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They stood there on the rooftop. Both panting, bloodied, and bruised. He watched Gotham’s beloved Bat. Studied his posture, staying on guard with his own, knowing that Batman would use any slight disadvantage against him. They had been fighting over the span of a few rooftops for the past 15 minutes.
15 minutes was usually child’s play for him. He’s taken out dozens of people before in the span of 5. Tousled with other metas like him. Stronger than him sometimes, yet he still would either come out on top or be absolutely beaten. But of course when you go against the Bat things don’t go as planned. Rarely did he ever find someone who was actually on par with him.
Super serum and all, Batman was still giving him a good run for his money, and somewhere along the fight he ended up losing his mask, but damn did it feel good to actually not hold back as much in a fight. Every solid and well aimed punch he landed on the Bat got him a broken finger or perfectly aimed punch to his one remaining eye in return. Now Slade wasn’t religious, but he was thankful to whatever was out there for the serum that helped him heal faster. If not for that his eye would have swelled shut and he’d have to fight blind. Not that he couldn’t do it, but it was always better to have actual sight when going against any of the bats.
What was supposed to be a quick hit on a Gotham politician unsurprisingly became a bloody fight when Batman found him mapping out the route that said politician would be taking tomorrow evening. The territorial bastard was already pissed off with finding a rogue meta in his city. Then he found out what exactly Slade was going to do and the fighting started.
But alas, Slade was a punctual man and this fight had gone on 15 minutes too long. It was time to stop entertaining himself and actually end this little quarrel.
With a move and speed that even a meta would have trouble tracking, Slade moved forward and grabbed a hold of Batman’s shoulders, pulling the Bat towards himself and then spinning so that he would be behind him. Immediately he could see and feel Batman readjusting his posture to break out of Slades hold, but Slade didn’t give him the chance.
Before the Bat could even get his footing right Slade kicked him in the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. He didn’t wait for Batman to get use to the new position, he immediately put him in a chokehold while pushing most of his weight on to him. Causing Batman to fumble as he was pushed onto his stomach and pinned by all 200 plus pounds of pure muscle. Even while having the air choked out of him and pinned by a skilled meta, somehow the Bat still managed to throw a well aimed elbow that caught Slade in the ribs. It did little to nothing though, and Slade knew if he didn’t wrap this up now, Batman would somehow find some leverage and get the fight going again.
So Slade reached into one of the pouches of his Deathstroke utility belt, and grabbed one of the syringes he kept for a situation just like this. He plunged it into the Bats neck, where he knew the kevlar was thinner in order to have more mobility. With a grunt of rage and one final but weaker elbow thrown at him, the Bat collapsed.
Slade sat back on his haunches and looked down at Batman passed out on the top of a building in the middle of the night with rain pouring down all over them. This wasn’t their first fight and he was sure it wouldn’t be their last. Crazy son of a bitch really should be locked up in Arkham with the rest of the city’s garbage, if you asked him.
If only the world knew that Batman was actually billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, this fight probably would’ve never taken place since the courts would almost positively thrown Bruce in a padded cell with the rest of the scum. And something about that thought made Slade feel uneasy.
He enjoyed fighting the Bat and his lot. It was always a good way to blow off steam or just a good way to entertain himself with annoying them.
No, Slade would keep the Bats and his little unhinged clans identity a secret for now. These moments, these fights, they were too good to give up just yet.
Looking at the Bats soaked form, Slade decided to have a little mercy and dragged the unconscious man to the part of the roof that was covered from the rain by an AC unit and left him there. If someone else got lucky and got the drop on the Bat, well, that wasn’t his problem.
——————————————-
As expected, Slade fulfilled his contract and the politician was dead by evening the next day, and with that he left Gotham without causing anymore havoc.
Months passed by before Slade got another contract offer in Gotham. A contract to take out Batman himself.
He couldn’t have accepted the contract fast enough.
If anyone was going to officially take out the Bat then he’d rather it’d be him instead of one of Batman’s rogues. Especially that deranged and bat obsessed clown. Plus all of his contracts have been too easy lately. No one has put up a good fight, and the missions had become so easy that he was becoming bored.
