Work Text:
"Hey, where's the hottie with the abs?"
The mercenary takes off his mask, revealing the sneer underneath. He watches as realisation dawns on the raven-haired youth before him. The sight of silver hair and eyepatch only serves to hammer it home, the fact that the boy has been thoroughly catfished.
"Didn't your dad ever tell you to beware of strangers on the internet?"
It's a tall order to get rid of Wayne's adopted son. It seems that wherever the boy goes, he is followed by a parade of guards and heavy surveillance. But Slade Wilson takes every job seriously. He bided his time, studying the ins and outs of his target's lifestyle and habits. From there it was a simple matter of setting up a fake dating profile and a couple of strategically curated fake photos. And Dick Grayson fell hook, line and sinker. He showed up to the meeting place dressed in an artful outfit, one that he clearly spent time assembling, with a collar full of sweet cologne and a face full of naiveté.
Dick looks young, his real age even younger than the one listed on his Tinder profile. Slade gives his burner phone another glance just to check the face against the photos and intel he was assigned, then chucks the phone into a nearby bin. Its screen shatters easily, as easily as the heart of the crestfallen young man before him.
"What will your family think?" Slade muses. "When they find your body in a cheap motel, your phone full of raunchy text messages to some stranger off the internet..."
He chuckles as the young man's ashen face blanches further. It's always amusing to torment his victims some more before he makes the kill. And oh, there are so many ways to finish the kid off.
"You're about to pay for your debauched ways. Any last words?"
"Go fuck yourself."
Without another word Dick is on him, going straight for his face. Slade blocks the right hook, his gun going off between them. He never sees the uppercut coming. It sends him reeling, the force of it more reminiscent of a professional fighter than a well-to-do young man.
What do you know, even a pampered flower such as he comes with thorns.
Heedless of the gun Dick lunges forward again, throwing his full weight into his attack. It sends them both tumbling onto the dusty floorboards, where they continue to wrestle for control. Slade's gun is knocked out of his hands, but he holds off on the rest of his arsenal, leaving his knives sheathed where they are. Against a weaponless young man more driven by rage than reason, it's simply child's play to parry his blows.
Still, he's never seen someone so bold as to attack him, a trained assassin.
"Are you crazy, kid? You're wasting your time if you think you can stop me. Stand down."
"You should listen to yourself," Dick huffs. He throws Slade a look, like he's the one being ridiculous. "How'd you feel if you were in my place? Spending the whole day thinking that you're gonna get some dick, only to find out that the guy who's supposed to bend you over is a lying, despicable old man, who probably can't even get it up anymore—"
"Oh fuck you." In the course of 'getting to know each other', they had inevitably exchanged nudes. Dick had fired off photo after photo, saying it was only fair to see his cock in return. "Whose dick did you think it was in those pictures I sent you?"
Dick pauses. Apprehension falls away from his face, his look of disgust replaced by one of contemplation. He gazes at the mercenary consideringly.
"No, no, that's not right. You used someone else's photos in your profile. You probably stole the dick pics as well."
"Just because I set all this up to lure you out doesn't mean I'm willing to trawl through pictures of strange men's dicks. Besides, I've got my own right here, which you seemed plenty interested in getting your mouth on," he finishes with a leer.
Dick looks at him shrewdly. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"Dream on, kid." He attacks again, delivering a powerful kick right to the boy's stomach. Dick stumbles back towards the windows, crashing against the floor lamp there. The dim lighting flickers across his face, illuminating the pain laced across his features. He's crouched over, still recovering from Slade's incapacitating blow. Slade rises to his feet, unsheathing the sword at his back as he advances on the teenager. Dick scrambles for the nearest thing - the broken lamp pipe - and wields it in self-defense.
Slade inclines his head mockingly. "You're resourceful, I'll give you that. Gonna stop me with a broken lamp are you?"
Dick tightens his grip on the lamp pipe. "You know who else is resourceful?"
"Let me guess. Thomas Edison?"
The mercenary is already rushing at Dick as he speaks, sword raised high for the killing blow. Dick dodges the sharp edge of the blade as he tries to find an opening. The lamp pipe he's holding is a jagged, broken thing; all that's left of the far end is an exposed electrical cord. He jabs the mercenary with it, right at the sliver of skin above the collar of his armoured suit. It short-circuits upon contact. With a bright spark and the smell of burnt flesh, the bloodthirsty assassin is finally knocked out cold.
"Nope," Dick pants, answering his own question earlier, "It's Tesla."
Slade has no idea how long he was out for. As he swims back to consciousness, his first thought is that he is absolutely tearing Dick into pieces once he's regained all his faculties. His second thought is that he must have been moved in his brief nap. He feels broken springs digging into his spine and damp bedsheets clinging onto his back like a disgusting second skin. More irritating still is the weight of a smaller, masculine body, pinning him down by his cock.
Despite his displeasure, his cock stands to attention under the young man's ministrations.
"Get off my dick, you little creep."
Clearly, Dick has been pleasuring himself for a while. He is completely naked, his body drenched in sweat. His breath stutters as he rocks his hips. Lost in his pleasure he pays Slade no mind, studying the older man's body with half-lidded blue eyes. Slade makes to throw a punch, only to find his hands bound to the headboard in a complicated, esoteric knot. Damn the kid, it's going to take Slade a while to figure that one out.
"So... that... that was really your dick?"
"Of course it's mine. Now get the hell off if you're done corroborating my dick."
"Don't be like that..." Dick makes no attempt to move off, instead biting his lip wistfully. "You were a lot less mean to me when we spoke online."
