

“I liked those,” Robin complains, cheeks flushed and Slade still in him. “What am I supposed to wear now?”

“Nothing,” Slade says bluntly. “I like you naked. Easy access.”

Robin squeaks, cheeks utterly flaming. “Oh.” There’s a far away look in his eyes, like he’s already fantasising about it.

Sighing, Slade slips out, lying next to the boy and pulling them both under the covers. “Any reason for goading me?” he asks, petting the boy’s sweat matted hair.

Robin’s nose scrunches up, eyes flickering up to him. “It was better for you that way, right?” 

“Robin-”

“I like you. I want you to like it, too. So you can be as rough as you like, okay? I can take it, you don’t have to hold back for me, not ever,” Robin cut him off, voice fierce and it might have been intimidating too, if not for the cute little yawn at the end.

With a sigh, Slade pulls him closer, tucking them both under the covers.

“I can keep going,” Robin insists, even as he snuggles closer to Slade and another yawn escapes him.

“I believe you,” Slade lies agreeably. “We’re just taking a little… break.”

Robin’s eyes droop. “But even if I fall asleep, you can still fuck me,” he mumbles sleepily, snaking a arm and leg around Slade.

Slade’s cock twitches in interest, for it has no shame. “I’ll consider it,” he says, mouth dry. 

“Mm’kay,” Robin says, and yawns again. “...Slade?”

“Yes?” Slade asks.

“I love you.”

Slade’s eyes flicker down, but Robin’s eyes are already closed. He pets the boy’s hair, soft and gentle, and listens to Robin’s breaths and heartbeat slow down with sleep. So fragile, so trusting. Doesn’t the kid have an ounce of self preservation? The thing is Slade could do to him right now… As small as Robin is, as vulnerable as he is sleeping like this, so utterly open, Slade could do anything to him and Robin couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him.

…but Slade won’t. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t take advantage. Why he doesn’t hurt him, doesn’t even fuck him like this even after Robin gave permission.

No, that’s a lie. 

Slade knows why.

He just doesn’t want to admit it.

It’s an hour later, after all the lights have gone out and with Robin deep in slumber, that he lays a soft kiss on the boy’s forehead. He brushes the hair out of the boy’s face, listens to the steady and gentle thrum of his heartbeat, and says, in the softest of whispers, “I love you too, little bird. Good night.”