It wasn’t that Slade was just some blood thirsty mindless murder, but the adrenaline and the thought of “what if I actually don’t make it back?” always got Slades blood humming to see what was in store for him.
So within 12 hours of receiving and accepting the contract, Slade found himself back in Gotham.
He knew Bruce was hosting an extravagant gala at his home for some charity event tonight and Slade thought it would be the perfect event to crash.
Stopping by his one safe house in Gotham to shower and shave, he left his little bare haven in a perfectly tailored suit. He decided to go all black since he knew the color favored him. Underneath the tailor suit, he was loaded to the nines. Throwing knives and pistols well hidden in pockets and tucked under his belt.
Not bothering to sneak into Bruce’s gala, he simply walked in through the front doors with an invitation that wasn’t fake (just stolen) and went on his way through the manor to where the ballroom was. Gaudy damn place would have one of those.
Finding it with no problem, Slade chose to observe his surroundings while entertaining a flute of champagne. He spotted Bruce easily. The host was using that playboy charming smile of his on a group of women who were ecstatic to have his attention and flirting with them in return.
He watched until Bruce suddenly looked up in his direction and they made eye contact. With a slight smirk and a raise of his glass Slade acknowledged him. Bruce’s playboy smile stayed, but there was a new sharpness now to his gaze. Excusing himself from the group of ladies, he made his way to Slade.
“Slade. What a surprise to see you here.” Bruce said, not unkindly but with a glare that let him know he was unwelcome.
Taking another sip of his champagne, Slade looked at him.
Bruce had his hair parted and gelled back perfectly with an immaculate tailored white and black suit to bring the whole look together. His diamond cuff links glimmered when they caught the light and his black leather shoes were polished and shined so well, you could see your reflection in them.
He looked good.
So much so that Slade’s cock gave a little stir of arousal.
Bruce was a handsome man in his early thirties. It wasn’t the first time he had noticed Bruce’s looks. Something about knowing what Batman looked like under the cowl always did it for him. He didn’t just see his mouth always in a firm line. Slade knew the shade of blue Bruce’s eyes were. How his eyebrows framed his face so perfectly. How his cheekbones looked as if the gods chiseled them out themselves. Those looks combined with how frustratingly smart and skilled in hand to hand combat he was, had always left Slade riled up after a fight.
Before killing that politician and after subduing Bruce the last time he was in Gotham, he had found himself in his safe house desperately stroking his cock to the thought of the Bat. How he had looked unconscious and soaked from the rain. He had came hard but wasn’t completely satisfied. Slade could bet his whole bank account that the Bat was a good lover, and at that moment he had wanted nothing more than to just have him split open on his cock.
Looking Bruce dead in the eye now he smirked a bit.
“Beautiful home you got here, Brucie. I just wanted to stop by and see how things were in Gotham.”
Bruce’s polite smile fell.
Suddenly grabbing a firm hold of Slade’s arm, Bruce dragged him out of the ballroom and into one of the spare rooms that only had a piano, a desk, and some chairs in it. Moonlight streamed in from the huge windows, bright enough for both of them to see each others figures with no problem.
Bruce quietly closed the door behind them and Slade heard the click of the lock being set in place. Not bothering with turning the lights on.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce growled out now. All faux politeness gone and the Bat persona fully in place.
“That’s no way to treat a guest, Brucie.”
Bruce growled and stepped closer to him, standing directly in front of him now. Slade was only taller by about an inch. He had liked that about the Bat too. Bruce was tall and all muscle. A solid 6’3 man. Yet Slade still had 1 inch on him, and he liked the small difference.
“I won’t ask again.” Bruce- no, Batman said.
Slade studied him. He was already starting to get a low thrill of the hunt in his veins. Craving the fight he knew was coming. What a shame it was that this would be their last time.
“There’s a contract out.” Slade said casually. He threw back the rest of his mostly forgotten champagne and set the flute down on the desk that was behind him.
Bruce grunted. His version of telling Slade to continue.
Slade rolled his eye at that.
“A contract to kill Batman. A contract that I have accepted.”
Immediately Bruce’s stance changed to one of defense, and Slade didn’t waste anytime throwing the first punch at him.