"Idiot. You didn't even know if the guy on the other side of the screen wanted to kill you or fuck you. Why would you believe the things I said?"
"Hey, stop judging my life choices. You're being such a prude right now."
Slade opens his mouth and then closes it, too stunned to form a rebuttal right then. Dick places a thumb right over Slade's mouth, effectively shushing him before he can respond. He caresses the man's chin, feeling prickly stubble against his palm. Slade chomps at that teasing thumb as viciously as he can, but Dick just laughs as he retracts his hand.
"You know, you really shouldn't have tried to catfish me."
"This wouldn't be a set-up if I gave you my real identity."
"But you look better in person than those fake photos, anyway. You could've had me regardless."
Dick slides down Slade's stiff cock another few inches, sighing in satisfaction when Slade bottoms out. Large amounts of lube dribble out of Dick's hole, soaking them both where Slade fits snugly into Dick's tight heat, separated only by the thin layer of a condom. Slade has to count his blessings - at least the teenager had the sense to use protection.
"I see Wayne taught you the basics," Slade observes. "Let me up and I'll teach you more."
He rolls his hips just to give Dick a little taste of what could be. Dick's breath hitches. He chases after that feeling again but to no avail. He can't fuck himself on the cock as well as Slade could fuck him with a single thrust. Yet he stops short of asking Slade to do it again, held back by some useless sense of pride. It's starting to test Slade's patience.
"Mmn, no... I can't— let you—"
While Dick squirms, Slade manages to slip through the last bit of the knot he's been working on. He slaps one large palm onto the boy's ass. Dick yelps, half in surprise and half in terror as he realises the man beneath him is no longer safely restrained. Slade smacks the ass again, once, twice, right over the rapidly reddening skin.
"Ah! Stop!"
"You've got the self-defense down pat, kid, but don't get too cocky. Knot like this? I can take it apart in ten seconds flat."
The mercenary snatches the teenager close by the neck. He stares at him in scrutiny but finds nothing unorthodox about him. The kid looks just like any other spoiled rich kid, a twiggy, hapless thing. Slade should've laid him out under his sword in no time. So how come he's still here, gloating and riding him instead?
Annoyed, Slade gives the meaty flesh beneath his palms another punishing slap. Dick scrunches up his nose, squirming as he tries to free himself of the mercenary's hold. Slade smiles wickedly at the sight.
"That's good, little bird. Keep dancing on me. I was starting to go soft with that sour face."
Slade tightens his grip around that slender neck and watches as the kid's expression twists in agony. His flushed face drains of colour, until it's pale and clammy with cold sweat.
"Ahhn, let go..."
He's a mess. Drool drips from his gasping mouth and tears run down his face, ruining his otherwise pretty face. The mercenary delivers a couple more vicious slaps against his ass, until Dick is trembling uncontrollably. Then he slackens in Slade's hands. Thin ropes of come splatter onto Slade's abdomen. Only then does Slade release him. He watches as Dick collapses against his chest, coughing and trying to catch his breath.
Slade doesn't make a habit of taking men to bed. He's never known a man's body to be so pliable and sensitive. He mulls over this new discovery. Mind made up, he flips the still teary-eyed Dick over onto the mattress. The bed frame squeaks beneath them.
"Hey! Let go of me, you goddamn—"
"Stop fighting me, kid. Isn't this what you wanted? Logging onto Tinder behind your control freak father's back, so that strange men can fuck you raw tonight?"
Slade fucks Dick right on that bed, just as Dick wanted.
The scratchy bedsheets are soaked with sweat, and the lumpy mattress dips beneath their combined weight with every thrust. Slade's starting to regret not having booked a better room for the night. Dick on the other hand seems wholly unbothered by the thin walls and wooden partitions that pass for décor in this room, letting out moan after moan in unfettered pleasure.
And though he'd just come with Slade's deadly hands wrapped around his neck, the mercenary is fucking him hard enough that Dick quickly loses all rational thought to his cresting pleasure once more. A second orgasm soon follows, leaving him spent in its wake. Slade takes a moment to study the boy again. The disoriented, blissed out expression juxtaposes beautifully against his baby-faced features, inspiring a certain kind of depraved satisfaction in the mercenary.
Slade doesn't plan on sleeping with the client's target, usually. Yet he's lying across from one now, languid and enjoying the aftershocks of a good fuck in each other's company. Dick's even shameless enough to curl up against him, pillowing his head on one outstretched arm.
"Listen," Slade begins, "you probably feel stifled, that the life you're living isn't your own. But your father was right to set some boundaries for you. All this meeting up with strangers and sleeping with them on a whim - this isn't the way, boy."
"And I suppose you've given this talk to your own daughter as well."
"How'd you know that I have a daughter?"
"It's pretty obvious," Dick quips, every bit the teenaged brat he is.
Slade feels his eye twitch. He sounds far too smug, and not too dissimilar from Rose either. It's the same voice she'd put on when she makes fun of him. Slade is reminded all over again just why he hates teenagers.
"My point is," Slade stresses, "you're gonna run out of luck sooner or later. You might think that you're still young and strong enough to take on all sorts of nefarious characters by yourself. But you are neither skilled nor tactical in combat. And as a professional, I'm telling you now to seriously consider getting some training. With the right skills you'll be able to run far away from the life Wayne has trapped you in. You're both better off spending time away from each other."
"Hey, you're just a stranger I met on the internet," Dick interjects, parroting Slade's words back at him. "What makes you think you can change my life after just one fuck? That's not how Tinder works."
"Then what are you still doing here? Get your ass home. Your dad can tuck you in, bedtime story and all."