They fought with a ferocity that had Slade’s cock absolutely twitching. Bruce made use of the furniture around them, throwing a chair at Slade that hit him in the chest. Undeterred, Slade kept coming at him with his full speed and strength.
It was apparent that without the Batsuit to shield and absorb most of the impact from his attacks, Bruce wasn’t going to last as long as usual. Still Bruce came at him with skill, and blocked when necessary. Pulling out batarangs from seemingly nowhere and stabbing them into Slade’s body.
He wasn’t left untouched though. Slade had dislocated his arm, and hit him so hard in his jaw he saw the Bat waver for a bit, as if he was going to collapse.
Slade’s wounds were already healing but Bruce looked disheveled. His white suit jacket splattered with both of their blood and his eye rapidly swelling shut from a punch Slade had landed. Slade’s cock was almost fully hard now, and fighting Bruce like this without either of their usual costumes, had Slades cock throbbing.
Pulling out one of the knifes he had tucked in his jacket, Slade readjusted his stance and watched Bruce. Waiting for him to pounce so he could lodge the knife into his belly.
Bruce studied him as well. Grabbing what seemed to be the last batarang from his jacket. They slowly circled each other, watching and waiting to see who would strike first.
Slade did.
He ducked and tackled Bruce to the floor. Bruce’s legs immediately wrapped around his waist and with the momentum of the fall, and the strength of his leg muscles, flipped them so he was on top.
Both had their weapons pointed at the others throat.
The only difference was, Slade knew Bruce wouldn’t kill him. No matter what. That thought made his cock give another traitorous throb of arousal and the feeling didn’t go unnoticed by the Bat.
In fact, Bruce ground his hips into his and the look he gave Slade could only be described as one of disbelief, anger, and confusion.
“You’re hard.” Bruce stated. It wasn’t a question but Slade still responded, “I am.” Without an ounce of embarrassment either.
Bruce’s face had gone back to his usual stoic expression before he said, “The adrenaline of the fight has gotten to you.”
Slade let his head fall back on to the huge Turkish rug beneath them and closed his one remaining eye. “Mmm. That among other things.”
He cracked open his eye when he felt fingers wrapping around his throat.
“You come to MY city, into MY own home uninvited with a contract to kill ME and you’re HARD?”
“Mmm.”
The fingers around his throat tightened.
“You should be in Arkham with the rest of them.” Bruce spat as he looked down at him. Slade only looked up at him with an annoyingly amused gaze.
“Should I?” Slade asked as he suddenly flipped them over again so that he was now on top. Bruce’s grip on his throat didn’t waver. If anything it got stronger.
Then Slade ground his hips down into Bruce’s and he felt the slight bulge there. His smirk widened and he felt Bruce’s hold on his neck get tighter for a second. He looked down at Bruce, whose hair was no longer perfectly gelled back, and a stray strand fell onto his face making him look already fucked out. Bloodstains on his suit and swollen eye be damned he was still easily one of the most attractive men that Slade has ever laid eye on. Bruces gaze was sharp and Slade only stared back.
“You’re hard.” Slade parroted back to Bruce and the look of absolute fury he gave Slade only made his cock twitch more.
Surging down he caught Bruce’s lips in a kiss.
What was meant to be a teasing short kiss, turned into a full blown make out with a fight for dominance. Bruce grunted when Slade bit into his already split bottom lip. In return he roughly yanked on Slades hair with one hand and dug his short nails into his throat with the other. Slade moaned at the sensation.
With Bruce grinding up and Slade grinding down into him they both ended up panting into each other’s mouths, breaths coming in faster. Slade could feel Bruce’s cock twitch through his pants when he would suck on Bruce’s tongue. Slade groaned when Bruce broke the kiss to instead focus on the hand that was still digging into his throat.
Slade watched him as Bruce removed his hand from his throat then surged forward to bite and suck on it.
“That’s it, Wayne. Let loose.”
Bruce growled and bit down on his neck HARD. Punctured the skin a bit but the feeling did nothing but make Slade buck into him harder. Bruce unclamped his teeth from his neck and began to suck the wound and give surprisingly gentle kisses to it. Slade couldn’t take it. He needed to be in the Bat. Now.
He pushed himself up onto his haunches and stared down at Bruce, who was now slightly sitting up with his arms supporting him.
“Unless you want me to fuck you into the carpet right now, I suggest we stop.” Slade said in a tone that was deeper than usual. Bruce’s pupils dilated a little more at the sound. Then Bruce was locking his legs behind his waist and pulling him forward.
“You don’t get to stop.” Bruce growled as he pulled Slade down for another filthy kiss.
Slades hands immediately went for Bruce’s pants then. Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper, Bruce’s hands doing the same to his.
“If you wanted me to fuck you so bad, you only had to ask.” Slade said. Bruce slapped him across his cheek with a force that actually left a sting and red mark behind that couldn’t be seen in the dark of the room.
“Mind your tongue Slade. I can flip the tables if I wanted to. Or call this whole thing off and drag you to Arkham.”
Slades cock was leaking precum from the aggression.
“Mmm, boy. You wouldn’t know what to do with me on your cock.”
Bruce scoffed. “Wouldn’t I? You think because you’re an old meta I wouldn’t know what to do with you? You’re not special. I probably wouldn’t even have to prep you seeing as you like pain. I’d only lube up my cock and shove it in you. You would cum from my cock alone. I wouldn’t even touch yours, and you’d be throbbing around mine. And I wouldn’t let you cum from anything else but that. I’ll train that old body of yours to only find pleasure from my cock being in you. Is that what you want? Because you know as well as I do, that I can do it.”
Slade shuddered hard. If he would have been standing up his knees probably would have buckled. The thought of it being said so vividly by Batman himself had him almost wanting to let him do it. Who would have known that the Bat could talk like THAT?
“Careful there boy. It sounds like you already have a second time for this planned out.”
“That’s because I do.” And with that Bruce flipped them over for the third time.
He shoved Slades pants down to his knees before he traced the outline of his cock through his briefs with his tongue, suckling on the wet patch that had formed where the tip of his cock was. Slade stayed still. Watching and waiting to see what Bruce was going to do.
“You want me to suck your cock till you can’t take it anymore? Do you want me to sit on your face and use your tongue for my pleasure alone? Or perhaps, you want me seated firmly on your dick? And what a lovely size cock you have. So many options. It’d be a real shame if you were to complete that contract you have,” Bruce said in a tone that was a mix of the Bats deep growl and Brucies playfulness as he continued to trace the outline of Slades cock with his finger instead.
The glare Slade gave him was exactly what he was looking for.
“Do not play games with me, Wayne.” Slade growled out, his hands gripping the carpet beneath them. Bruce smirked down at him.
“I’m not playing at all, Slade. Call off the contract or nothing else happens tonight or any other night for that matter.”
Now Slade valued his reputation and his contracts. He did not want potential costumers thinking that he could not fulfill them. Or that there was someone too great for even Deathstroke to conquer. Especially if that someone is the Bat. But Bruce had his fingers now gripping his cock so tightly he felt himself throb again, and Slade had wanted to fuck him so badly for so long now. Just this once was he willing to break his contract.
“You fucking brat. FINE.” And with that their lips met again in a bruising kiss.
The time for teasing had passed and they both yanked at each other’s clothes with a renewed determination. He helped Bruce gently remove his jacket from his dislocated arm and laid it on the ground beside them. Soon they were both stripped bare. Bruce’s body hovering over Slades with their cocks touching each other, grinding a bit to get some friction.
“Slade”, Bruce panted against his lips. Slade gripped his hips and ground up into him.
Reaching into one of his jacket pockets, Bruce pulled out a small packet of lube and a condom. He opened the packet of lube and poured it onto his fingers. With that he reached behind and began fingering himself open.
Slade watched him through the moonlight. The light coming from behind him, shining beautifully on his skin. Watched as Bruce threw his head back and how he panted when he hit that sweet spot inside him.
Once he deemed himself prepped enough he dropped the condom onto Slades stomach. Slade looked at the packet. He’ll wear it, if Wayne wants him to, but he really doesn’t want a piece of rubber getting in the way now.
“I can’t carry diseases. The serum doesn’t allow my body to and I check myself every week to make sure it stays that way. I’ll wear the condom if its what makes you comfortable but I’d really like to just feel you.”
The hungry look Bruce gave him made his cock leak another river of precum.
“Good. Because I’m clean too and I really want to feel you in me.”
And with that, Bruce rose and lined himself up with Slade cock before sliding down all the way in one go.
The girth of his cock had Bruce crying out, his nails digging in to Slades pecs as the crown of his cock popped in to his tight passage. Slade did nothing but grip his hips tighter. Breathing through his nose and calming himself down as to not start thrusting in.
Bruce was TIGHT. Even with the thorough prep and lube, he was clamping down on Slades cock like nothing else has. So tight, wet, and warm. If not for his self control and experience, he would have bursted his load right then.
Eventually Bruce became restless even though it wasn’t enough time for him to adjust, and began to rise and fall on Slades cock.
Slade growled his approval.
“Good boy, Wayne. So tight, so wet, so GOOD. C’mon, show me how you ride cock.”
Bruce’s breath stuttered and his walls fluttered at that and with a new vigor began to earnestly ride Slades cock. The sounds of the their fucking filled the room.
Slades grunts and praise mixing with Bruce’s little cry’s and moans was heaven to their ears. The constant sound of the slick being fucked into Bruce, and the slap of skin on skin had both of their toes curling.
“S-Slade...your cock...”
Slades cock gave a throb inside of him at that, and Bruce bit down on his lip to keep the sound of his moan from slipping out.
“You like it, boy? You look perfect on it. Should keep you on it for all your days. Should fuck you till my cock is carved into you. Such a perfect hole. So perfect for my cock.”
Bruce let out a wail, reaching for his neglected and leaking cock, and tried to begin jerking off.
“None of that, Wayne,” Slade growled, slapping his hand away, “no, you’re going to cum on my cock alone you hear me. You’re going to cum for me the way you said that I would for you.”
When Slade looked into Bruce’s eyes there was un-shedded tears in them.
“You can do that for me, can’t you boy?” Slade growled again as he found purchase and began to thrust into Bruce at the same time that he was falling onto his cock.
Bruce’s cock was weeping precum. It was getting on his stomach from every time he bobbed up on Slades cock. It was falling onto Slades own stomach from the amount it was producing.
“That’s it boy. Take my cock. Earn your bliss.”
“SLADE!”
“Take it boy!”
With a wail, Bruce clamped down and throbbed on the cock inside him while his own bursted his seed between them. Landing on both of their stomachs and chests.
A few more brutal thrust later and Slade was pouring his load into Bruce’s tight passage. He came and came and came, the walls around him milking him for all of his seed with the constant quaking of it. He came with a growl of Bruce’s name on his lips and a grip on his hips that he knew would bruise.
Bruce collapsed on to him, sweaty and exhausted. Slade wrapped an arm around him and gently kissed the top of his head.
“You did so well Bruce. So perfect, so much better than what I’ve imagined.” Slade praised. Bruce hummed, and nuzzled his face deeper into Slades neck.
Time went by. Neither of them knowing exactly how much after coming down from arguably the best orgasm yet.
Eventually Bruce shifted on top of him, sitting up to stretch his torso, Slades now soft cock still nestled firmly inside him.
“Cmon let’s get you to your room and clean you up.”
When Bruce raised himself from Slades cock, the sound and amount of cum that began to trickle down his thighs was so luid, he blushed. Thankful for only having the moon as the source of light he made to grab for his clothes. Still bending over, looking for which underwear were his, he suddenly felt a finger trace the cum that was leaking down his thigh, back into his puffy and used hole. He grunted at the feeling.
“You’re gonna hold this in for the rest of the night. We’re gonna have to get you a plug to keep you full every time I cum in you.”
Bruce’s silently choked on air.
“If I had known you were so perverted, I wouldn’t have started this.” Bruce said. Slade chuckled behind him.
“Oh please, Wayne. You couldn’t have sat on my cock any faster than you did. You’re just as perverted if not more so than me. Isn’t that right, Brucie?” He said while putting his clothes back on.
Bruce threw his shoe at him.
Slade saw the twinkle in his eyes though.
Damn was he glad he passed on that contract